Always There

by Tiara Inserto

  “Right? Any questions? Good. Make sure those uniforms are ready to be seen by the world, gentlemen. I want you to all look smart and sharp. Enjoy the next couple of days. Rest; spend time with your friends and family. Do what you need to do to clear your minds. When we leave for Brazil, we leave to work.”

  Liana followed her own advice. She gave Mrs. Wong the next two days off and took her family to see Kelly and Maile. They also paid their respects to Jay, introducing Jayne to her namesake. Connor had given her the key to their house by the beach. They spent the time chasing the waves and marveled at whatever it was Jayne found amusing. They rested; they loved.

  Even away, Liana kept to her daily ritual of time alone. She would slip out of the house early in the morning, a cup of tea in hand and walk to the edge of the water. Chris was a phone call away, but she had ceased seeing him regularly. Every day, she gave herself time to clear her mind. It was still a challenge not to let the voices of doubt, pressure, anger, and fear cloud her brain. Almost a full year since she fell into depression, she felt she was still coming out of it. She was getting there though. It felt like she was able to get to a place of clarity faster and for a little longer.

  “Peace of mind” was a cliché, but the phrase never meant more to her.

  The team’s departure for Brazil drew a lot of people to the airport. After meeting with the press, Liana joined the rest of the players and took time to talk to fans, friends, and family. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mitch was doing the same. He looked relaxed as he posed for pictures and chatted with the players’ families who had since become part of their lives over the last couple of years.

  “The shirt looks good on you,” Liana said when she reached her husband. He was wearing the latest football kit and remained her best marketing tool. The first time he was photographed in it, sales of the kit went up by fifty percent.

  Liana smoothed a small crease over his broad shoulders as Mitch put his arms around her waist. “Good luck, baby girl. We’ll be watching every match.”

  “And we have our schedules lined up. You call first.”

  “No worries; everything has been synched. We’re calling and Skyping.”

  Liana sighed. She studied the delicate threads of the black fern that were neatly stitched on his white shirt. Mitch must have sensed her hesitancy because he drew her closer. He leaned down so their foreheads would touch. “Whatever happens, you have exceeded all expectations. You’ve earned your place in Brazil, Liana Murphy.”

  Liana nodded wishing for the right words. Instead, she turned her head slightly so she could look straight into her husband’s eyes. “You’re part of this. You know that, don’t you? I couldn’t have made it without you.”

  “You’d have made it, Liana,” Mitch said. He traced her lips with his thumb. “But I’m glad I’ve been able to share this with you. Just remember: I’m there for you...”

  “Even when you’re not,” finished Liana. They smiled.

  Liana felt Mitch’s gaze follow her until she made her way to the final security checkpoint. Everyone else had gone through already. She turned one last time. He nodded. She waved and walked through the glass sliding doors to join the rest of her team.

  * * *

  For the first couple of weeks, Liana being in Brazil didn’t seem very different from her being on tour somewhere. They kept to their agreed schedule, talking on the phone or on Skype as planned. Occasionally, Mitch would receive a text message with pictures. He also followed the team’s Twitter account, keeping up with the daily news. The players were no longer just names off a roster. He knew them; he knew their families. It was a tight group.

  It wasn’t until some of the other families began to leave for Brazil that Mitch started feeling restless. It didn’t help that the new promo for the team also began showing on TV. The ad caught her at her “Liana Murphy best.” There were also now the billboards. His wife’s image was everywhere: looking strong, in control, beautiful, and surrounded by other men in tight shirts and shorts.

  When New Zealand drew their first two matches in the group rounds in Brazil, there was now a mathematical chance they could make it into the Round of 16 for the first time in history.

  Interest in New Zealand football was at an all-time high. Mitch fielded calls from the press. They wanted to know how Mitch “felt” about his wife’s success, whether she was asking him for advice, how far he thought the team would progress, and why he wasn’t in Brazil like “all the other partners.”

  While the world became enamored with New Zealand’s unpretentious and never-say-die style of play on the field, Mitch was more interested in how Liana carried herself during the matches and at the press conferences. Nothing he saw worried him; their Skype sessions were equally ordinary. Did he dare think they were finally, finally over the worst of it?

  “Ow!”

  Jayne grinned at her dad. Her hand was still clasping the finger she had chomped on.

  He picked her up, holding her over his head as she screamed in excitement. “You’re a little rascal, aren’t you?”

  The phone rang. Mitch was a little surprised at whose name was flashing on caller ID.

  “Cat?” he answered.

  “Mitch? I’m outside.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s Tuesday. Jayne has her first swim class.”

  Mitch headed to the front door. He looked outside and saw Cat sitting in her car, waving at him.

  “Well, hurry up and pack your swimmers,” she said, still on the phone despite their physical proximity to each other. “And afterward, we’re having a playdate.”

  Mitch stared at Cat. His eyes narrowed. “My swimmers? Why the hell would I need them?”

  “Check your calendar. I saw Liana write it down when we signed up the children.”

  Mitch walked back into the kitchen and stared at the family calendar on the wall. It was chock full of appointments, color coordinated for each of them. He checked today’s date. There was nothing there about... then he saw the two asterisks and a smiley face. He looked at the bottom of the page where Liana usually added notes to any entries.

  Surprise! Jayne’s bag is packed. Please don’t wear those black swimmers. They’re too short. And don’t embarrass your daughter. I love you. Xoxo Liana.

  Mitch leaned his head on the wall. He heard Cat’s voice through the phone, calling his name. “Hurry up! We can’t be late.”

  An hour later, he was in the pool bouncing his daughter up and down as the instructor sang a song he had never heard before. What was she singing?

  “Fishy, fishy, fishy, squirt, squirt, squirt!” yelled the over-enthused teacher in a sing-song voice.

  Mitch worked hard not to roll his eyes.

  “C’mon parents, I want to hear all YOUR voices!” The looks the teacher gave him was merciless.

  Mitch grimaced. “Fishy, fishy, fishy...”

  He was used to being stared at; he was used to people wondering if that was “really” him. He was used to having his performance on the pitch be publicly discussed and criticized. Despite all of that experience in the limelight, he still felt strangely vulnerable as the only man in a pool of women with their children. He stood out like a beached whale.

  Awkward felt like an understatement. It didn’t help that he could hear Cat snickering from the other side of the pool.

  Still, Jayne was having a ball. His daughter had no fear. She loved the water, and Mitch spent a good part of the thirty-minute session making sure she didn’t succeed in escaping his grasp. She was the only baby who didn’t cry when she was submerged, though she did go into a coughing fit when she opened her mouth to laugh underwater.

  When it was finally over, Mitch received some friendly smiles from the other mothers. As one of them passed, he overheard her whisper to the other mum, “Isn’t it cute? He holds her like a rugby ball.” Mitch looked up to see a smiling Cat looking down at him from the deck of the pool with Fred in her arms.

  “You didn’t do too
bad, Captain,” she said, laughing.

  He waded to the stairs. “Ex-captain—and not a word to Connor.”

  “I think you should sing that song to Connor. That could be the new Club chant. How does it go? Fishy...”

  “Shut up, Cat.”

  But his best friend’s wife only laughed louder.

  From the number of phones that were being held up while he was in class, he had a feeling his first swim lesson with his daughter was going to get some publicity. He was glad he’d left his black swimmers at home.

  As they drove back from the pool, Mitch listened to Cat’s umpteenth attempt to get him to work with her on her next cookbook.

  “Look, when it comes down to it, I can cook, but I’m not a chef,” he argued.

  “But that’s why it’d be perfect. I will create the recipes, but you test them. If you can make a meal for your toddler that she will like, everyone will know they can do it.”

  “I hope there’s a compliment in there somewhere.”

  “It’ll be a best-seller: kid-friendly recipes both mums and dads can make in twenty minutes. Promise me you’ll think about it again? It’s a great idea.”

  “Why don’t you do it with Connor?”

  “Because he’s not the stay-at-home dad. You are. You’re part of a growing demographic, Mitch.”

  At home, as he prepared Jayne’s lunch, Mitch wondered at his reluctance to do the cookbook with Cat. Was it really because he didn’t think he could contribute to the book? Or was it because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be defined as that kind of father?

  The unexpected chime of the doorbell broke his thoughts. Mitch glanced quickly down to find Jayne’s bottom sticking out of the cabinet that held their pots and pans.

  Mitch opened the door to find Mark standing on his front porch. “What are you doing here?”

  Mark took off his sunglasses, his eyes cheerful. “I’m here to take care of Jayne so you can go to Brazil and be there for your wife.”

  “She doesn’t need me there.”

  Mark shook his head. “She may say she doesn’t need you there, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you there.”

  “I have a child to take care of.”

  “Yes, my goddaughter. But I’m not foolish enough to take on this responsibility myself. I came with reinforcements,” Mark said, indicating with his head for Mitch to look behind him.

  Waving from the car were Natasha....and Raj and Anusha Kapoor.

  Mitch looked back at Mark. Before he could say anything, Mark spoke, his voice earnest and urgent. “I heard you last time. This is now your role. If you weren’t around, I’d be there. I’d pack up everyone you see behind me, rent a couple of suites, and hang out in Brazil for the month. But it’s you who needs to be by her side. Only you. With you, she’ll be invincible.”

  Mitch ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the sky behind Mark. “She’s got everything under control. She doesn’t need me there. We decided it’d be best for me to stay behind, look after Jayne.”

  “She’s got the job under control,” Mark interrupted. “And no, she doesn’t need you. But you should still be there, to share this with her, even if all you do is wave one of your flags from the stands. This is what marriage is about, isn’t it? Being there for each other?”

  “When did you become such a marriage expert? You can’t get Natasha down the aisle.”

  “That’s something she needs to work on. I know we’ll get there. I can wait. She’s worth waiting for. Like Liana is for you. Do you remember when we first met? You hated my guts at first sight. I know you did. But you still agreed to take me kayaking. I figured if you were man enough to do that for her—go out to sea with someone you didn’t like—you were going to be man enough to walk through some serious things with her.”

  “Mark...”

  “I have your flight booked. First class, leaves tomorrow. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday. Nicole Pillane will meet you at the airport. You can hang out with all the WAGs. Should make front page news, if you like that sort of thing.”

  Mitch shook his head in disbelief. “You’re one of a kind.”

  “I’m rich and famous. I can do pretty much anything I want.”

  “Fake bullets, Mark, fake bullets.”

  Mark smiled. “Go. Be with her. You two belong together. Jayne will be fine.”

  Before Mitch could say anything, Anusha pushed Mark out of the way. “Where’s my great-granddaughter? I have some lovely treats for her.” She reached up to Mitch and pulled the taller man tight into her embrace. “You better start packing. We can take care of things. Don’t worry.”

  And with that, the petite Indian woman tapped Mitch hard on the cheek, pushed him aside abruptly, and called for Jayne.

  Mitch looked at Mark, and they both laughed. He held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Mark surveyed the quiet street. A neighbor had come out to take a picture of them. Mark raised his sunglasses, rested them on his forehead and waved. “Look—I know we’ve never really trusted each other. But I know you love her—really love her—and that’s all I’ve ever needed to know. Go. Be by her side. Watch her make history.”

  Mitch spent the time on the flight reflecting on the past year. It’d been a tough one, but he never doubted he and Liana were meant to be together. There was nothing he was as confident of as that. Nothing. He knew she loved him. But Mum was right: while love was an important foundation, there was more to a relationship, more to marriage, than just that.

  Nicole Pillane was waiting for him right when he exited Customs and Immigration. She greeted him with a hug. “I’m glad you’re here! Can you believe it? We have a shot to make it to the Round of 16?”

  “Does she know I’m here?”

  “Not yet.”

  “We need to stop by a florist.”

  Nicole smiled and hugged him again. “You’re a good man, Mitch. She’s been the only one here without anyone, you know.”

  * * *

  Liana sensed Mitch was at the press conference before she saw him. She felt his gaze on her, very much like the first time their eyes met at the End of Winter Ball years ago. But she couldn’t see him.

  While trying to decide if it were her heart or mind playing tricks, she responded to the last question posed without realizing that she had automatically switched to Italian. The next question, asked by sportswriter Klaus Muller, was unusually unimaginative for him. Liana scanned the room quickly again—Are you here, Mitch? Where are you? —before answering Muller’s question as succinctly as possible. The laughter in the front row brought Liana’s attention back to the news conference. She placed a hand over the microphone and turned to Jerome, who was seated next to her. “What’s so funny?”

  “You’ve answered the last four questions in four different languages,” he replied.

  Liana blinked. “And that’s funny?”

  Jerome grinned. “I think it’s funny.”

  “Ms. Murphy... a question.”

  Liana jerked her head around. He was here! He stepped out of the shadows, so she could clearly see him. He was dressed in jeans and his familiar navy-blue sweatshirt. There was a day’s stubble on his face. And in his hand was a bouquet of daisies. He looked amazing. Liana smiled. A reporter in the second row sighed.

  “Yes, Mr. Molloy?” Liana asked, hoping to keep her professional demeanor despite the increased pace of her heartbeat.

  Cameras were clicking furiously. Phones were also whipped out, including the one in Jerome’s hand.

  “Would you be interested in dinner tonight? That is, if you don’t have anything else you have to do which involves winning the Cup?”

  Could she love this man more?

  “Mr. Molloy, all the plans have been made. The team has been briefed. They know what they have to do tomorrow. Tonight, I’d be delighted to have dinner.”

  The room emptied fairly quickly after the official end of the press conference, leaving Liana a
nd Mitch alone. She stayed on the podium studying her husband who had remained in the back. She leaned over to speak into the microphone.

  “What are you doing here, Mitch?”

  “Your best friend bought me a first-class ticket to Brazil. I must say I like spending Mark’s money. And I love knowing that, in a week, he has to take Jayne to swim class,” Mitch said. He started walking.

  “Why are you here?”

  Mitch reached Liana as she spoke the last word. He stretched over the table and held out his hand. She took it.

  “Because I’m supposed to be by your side. This is where I belong,” he said.

  She kept her hand in his as she moved along the table until the end of the podium. Mitch met her there, their hands still together. He reached around her waist to bring her closer to him and nestled his head into her bosom. She held him tight, a part of her still in disbelief he was actually here. This wasn’t part of the plan! She turned her head to kiss him and sighed. Your kisses will always reach the depth of my soul, Mitch. Always. She didn’t need him there, but she wouldn’t want him anywhere else.

  * * *

  New Zealand beat all expectations by defeating the next two teams ranked at least thirty spots higher. Even Phil couldn’t contain his excitement when the final whistle blew signaling that New Zealand had secured a place in the semifinals. They were through to the last four. He ran onto the field, running nowhere in particular. He just kept running. It was a scene that would later go viral.

  Liana continued to handle the interest with her usual professionalism and elegance. Her press conferences were always filled to capacity. Phil, by contrast, refused to speak to anyone in the media. Focus on the partners and spouses present in Brazil was also intense. Mitch was used to the cameras, but not for the reasons reported in the press.

  “Who cares whether my shorts clashed with my shirt?” he mumbled one morning at breakfast. He turned the page of the paper he was reading, and his rant continued. “You idiot! Of course, her husband wasn’t in the seats with us. He was on the field practicing... moron...”