64. Parch
Both were panting as they neared their agreed destination, feet pounding against the sidewalk beside one another, falling back into the familiar rhythm they'd established long before she'd discovered she was pregnant and had been forced by morning sickness, exhaustion and general concern for their daughter to stop running.
He'd cut down his own schedule to two runs a week at a maximum, had barely had time to visit the gym after the birth of their daughter. Christine Angela, however, was now five months old, and had been collected that morning by Grandpa Max, as he'd done so the past two Saturdays.
Brennan had been working herself up to resume jogging, visiting the gym whenever she could, and on that third Saturday she was easily keeping up with him, pushing him into running faster like she'd done before the shift in their relationship.
Turning to him she grinned widely, raising her eyebrows in challenge before she took off sprinting, the coffee cart now in sight. He laughed, catching up to her, both of them reaching the luckily empty counter together. Two bottles of water were already waiting for them, both parched, he drank all of his then gladly accepted what was left in hers as she ordered them both a coffee.
They sat at one of the tables, recovering their breaths, drinking their coffees, smiling widely.