Second Chances by Kathy Ivan

Chapter One
     
    R yan’s legs pumped, muscles straining as he increased his pace on the treadmill, adjusting the incline to level six.  He’d run full out for the last twenty minutes and still it wasn’t enough.  Sweat beaded his face and soaked his T-shirt.  He grabbed the towel draped around his neck, blotted his face and neck before tossing it over the handle of the treadmill.
    Jake, his best friend, pounded out his own rhythm on the machine next to his.  They worked out at least five days a week, honing their bodies, determined to push their endurance to its limits. 
    Jake worked with him at the fire station and kept in terrific shape, better than him, but Ryan knew Jake’s own personal demons constantly had him taking risks ordinary men would think twice about.
    "Still having the dream?" Jake’s voice broke into his thoughts.
    "Every damn night.  It gets more and more vivid each time."
    "Have you talked to Rose about it?"
    Ryan shook his head, continuing his paced rhythm, feet pounding on the moving tread.  "I can’t.  I know she’d understand, but—it’s crazy.  Not possible."
    "Well, have you talked to anybody about the dream?  Besides me."
    "And say what?  My dead brother visits me every night?  That he asks for something which can’t ever happen?"
    "Well, when you put it like that. . ."
    Ryan grabbed his water bottle, took a long swig and swallowed the lukewarm liquid.  He thought about the dream which haunted him damn near every night.  It had gotten to the point he almost didn’t want to go to sleep.  Almost .
    He’d adored his brother, Terry.  Two years younger and the baby of the family, Terry had been the golden boy.  Everything he touched seemed too good to be true, miraculously perfect.  He’d had the perfect career, graduated from medical school at the top of his class and a gorgeous woman who loved him beyond reason.  Ryan hadn’t been jealous of his baby brother; he’d been proud. 
    Then in one senseless moment, everything changed.  Gone. 
    Nearly a year ago, Terry and his new bride, Sharon, had gone on their honeymoon at an exclusive lodge high in the Colorado Mountains.  Gorgeous and serene, the four-star hotel boasted some of the best winter skiing and snowboarding in the area.  They both loved sports, so it had been the perfect fit.  Then in the blink of an eye, it was all gone . 
    A drunk driver, an icy, snow-slick roadway and his brother—his best friend—was dead. 
    In the last couple of months he’d started dreaming about Terry.  Always the same dream.  The lodge.  The snow.  The honeymoon suite.  And Terry always asking him for the same impossible thing. 
    Grief welled up inside Ryan nearly strangling in its intensity.  It overwhelmed and churned in his gut before turning to anger.  Fuel for the internal fire burning inside, a purpose for each step, one foot in front of the next.  Punching buttons on the treadmill, he ramped it up, ran faster.  Jake stopped his own machine and walked up next to Ryan’s, slapping the pause button.  The belt whined as it slowed down to a halt. 
    "Tell Rose." 
     Ryan stood with his hands braced on the arms of the treadmill, lungs gasping for air as his heartbeat slowed.  He shook his head, grabbed the damp towel and stepped off the machine.   The rowing machine came next.   Handles gripped in white knuckled hands, he pulled toward his chest.  Repeated the movement over and over again.  Jake stood alongside him, arms crossed and legs spread slightly apart. 
    "Buddy, I’m not a shrink but even I know your grief is eating you alive.  You have to talk to somebody.  Rose loves you.  She’ll understand."
    "Drop it."
    Jake sighed, staring at him long enough to make Ryan wince, but he couldn’t meet his best friend’s gaze.  He knew Jake wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do.  After a couple of months and a few beers, he’d broken down and told his best friend about The Dream .