The Things We Knew Read Online Free

pool, arms pulsing as he pushed through the pain.
    And it’s Cooper in first position, in record-breaking time . . .
    He slapped the warm brick with one hand, slid up his goggles, and reached for the stopwatch on the stone deck.
    Take that, Phelps.
    A grin stretched his stinging skin as water trickled down his face.
    Nick rested his arms on the coping and his breathing slowed. After a moment, he concluded he wasn’t going to have a heart attack. Since high school, all he’d ever wanted to do was swim. His coaches said he held great potential, and for a while Nick believed them. But now, at twenty-six, that aspiration had long since been stuffed into the box of things he’d stopped dreaming about.
    He hoisted himself up, shook water out of his ears, hopping on one foot until he felt the warm release of liquid, and shuddered. In another month or so the ocean would be warm enough, but for now he’d settle for their heated pool.
    Nick grabbed a thick green-striped towel he’d tossed across one of the lounge chairs, dried off, and took in the view of the Atlantic. Yesterday’s storm gave way to better weather and the ocean glistened in momentary calm. Saturday provided a welcome break. He’d survived a week at his new job, survived being home for two weeks.
    Maybe he could do this.
    Today might actually be a good day.
    “How’d you do?” His father’s voice floated toward him.
    Or not.
    Anthony Cooper picked his way over wet spots and pulled out a chair from around the patio table.
    Nick gave his head a vigorous rub and wrapped the towel around his waist. He found a lounger a safe enough distance away and sank onto it. “Not great, but better than yesterday.” The smile he attempted lasted as long as one of Michael Phelps’s records in the 2012 Olympics.
    His father brushed off the cushion of his chair before he sat. With the white sweater draped over his black polo, a pair of Ray-Bans nestled in the V of his shirt, and the silver Rolex around his wrist, he oozed East Coast aristocracy.
    Nick hated that. Hated the awkward silence that always ran between them. Hated the way his dad looked at him without speaking. Scrutinizing.
    Why bother timing yourself, Nick? You never were that good. Do you really think you’re able to resurrect a lost cause?
    Nick’s pulse took off like he’d just heard the starting gun, and he leaned a little farther back in his chair. Maybe he was being unreasonable. Maybe Dad was actually making an effort.
    And maybe they’d find a cure for cancer before the week was out.
    Nick pulled a breath of sea air into his lungs. “You headed to the golf course?” Casual conversation he could do.
    “Yes. I’ll be gone most of the day, having dinner at Cliffside tonight.”
    “All right.” Nick jiggled his left ear and dislodged more water. “I talked to Mom yesterday. The operation went well.”
    Dad’s blue chips of ice seemed to melt a bit. “Oh, right, the knee surgery? You should go out to Arizona to visit when I get back. Take Mindy. I’m sure your mother would love to see her.”
    Nick wouldn’t commit to that suggestion. And Mindy, his sometimes-when-it-suited-her girlfriend, would balk at the idea. “I’ll think about it. How long will you be in Boston?”
    “I’m not sure.” His father glanced at his watch, as usual, after chatting for more than a minute. “I leave midweek. Are you settled in enough for me to go? Can you handle things on your own?”
    A drop of water rolled down Nick’s back and made him shiver. “I think I’ll manage.”
    His father’s thick brows slid together, relaying his lack of faith. “If all goes well, I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m leaving the bank in your hands. You’re in charge now, Nicholas.”
    “I know.” Nick pressed his toes against the wet stone. He’d worked enough summers at the bank with Dad. And they’d gone over the new procedures a million times.
    “You have my schedule,” Dad continued. “Wanda will make sure