Page 34 of Fly's Path

Possibly.

Viola walks up to a double door and stops. Her hand just sits there on the handle, unmoving.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if he tells me to leave?” The fear in her voice is palpable.

The truth is the only answer that you can give. “Then you leave. But you do it knowing that you tried your best to keep the lines of communication open. And when he’s ready, he’ll reach out.” I set my hand on hers. “We should go say hello.”

She nods and gently pushes it open.

This isn’t like any weight room that I’ve ever seen. It’s more of a fully-stocked gym with all the most up-to-date gadgets to play on. Gabe must love this place.

Except there aren’t any teenagers working out.

The room holds only two people. They’re both men in their thirties.

One has his back to us. The other is in a military PT uniform. Army PTs to be exact.

Why would they let anyone from the military into this place? Don’t they have their own top-of-the-line facilities to help rehab wounded warriors?

Viola makes a beeline to the other guy. She must be asking him where Gabe went.

I could stand here looking awkward…or I could go try to say hi to the military guy.

Choices that aren’t choices.

Focused. That’s the only way to describe this guy, as he’s bench-pressing an insane amount of weight without a spotter. The bar should be bending right about now. “You do know it’s polite to leave some weights for other people.” There’s just a tinge of sass in my voice so he knows I’m not being serious.

“If they wanted some, they should have gotten up before me.” He doesn’t look up, which is just fine with me.

Don’t drop the heavy thing, because I wouldn’t be able to save you. “That’s exactly what my pen pal would say.”

“Pen pal?” He sets the bar on the rack and hoists his body up.

Do not drool over all those lovely muscles. You’re here to encourage and support, not ogle. “Yes, I’m pen pals with a major in the army.”

“You two dating?”

EWWW. “No. I’ve been writing to him since I turned seven. He’s about to retire and happily married with a handful of kids.”

“You’re really pen pals with some random guy in the Army?” He raises an eyebrow, which looks like it hurts, with the angry-looking wound that’s healing on the other side of his face.

“Yup. It’s a town tradition where I live for every woman to get a pen pal to write. Usually they’re not assigned until we turn eighteen, but I liked writing people, so I started early.” It’s one of the corny traditions in Beach Haven that I actually like.

“Wait. That’s actually real. I thought it was just an urban legend. A myth running through the barracks.”

Not even close. “Nope. One of the town’s founder’s sons went into the military, and she’d write him every week. Then he mentioned one of his friends never got any letters from home, so she started writing his friend too. Then it kind of snowballed, and she got other members of the Ladies League involved. Now the whole town does it.”

“Do you know the secret to getting a pen pal?”

I lean forward and whisper, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

He chuckles for the first time instead of glaring at me.

“But if you know of someone, slide me their info, and I’ll make sure they’re hooked up.” The Ladies League president doesn’t hate me.

“Did one of your group really send a freezer full of ice cream to her pen pal?”