Running Deep

by Bette Hawkins

  “I thought he was my dream man. Super good-looking, seemed really mature compared to Scott. A little older, had a good job in finance…I spent three weeks with him while he was visiting friends over here.”

  “Marie. I just said I remember him. What’s the point of this story?”

  “I thought we were crazy about one another. I was thinking long-term, already had us married in my mind. I was ready to forget all about Scott.”

  There was no point in pressing her about getting to the point. Marie pushed her plate away and leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other. Hannah resisted the urge to get up and clean up the table. Marie loved to talk, and after all, she had just brought her dinner.

  She gestured for her to go on.

  “He went back to Perth, but of course, we’d promised to stay in touch. We talked on the phone all the time, sent letters back and forth. I saved my money so I could go and see him.”

  The ending of the story was clearing for Hannah, the fog in her memory floating away. It wasn’t so long ago. She’d been there to comfort Marie when she’d arrived home, deflated.

  “Then when I went to see him, there was nothing there. I met holiday Michael, but when he was in his own city and his own home, he was inconsiderate. Acted like I was in his way unless we were having sex at the time. I left Perth wondering why he’d bothered to keep in touch. And when I got back, I never spoke to him again.”

  “And then Scott came to see you, and he’d made all those changes. You and Scott got back together and lived happily ever after. So?”

  “I hope things work out with you and Angie, I do. But I just want you to remember that you don’t really know this girl.”

  “I’m aware,” Hannah said. She rose and scrunched up the waxed paper that the burgers had been wrapped in and carried their plates to the sink.

  “I’m just trying to be a good friend, Hannah. I don’t want you to get hurt. She screwed everything up for you once already.”

  She twisted around. “We’re not sixteen anymore! I hardly think she’s going to disappear on me again now. And it’s not so long ago that you were acting like she’d probably changed by now. Remember that?”

  “I do, but I meant you should give her a chance as friends and colleagues. It’s not just about that,” Marie said gently. “You’re really gone on her, I can tell. I’m happy that you’ve found someone you like this much because I’ve never seen you like this before. That also means I’m a little scared for you. It would be so easy to confuse what you felt back then, that first love high, with what’s going on now. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She looked back at Marie for a beat, crossing her arms. If she were honest with herself, she could admit that for those precious few days she and Angie lived in a bubble. They had shrouded themselves in fantasy, pretending that it wasn’t just for a while. They’d talked about it, acted like they were being realistic. But at the same time, they might have no future.

  If she were going to be able to truly focus on the Games, Hannah would need to stop daydreaming about Angie and about the life they could make together. This might lead to nothing, just as Marie was trying to tell her.

  She folded Marie into a hug. “Okay, I’ve heard you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll keep myself in check.”

  For the next week, Hannah held firm to that promise. She drove thoughts of Angie from her mind and recommitted herself to training. The water glided past her muscles. At the gym, she took pleasure in dripping sweat, the evidence of how hard she was working.

  On Sunday afternoon she drove to her folks’ place, thinking that seeing her mom would be an excellent distraction. Hannah let herself in, finding Viv in the courtyard sprawled on a lawn chair with a copy of The Age and a glass of wine.

  “Hello sweetheart,” Viv said, folding the broadsheet in half and putting it aside. The aviator sunglasses she wore were Paul’s, and despite the lateness she was still in her polka-dot nightgown. It was nice to see her relaxing since she’d always been the kind of person who did ten things at once.

  She kissed Viv hello then reclined in the chair next to her. A neighbor’s tree hung over the fence, the branches swaying against the clear blue sky.

  “You look like you’re having a nice afternoon out here. Where’s Paul?”

  “Visiting your grandmother. He went over there for lunch. I had the most refreshing sleep in this morning, haven’t slept that late in years. So. You’re alone this time?”

  “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I can’t think why…oh, that’s right! You brought a friend with you last time you were here if I recall.”

  Hannah grabbed Viv’s wineglass and took a sip. “Ugh, you’re drinking the cheap stuff? And you knew Angie was flying back the next day.”

  “I was just looking for a way to bring up that I think Angie is a lovely girl. And don’t be a snob. I happen to like this wine.”

  “Angie’s very nice. I agree.”

  Viv squinted at her. “I’m your mother, Hannah.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “You know very well what I’m getting at. I see things. The way she looked at you!” Viv said, fanning herself with a hand. “I thought I was going to have to call the fire department.”

  “Stop teasing.”

  “I’m just saying, she was looking at you like Meg Ryan looked at Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle. Like you hung the moon.”

  “Oh, please. That’s the worst comparison I’ve ever heard, and you know I hate those movies. Can we talk about something else? Tell me about work.”

  “Now I know you’re hiding something. You never want to hear about that!”

  After they’d talked for a while, she settled back into the chair while her mother picked up the newspaper again.

  “Oh hey, look, speak of the devil! Here’s your friend,” Viv said, angling the sports section toward her.

  Angie was standing poolside with a swimmer, one of the Brisbane women who was a frontrunner in the butterfly stroke. It was yet another story about the American defecting to Australia. Angie’s hand was on the swimmer’s shoulder, and they leaned close together.

  On the drive home, Hannah twisted the dial to turn the music up, trying to shift her focus away from Angie. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Angie up there in Brisbane, spending time with other women. Why had she decided to trust her again so quickly? She’d never been the jealous type but maybe Marie had a point. They didn’t know one another that well.

  Ricky Martin’s cheesy pop could only take her so far, and when she couldn’t find anything else but talkback radio, she clicked the radio off with a sigh.

  Everyone had an opinion about her relationship with Angie. As time went on and people like Viv and Marie got it out of their system, all this discussion would end. At least she hoped so. It might mean that her own thoughts would turn to Angie less often.

  In her apartment she rolled up the blind at the backdoor so she would have enough light then swept, picking up the loads of dust that collected no matter how often she cleaned.

  She was working through a pile of laundry when she decided she should check her email. She hadn’t looked at it since Angie was there, and she was trying to get into the habit of replying to anything business related. She listened to the screech of the modem dialing, mindlessly clicking the mouse button until the Internet connected.

  Angie Thompson. The time stamp told her that the email had been flung through cyberspace in the early hours of Saturday morning.

  The message was simple. I’ve been thinking about you.

  How could one line convey so much and come across as that suggestive?

  They couldn’t do this. This email was most likely thanks to a moment of weakness for Angie. Over the past two weeks, Hannah had been tempted to break the rules more than once herself.

  The kindest thing to do was to let it go. It was the best thing for both of them. She pushed her chair b
ack from the desk and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  2000 - Brisbane

  Stuart Lanci’s home matched his personality, calling attention to itself in every way. Many of its surfaces were reflective—marble benches and mirrored tiles. The black and gray fabric of the drapes and furniture coverings were accented by pops of color, from red ornaments and abstract canvases.

  In the dining room, large chairs with soft black seats were drawn up to the oak table. Alongside serving platters, there were red roses in gray ceramic vases. Stuart’s wife Kasey had served the team a low-fat feast of chicken breasts, greens, and a grain salad.

  Angie was seated diagonally across from Hannah, at Stuart’s right hand. When she lifted her water glass, it trembled slightly in her grip.

  Stuart tapped the side of his glass with a spoon, making a chiming sound that silenced the guests.

  Pushing back his chair, Stuart stood with his chest puffed out. His blue-eyed gaze alighted on each team member, holding eye contact for a moment before moving on to the next.

  He looked the part of the aging playboy with silver hair shaped by an expensive cut and healthy glowing skin. He wore neatly pressed slacks with a royal blue linen shirt.

  The Lancis were one of the wealthiest families in Melbourne. There were whispers that he didn’t have what it took to achieve success in his own right. With piles of inherited money, he didn’t have to work, and it shocked everyone when he got involved in swimming.

  At first the sporting community took it for a foolish hobby and Hannah hadn’t taken him seriously. But in the past ten years, his medal count had outstripped more experienced coaches, and now he was respected. He’d never mentioned that Hannah had rejected him as a coach when she was younger, but it hung between them sometimes.

  “Thank you all for being here today. This is the beginning of a momentous journey. The next few weeks we’re going to work you very hard, but I know that all of you are more than up to the challenge. With the help of my assistant coaches, Angie and Jack here, we’re going to get this team tight,” he said, holding up a clenched fist.

  There were murmurs of agreement, and he rounded the table with his eyes again, pinning his audience in place.

  “You’re all extraordinary swimmers or you wouldn’t be here. But winning takes more than that. For us to attain results we can all be proud of, it’s going to take heart and guts. These are the Sydney Games, my friends. These are our Games. The whole country is going to watch us forge history. You can’t just be great swimmers as individuals; you’re a team. And then, you are all vital parts of a larger team, standing shoulder to shoulder with the athletes of every stripe representing this great nation.”

  Hannah wondered whether this speech was rehearsed and sought out Angie’s eye. He was orating like a holy rolling preacher at a revival meeting. Though her expression betrayed nothing, Hannah was sure she was beating back laughter too.

  Hannah winked. She almost felt bad when Angie covered a chuckle with a cough. When his attention wandered toward her, Angie took a gulp of water.

  “Excuse me,” Angie said.

  “That’s all right. This night, us breaking bread together, is a symbol of our commitment to one another. Nothing’s more important than protecting one another, supporting your teammates as though they’re your family. And it goes without saying that I don’t want to hear about any funny business. Nothing that will bring disrepute to the team. But anyway, enough of all that. For the rest of the night, get to know your peers. Enjoy yourselves. Mingle. Here’s to Australia!”

  He held up his tumbler of whiskey, and each guest raised their glass of iced mineral water.

  The team members drifted away from the table, filling the adjoining living room with the buzz of conversation. Rachel Willis stood alone in the corner, facing bookshelves. Hannah tapped her on the shoulder, and Rachel turned, smiling hopefully.

  “How are you doing, Rachel?”

  “This is all pretty overwhelming!”

  “I know. It’s still scary for me, and I’ve done this before.”

  Rachel twirled hair around a finger. “Really? You seem so relaxed.”

  From behind Rachel, Hannah could see Angie in her black shift dress talking to Stuart. Her hair was knotted into a messy bun, exposing the soft skin of her neck. When Angie looked at her and stopped talking for a moment, Hannah quickly pulled her focus back to Rachel, touching her shoulder.

  “It’s a lot. It’s normal to feel nervous. I just want to let you know you can talk to me anytime if you have any questions or just want to vent. Okay?”

  “Thank you so much, Hannah, I really appreciate it.”

  “No worries.” Angie was alone now, eyes darting around as though she was looking for someone to talk to. “Excuse me, I’m going to say hi to someone on the coaching team.”

  “Hello,” Angie said, biting her lip and scanning Hannah’s form up and down. “You look good.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  “How are you feeling? Are you ready to work hard in training?”

  She couldn’t resist getting closer to whisper, taking in the scent of Angie’s perfume. She loved the thought of Angie getting ready for tonight, knowing they would see one another. Angie might have thought of her when she was spraying it on, knowing how much Hannah liked it.

  “What are you going to do to me if I’m not?”

  Angie flushed. “Well. I’m glad you don’t seem to be upset with me.”

  “Why would I…”

  “Hey, Jack!” Angie said, blinking rapidly.

  Hannah angled her body to let Jack into the conversation. The assistant coach was the same height as Angie, and he had the stocky, muscular build of a wrestler. Hannah liked him immediately. His brown eyes were warm and gentle.

  “Hi, there! I’m a big fan,” Jack said, sticking out an arm to shake Hannah’s hand.

  “That’s nice of you to say. It’s great to meet you.”

  As she chatted with Jack, Stuart approached to talk to Angie. With her peripheral vision, she watched as Angie was whisked away. This night was crucial for team building, but she hadn’t prepared herself for how difficult it was to see Angie amongst this sea of people.

  She wanted more than anything for them to be alone. Still, when getting to know her teammates, she had to bring the same enthusiasm that she would to a training session. As one of the senior members of the team, it was her responsibility to set a good example. Working the room, she divided her time as evenly as she could.

  Rachel was gushing about the football-playing boy she’d recently started dating, when Hannah clocked Angie standing in the doorframe by herself, watching her with those glittering green eyes. When their gazes snagged, Angie tilted her head toward the side, signaling for Hannah to come to her.

  “It’s so great to date a fellow athlete, you know? He wants to do it professionally, so he gets how important all this stuff is,” Rachel said.

  “That’s wonderful, Rachel. Can you excuse me for a second?”

  Hannah slipped past the guests and down the hall to where Angie waited in a doorway. She stepped back inside as Hannah got closer, and soon they were in Stuart’s study. Hannah softly pushed the door shut behind them.

  Floor-to-ceiling shelves housed books, magazines, glass paperweights, and silver-framed photos. The study was otherwise sparsely furnished. A large black desk stood in the middle of the room, a matching black chair arranged in front of it.

  “I would never have imagined Stuart owning so many books,” Hannah said, running her finger along a row of spines. “Do you think he hired someone to pick them all out for him?”

  Angie leaned against the desk with her arms crossed over her waist. At Hannah’s joke, she let out a small laugh, looking down at the carpet.

  Hannah sobered, treading closer to her. “I gather you got me in here to talk. What did you mean before? You said something about me being upset with you?”

  “Sorry. I didn�
��t mean to be dramatic or anything. I wanted to apologize for breaking the rules with that email. You were training and I have no excuse.”

  “Of course, I’m not upset with you! I thought it was best that I didn’t reply. I knew what it might lead to.”

  “I know.”

  Why hadn’t she sent a quick note in return, so Angie would know everything was okay? Was there an ugly hidden part of her that wished to pay Angie back?

  Drawing still nearer to Angie, she searched herself and knew that it wasn’t the case. When she was close, she heard the pace of Angie’s breath quicken. A wisp of hair had loosened from Angie’s bun. She pushed it behind her ear and then trailed a finger along the side of her face, ending on the gentle slope of her chin.

  “What are you doing?” Angie said, finally meeting her gaze.

  Hannah cupped her face, her thumb tracing Angie’s full lips. “You know. Do you want me to stop?”

  “Hey, that’s my line!”

  Hannah glanced over her shoulder to make sure the door was closed.

  Hurriedly, she pressed her lips to Angie’s, tasting their sweetness. Angie sighed against her mouth, shifting her hands to Hannah’s waist.

  At first, Hannah was careful to hold her body still and to stay back. The restraint lasted only for an instant. Overcome by having Angie like this again, Hannah kissed her fiercely and was kissed fiercely in return.

  When Angie’s tongue slid into her mouth, Hannah pushed more firmly against her. She lifted Angie onto the desk, so that soon she was curling her legs around Hannah’s waist.

  Angie pushed her hand into Hannah’s hair at the back of her head, scratching lightly at her scalp. They broke off breathlessly, smiling at one another.

  “I’m not sure this is what Stuart meant when he said we should mingle,” Hannah said.

  “Maybe not. It might even qualify as funny business. But personally, I’m in favor,” Angie said.

  She laid a kiss on one of Angie’s cheeks, then the other, finally touching her mouth to Angie’s temple. “I missed you.”