Pol Robinson - Open Water
Page 7
The eight was nearing the end of the causeway and this time Amy was guiding them toward the dock. With a small sigh Cass slipped her feet back into her sandals and stood, brushing the sand from her shorts. She had enough time for a quick workout before dinner, if she hustled. Maybe after that she’d try to track Laura down. Secondary or not, she hated being at odds with anyone, and she couldn’t forget the look on Laura’s face as she’d ordered her out of the room, and couldn’t ignore the faint ache she felt because of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Cass stepped inside the blessedly cool facility and headed toward the gym her squad used most often. She heard voices coming through the open doorway and stopped just outside.
“Laura, what the hell is going on with you?” Coach’s voice was low, intense.
Cass peeked around the doorway to see Laura standing rigid and angry, her back braced against the weight machine. Everything about her screamed “cornered.” Neither woman saw her and Cass quickly eased back.
When Laura spoke, her voice was rough. “Nothing, Coach. I’ve got it covered.”
“Like hell. You tore out of the dorm the other day so fast you nearly ran me down.” Cass could imagine the coach running her hand through her hair, something she did often when she was frustrated. “Look. Is this about Shelly? That whole thing with Brenda? If it is—”
“No!” Laura’s response was sharp, angry.
“Laura, look. I know it’s been rough. I do. And you know I’ve got your back, one hundred percent. But...you’ve got to pull it together. The assistants are telling me you’re out there biting the heads off of your crew. You’re in the gym more than you’re in the dorms...you can’t keep this up.”
“I can. I can do it and win.”
Adler’s sigh was audible even to Cass, hovering in the hallway. “Until last week I would have agreed with you. But now...Laura, you’ve got to talk to someone.”
“I...I...” A long sigh echoed through the nearly empty room. Laura’s next words were almost too quiet for Cass to hear. “Okay. I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll talk to the doc tonight.”
Adler’s voice was calmer now, soothing. “Fine, I’ll let her know you’ll be stopping by.”
The soft sound of the far door closing echoed through the room and Cass started. She eased back farther and stepped away from the half-open door, not wanting to be caught in the hallway. A rustle of movement stopped her and she found herself peeking forward again. Cass felt a jolt in the pit of her stomach.
Laura sat slumped on the bench of the machine her elbows resting heavily on her knees, and her head hanging low, the picture of dejection. She was muttering quietly to herself and Cass strained to hear her. “Get it together, Kelly. You don’t need anyone, remember? You can do this. You can do this.”
The words had an almost desperate ring to them, and Cass found herself aching for her teammate. Again Laura’s soft voice reached her ears. This time Laura’s voice was lower, weaker. It was clear she was fighting back tears.
“I don’t know how, anymore. I am so tired...and I’m tired of doing it alone.”
When the tears came, it was too much for Cass. She carefully and quietly eased back up the hallway and slipped through the door and out into the night. Laura’s words had left her shaking and her tears had punched at Cass’s gut, making Cass hurt in a way she hadn’t thought possible anymore.
Chapter Sixteen
The boathouse was quiet and peaceful. Cass loved coming in here after everyone was gone for the day. Most of the lights were off and the rainbow of different colored shells from all over the world was muted by the night. She waved her credential at the tiny female Chinese guard and stepped inside, away from the heat and smell of the humid air outside. It was also relatively cooler in here and she sucked in the cleaner air with relief. The Chinese had built the new facility expressly for the Games and had included a circulating air system, something of a luxury compared to the boathouses she was used to. Boats lived on water, were built for moisture, but needed the dry docks to be just that, dry. Too much humidity in storage warped wood and torqued lean and clean designs. Cass didn’t know how the Chinese had accomplished it; the air inside the boathouse was cool but not too cool and as dry as was possible despite the pervasive humidity.
She walked slowly among the racks of boats, enjoying the serenity of the neatly kept, echoing room. It always amazed her that while subtle changes had been made over the years to boat designs to enhance speed and fluidity through the water, the basic shape of the sculls was the same for everyone. Lighter materials, streamlined hulls, curved and cambered oar blades helped, but in the end it always came down to one thing: the athlete. If the athlete wasn’t ready on the right day at the right time and the mental game wasn’t there, it didn’t matter how perfect the equipment, the boat wouldn’t win.
Coming to the end of the row, Cass turned and moved along the concrete walkway. Lit by a single bulb hanging high above the aisle, the long shells disappeared into the darkness, adding to the air of mystery and silence in the cavernous space. A slight breeze carried with it the scents of fish, salt and sea that permeated every boathouse she knew. Mixed with that was the faint tang of the oils used to maintain the equipment of her sport. The thick, dark oil used on the slide runners to keep the seats moving smoothly within the shell mixed with the lighter oil for the gunnels and combined with the sweet smell of the wax some teams used on their shells to increase their speed. It all smelled like home to her. The familiar mixed with the new, all adding up to the friendly welcome-home boathouse aroma she so deeply loved.
Finding her own boat, Cass walked along, her fingers lightly trailing along the smooth, deep blue hull, her mind on the conversation she’d just overheard. She didn’t know what was driving Laura, what demons were chasing her, but she could certainly understand about being alone. Alone was something Cass had dealt with for a long, long time.
She had friends, sure, and some closer than others. Here in Beijing she had made friends she was sure she’d have for the rest of her life. The experience they were sharing almost ensured that. But...deep inside, where it counted, she often felt alone. It was funny, Cass thought. In a country of more than one billion people, more now with the Olympians and their families and fans, she was alone.
It’s a habit, she realized. I don’t know how not to be alone anymore. After a year of focusing on herself and on her training, she didn’t know how to let anyone in. Not really in, where it counted. Not that anyone was beating down the doors, but... If someone, if Laura, wanted in, I don’t know how. I—
Thinking back to the night she and a few of the women had gone out to dinner, she bit back an automatic grimace of remembered embarrassment as Amy’s words came back to her. “Who’s talking about love? We’re talkin’ wild, hot, monkey-sex.”
Just the memory of that offhand comment made Cass flush and she jammed her hands into her pockets, heedless of the oily cloth in her hands. She wasn’t a prude by any standard, she just didn’t...hadn’t...there’d been nobody she’d ever really wanted to get that close to. Maybe she really had been messed up by her crazy aunt and uncle and their “sex equals sin” diatribes. She couldn’t imagine just...letting go and...well, letting go. And even if she wanted to, it wasn’t like she had anyone she could just...approach. Even as she thought it, she closed her eyes as a memory flashed through. Laura, standing at the controls of the coach’s launch, long, toned legs extending from worn shorts, her feet bare on the deck, the afternoon sun lighting her features and kissing her hair with fire.
Cass froze, her heart thudding in her chest. She sucked in a surprised breath and purposely stilled her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her hands from her pockets and deliberately focused her attention on the long hull beneath her fingertips. What am I thinking? There’s nobody to let in and no reason to. It’s clear that Laura’s got her own issues, and big ones. I don’t need that. I have a goal, and I have a plan. Somehow her own thoughts rang false in her head
. She relentlessly shoved that afternoon memory away, slamming the door behind it.
Cass wandered aimlessly out of the back door of the boathouse, down the ramp and onto the dock. She bounced once, twice, enjoying the springy feel as it rested on the water. The dock was anchored in place by the pilings jutting out from the bed of the man-made river. She walked to the end and sat, her back against the tall piling, her toes dangling in the dark water below. A soft breeze blew up the course from the ocean, lifting her sweat-dampened hair from her neck. She turned her face toward the breeze and lay back, gazing at the stars. Small and large, faint and bright, they winked at her, moving in their slow dance across the sky as she lay on the dock. Alone.
Chapter Seventeen
Breathing deeply and trying to ignore the ever-present heaviness in the air, Cass ignored the voices of the men behind her and turned left, back toward the village. She grinned as she heard the men whistle and call, not understanding the words, but understanding the tone. She passed these same old men every day and every day they called out to her in Chinese. It was harmless and while she was not sure if they were cheering her on or inviting her to stop and visit, she had begun to look forward to hearing them at the end of her daily runs. It was darker now, she was out later than she’d intended. She picked up her pace, wanting to get back to the athletes village part of the residential section before full dark. She was not afraid of running alone, but she was not stupid enough to invite danger either. While most of the city was caught up in the kinship and brotherhood of the Olympic spirit, she was not naive enough to believe that everyone here was harmless.
The sound of a second pair of shoes slapping against the pavement behind her caught her attention and she glanced back over her shoulder, startled to see a flash of blue illuminated by the lights spilling out of the open doorways on the street. Uneasy now, Cass picked up her pace and took the last turn toward her building, choosing a busier street than she usually did just to be safe. Behind her she heard the steps of her pursuer coming closer. She slowed, tensed up and prepared to defend herself, preferring to fight on her own terms rather than be surprised on someone else’s. Despite her preparations, a breathless voice behind Cass threw her off her stride.
“You should be careful, running alone at night.”
The last voice she had expected to hear was Laura’s. Cass recovered quickly. “Yeah, I guess. But, I’m not running alone now, am I?” Winded from the run and the additional adrenaline, she saw Laura adjust her pace to her own shorter stride as Laura pulled even with her. “You don’t have to run with me, you know. We’re almost there.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself.”
Tired from her run and of her teammate’s short, almost dismissive responses, Cass was unusually abrupt herself. Since the day Laura had picked her up at the airport, the lanky rower had made an effort, or so it seemed to Cass, to avoid any sort of communication with her that might be construed as friendly. Every attempt Cass made was cut short or simply ignored.
Last week’s episode over the toilet had been humiliating. More so because Laura had been the one to witness her misery. Cass was embarrassed both by her behavior that night and the fact that she’d been rude to Laura, sending her away without even a thank you for helping both her and Amy when they’d needed it.
Amy had recovered from their overindulgence with no lasting effects, while Cass had paid dearly for her experiment with the local fermented drinks. Coach had required extra practices the next day, and Cass was certain it was because she’d been aware of the women’s adventures with the rice wine. Despite her embarrassment, Cass had been determined to find and thank Laura for her help and to apologize for being rude. However, every time she’d tried, Laura had found an excuse to leave, or had simply avoided being near enough to Cass to talk. It was frustrating, annoying, but tonight it was bothering her more than it should.
Maybe it was the conversation she’d overheard between Coach and Laura, maybe it was her own nerves about the upcoming heats. Whatever it was, Cass’s normal good nature wasn’t serving her tonight. Let it go Cass, you don’t have to be everybody’s friend. It’d be nice to get more than two words from her though. She’s...interesting. Despite Laura’s abruptness and apparent unwillingness to even be polite, Cass had found herself watching the rower at odd times during the day. There was something about her that drew Cass, and while she was not clear on what to do about it, she was pretty clear on the fact that Laura did not seem to have any interest in her, professionally or personally. While the professional aspect pricked her ego a bit, the personal side and her own reaction to it perplexed her. It wasn’t like Cass to be fixated on someone, especially someone who showed no interest in return.
As they neared the front of their building, Laura gave Cass a brief nod and stopped along the front pathway to stretch, breathing deeply as she windmilled her arms and shook out her legs. Cass glanced at the enigmatic rower, but said nothing as she, too, began her post-run stretching and cool down. Lying on the grass, she bent one leg behind her and leaned back, trying to ease a growing cramp in her calf. It was in her bad leg and because she’d pushed a little harder than usual at the end of her run, she was feeling the pain. Shifting again, Cass grunted as the calf seized up entirely, the muscles beneath her scar going into a spasm she knew wouldn’t end soon without help.
“Damn.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I...damn. No.” Reluctantly, she looked up at Laura, appreciating even through the pain in her leg the beauty of the woman before her, washed into black and white by the night and the artificial illumination around them. “I know you’re not crazy about me, but I could use a hand here. Charley horse.”
“Sure.” Ignoring the hand Cass was holding up, Laura instead bent and ran her hands down Cass’s leg. “It’s this one, right?”
“Uh...” Cass stuttered, her brain skipping to a halt as Laura’s warm hands enveloped her calf. “Yeah, it’s right—”
“Shh, yeah, I know, I can feel it. Hard as a rock. Lean back, okay?” Laura gently raised Cass’s leg, her green eyes dark as Cass fell backward onto the grass. Laura slid her hands up along the calf, fingers lightly tracing the crisscrossing scar tissue and feeling the knotted muscle underneath the surface. She began to push Cass’s toes upward, forcing the muscle to stretch. Laura gently extended the muscle, her long fingers brushing the keloid scarring that twisted up the leg. Cass watched as Laura’s eyes followed the path of her fingers and for the first time in a long while, found herself wanting to explain the scarring. Then Laura’s grip shifted and she ran her fingers along the back of Cass’s calf, working to ease the spasm. Below her, Cass gasped in pain, but nodded at Laura’s questioning look.
“Yeah, keep going.” Despite the pain, Cass was very aware of Laura’s hands on her skin. Moreover, she was aware of her reaction to those hands.
“I um...” Laura stammered as she kept pushing Cass’s foot upward, waiting for the muscle to release beneath her fingers. “Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I don’t like you. I don’t know how you got that idea.”
Grunting as her muscles fought against Laura’s manipulation of them, Cass grimaced. “Yeah okay. Must’ve been my mistake, then.” Aggravated by both the pain and Laura’s attitude of the last weeks, Cass let her frustrations loose. “You don’t know how could I have gotten that idea? Maybe when you ditched me at the airport?” She shifted slightly, finally feeling the tense knot begin to relax. “Could it be because you’ve not spoken to me more than twice, until tonight? Or, wait, maybe because I got drunk, sick and threw you—”
“Okay. Okay.” Laura gently let Cass’s leg fall forward, still massaging the scarred calf. “I guess I was a bit...standoffish. Sorry.”
“Standoffish? Wow, do you have a gift for understatement.”
Relieved to have the knotted muscle loosened again and aware of the flushing warmth filling her at Laura’s touch, Cass pulled her leg from Laura’s
hands. She was not being fair and she knew it. She was covering her unexpected reaction to Laura’s touch with a biting sarcasm that wasn’t normally her style. Belatedly remembering her plan to thank Laura for her help the week before, Cass was embarrassed all over again. “I’m sorry, too. Um, and about last week, I—”
Laura cut her off. “Let’s just forget about last week, all right?” Laura extended her hands again, offering Cass help up. She grimaced and added, “I’d just rather not talk about it.”
Cass waved her hands away. “No, wait. I can’t just forget it. I was rude to you when you were trying to help me.” She looked up at Laura. “The worst part is that I felt...” She stopped and bit her lip. “I felt like I hurt your feelings and...well, I’m sorry.”
Laura just stood there, gazing at her, her expression blank. Cass waited a moment and shrugged, then looked away. Okay, well, that went well. Guess she really did want to just forget about it. She grimaced as she began to stand; despite her efforts, her calf was cramping again.
“Here. It’ll be easier if I help you, okay?” Laura squatted and reached again for Cass’s hands. “It’s okay, really. You didn’t hurt my feelings. And...I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome.”
Cass slipped her hands into Laura’s and gingerly stood. With Laura holding her steady she flexed her leg again, her attention slipping from the pain in her leg to the warmth of the fingers holding hers. Warm and dry and larger than Cass’s, with the calluses that marked every rower’s hands, Laura’s enveloped Cass’s own without restricting them. Hands...hands are always my weakness. I love hands.
Cass shook her head when she found herself staring down at their entangled fingers. It was time for a hot shower and some food before heading to bed, she decided. When you start soliloquizing about hands...jeez. “Look, I’m tired, hungry, hurting and nervous as hell about next week. So...apology accepted.” Cass, pulling her hands free, bent and stretched one last time, and then started toward the doors of their building. “I really did feel as though you’d ditched me at the airport, though.”