Marlo placed his hands on his knees. He could barely speak through his panting. "Stop. Stop. I need to catch my breath."

     Calvin jogged back to his brother. "Oh, come on, Cabrera. How're you going to keep up with an active toddler if you can't even jog a mile?"

     "I should be at home enjoying my last days of freedom with an ice-cold beer and my latest Reader's Digest."

     "Hey, I'm about to be an uncle and a godfather. You don't see me complaining. Now, come on. Breath through your nose."

     After a week of depression, Calvin found a lot of comfort in making plans, getting some exercise, and spending time with loved ones.

     He was experiencing a renewed energy after what Marlo told him about Genevieve.

     He didn't want to think that perhaps the reason she loved his touch was because he looked like her former lover, or that she never liked his touch to begin with.

     Nope. She liked me.

     Discussing the past was still difficult. It was far more comforting and exciting to talk about the future.

     What mattered most to Calvin was that Marlo wanted him in his life, and he wanted Marlo in his, regardless of the miles that would soon come between them.

     Marlo straightened up and placed his locked fingers over his head. He wore a sweat bib. "Can we walk for a bit?"

     "Sure, old man."

     Calvin looked out into the ocean. Saturday morning jogs by the beach with Marlo were a one-time ritual the men agreed to before Calvin left San Kolbe.

     "You're one to talk about laziness," said Marlo "You're flying to Los Angeles when it's just a two-and-a-half hour drive away."

     Calvin groaned. "George wanted to fly. I would have been fine driving."

     Marlo wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "When do you leave, anyway?"

     "Desperate to get rid of me?" Calvin teased.

     Marlo laughed through heavy breaths. "Absolutely."

     He pushed him gently. "I leave on the sixteenth."

     Marlo stopped walking. "Friday, the sixteenth?"

     He turned around when he didn't see Marlo beside him. "Yeah, why?"

     "That's opening night."

     Calvin winced. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh, no. I forgot."

     "Can't you move it down an extra day?"

     "I can, but is my presence all that necessary? Roger and Cookie will be there."

     "Of course your presence is necessary. You're one of the directors."

     Calvin still wasn't used to the camaraderie he was building with Marlo, but he enjoyed the discomfort. It was a sign that he was making progress. "Okay, I'll talk to George and we'll move it to Saturday. At least that way, if the play flops, I can skip town."

     Marlo took a deep breath. "You know something? I think I'm ready to jog again."

     Calvin watched Marlo zoom ahead of him. "Oh, don't break your hip, old man."

     He burst into a sprint, catching up with little effort.

     The two jogged until Marlo demanded a water break.

     It was a very slow walk to the parking lot. Calvin feared that Marlo might have actually hurt himself.

     As they sipped from their water bottles against the rear end of the Mustang, Calvin noticed a young, blonde woman walking in front of them.

     Calvin's eyes locked with hers for a moment.

     She smiled, then looked away shyly.

     The endorphins his body released during the jog swam freely through his body, making him feel more confident than he knew he was.

     "Well?" said Marlo. "Aren't you going to talk to her?"

     Calvin turned his neck to look at him. "Please. A woman that beautiful can't be single."

     "I met Lisa when she got lost and asked me for directions on the street."

     "Yes, but you were in your usual suit and tie. I'm sweating like a pig."

     "Women love the smell of man sweat. Just walk up to her and keep her entertained for a few seconds. If it all goes wrong, you get to hop on a plane and never see her again."

     Calvin took another sip of water as he pondered the possibility.

     The blonde looked over her shoulder at him, as if to check if he was still there.

     He handed Marlo his water bottle. "Hold this. I'll be back."

     What are you doing? You don't know how to talk to women. Go back.

     He took slow steps towards the woman. "Excuse me."

     She stopped and turned. "Yes?"

     Calvin's mind went blank. Every good line he memorized from romantic movies was erased. The only thing he remembered was how underprepared he was.

     She seemed happy to see him as she waited. She pointed at Marlo. "You're not trying to set me up with your friend, are you?"

     He looked at Marlo. "My brother? No, he's married."

     She turned her whole body towards him. Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom. "That's a relief."

     Calvin blushed. He wanted to give her a compliment, but he didn't know what he could say that wouldn't land him in hot water, or make her think that she wasn't attractive. He stuck to facts, the one thing he was good at. "What's your name?"

     "Violet."

     Calvin offered her his sweaty hand. "Nice to meet you, Violet. I'm Calvin, like President Coolidge."

     Too many facts, Leblanc.

     Violet laughed at the awful joke as she shook his hand.

     He took it as an invitation to continue with his fact-fest. "And you're Violet, like... the character in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

     That. Was. Dreadful. Leave now.

     She giggled behind her hand. "I love that book."

     He couldn't believe his luck. Were all women like this? "You do?"

     "Yes. I'm having my class read it next semester."

     Calvin lifted one end of his open grin. "Oh, you teach?"

     She lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes. Fifth grade. What about you?"

     Any ideas about modesty and humility went out the window. He wasn't thinking about being genuine and selling himself like he was interviewing for a job. He just needed to keep her impressed.

     He looked directly into her green eyes. "I'm a writer."

     She smiled with her teeth, appearing as though she was keeping herself from swooning.

     It was the exact reaction Calvin wanted.

     Violet held on to her elbow. "That explains why you made a book reference."

     Calvin could have stopped there, but impressing her left him with such a high, he wanted to do it again. "I write for the stage."

     She gasped. "Really?"

     He placed his hands on his hips in a heroic stance. "Yes. You like plays? What was the last play you saw?"

     Not even after his college graduation did Calvin feel so accomplished.