It was cold outside, the type of bitter cold so common in upstate New York, so Helen sat with Caroline in the comfortable warmth of a café attached to the children’s  play gym in the mall. Her child had found a toy piano, and behind him, a gaggle of kids scaled the play gym with its tunnels and tubes and jungle designs. Helen pressed her cup to her lower lip, breathed in the last warmth of her latte, and took a sip as Caroline’s voice unspooled.

“I still find your hobby a bit weird. You look fit and athletic, and I’d expect to see you riding a bike or jogging or maybe working out at the gym. But competitive pistol shooting? It seems so violent and you are the calmest person I know!”

Helen finished her sip of coffee, thinking about how to explain. “I enjoy competition. Just working out is boring and running doesn’t work for me because, honestly, it’s too cold outside in the winter. The shooting range is only five miles away, and, most importantly, indoors! It has a small gym attached, so I can stay fit and let my competitive juices flow year-round. With winter lasting six months out of the year, it lets me fit in my job, child pickup, and still have some competitive fun.”

Helen continued, “And I do want to thank you for taking Bobby for a couple of hours. The competition is next week, and I really needed to get some time at the range today.” Helen gave her hard-shell case, sitting at her side, a protective little pat.

Caroline gave a little snort. “Well, you are from the deep south, right? So I can understand this cold aversion of yours as well as this proclivity for guns.”

Helen gave her a bit of a glare, “As if you couldn’t tell where I am from with my accent! And even though I call Alabama home, I’ll have you know that I have adapted well to all things Yankee- except, maybe, the cold,” she finished sheepishly.

“Alabama?” Caroline asked.

“South. Fairhope. It’s on Mobile Bay. Why?” Helen asked.

Caroline looked down sheepishly, “Well ... it’s kind of embarrassing but I was inspired by something that happened in Alabama years ago. You’re from there so you probably remember. There was this girl who played football - a kicker - and in her senior year, during the homecoming game, she kicked a couple of field goals and then the extra point to win the game in overtime. And then, on top of that, she was voted homecoming queen! There was this great photo of her wearing her football uniform and a homecoming tiara. I was really inspired by the story, thinking about the type of grit it would take to play football with a bunch of high school guys. And, to top it off, the courage to win the homecoming game with a clutch play. She must have stayed calm under pressure. And maybe she was thinking the whole time that she might be blamed if she missed that point because she was a girl. I thought to myself: That’s the type of person I want to be – someone you can rely on when everything is on the line.”