Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 84

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 84

The pool turned out to be very much open and in use. A lifeguard greeted him at the little
window of the pool office, right inside the gate. “Checking out the Masters’ swim today?”
Nick watched the lanes of swimmers stretching out ahead of him. He remembered vaguely that
one of their old swim coaches, a hippie with only three toes on his right foot, had belonged to
the Masters’ team. As a kid, Nick would see the team coming to practice after the juniors’ time
was up and think, Wow, they’re so old. They’d looked ancient to his child eyes, skin burnished
brick red from the long hours spent swimming under the Florida sun, hair thinning and white.
Now Nick looked at them in their Speedos and Swedes and thought, Well, being old isn’t so bad,
is it? His own gray hairs looked dashing in a certain light.
“Yeah,” he told the lifeguard. “I’m thinking of joining.”
He was given a couple of forms to fill out. For around sixty bucks, he could join the team,
practice up to three times a week, and compete in meets if he was so inclined.
“I’m actually one of the Masters’ coaches,” the lifeguard told him. “Kind of a figurehead thing,
but you know. You ever compete?”
“A long time ago,” Nick said, “but I want to get back into it.” Hearing it out loud was like hearing
something come to life. He had barely formed the idea to himself, and here he was telling a
stranger about it.
The lifeguard perked up. “What’s your event?”
Nick hesitated. Back when he was younger, he was always pigeonholed in the fly or
breaststroke. Big shoulders; his coaches thought he was naturally suited to those races. But

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personally, he always preferred—“The hundred back.” When Nick kicked off the wall upside
down for the backstroke, he would watch his air bubbles rising in a line along his body. Like
silver jellyfish swimming to the surface, mirroring him. He’d always loved that.
“We could use more backstrokers.” The lifeguard smiled. “The next practice is in two days. You
could come try it out, no commitment. If you’re really interested.”
“I’d have to get a suit,” Nick said. His baggy swim trunks wouldn’t cut it with this crowd. Wow,
was he really doing this? The smell of chlorine filled his nose. Every muscle in his body yearned
to get in the water and—go.
“So get one,” the lifeguard said, a tad aggressively.
Nick responded in kind. “Okay. I will.”
He left the county pool feeling like, for the first time in a long time, he’d given himself
something just for him. It gave him the courage to do what he might have otherwise put off for
weeks. He sat in his car, engine off, and pulled out his phone.We should talk about Arizona, he
texted Laurie. What’s a good time for
you?