by Kim Findlay
“That’s very kind of you. We haven’t been going out long. I’m pretty new to all of this.”
“I can imagine. Many of us have been with our guys since high school or the farm team days, so we came up the ranks with them. It must be a little overwhelming to be just dropped into this when you’re not used to it.”
Bridget had nodded. So far, her relationship with Mike had been private. Now that was going to change, and she didn’t know just how that would affect things between them.
“I just want you to feel free to let us know if there’s any way we can help you. It’s not always easy dating a professional athlete. We keep in touch with friends on other teams, so if Mike should move on...”
Bridget knew what she meant. As soon as the playoffs were over, Mike would be on the move, and that could be soon. Bridget had been avoiding that thought. Once his contract expired at the end of June, he would be a free agent. And there wasn’t much chance he’d be signing again with a Toronto team, considering their respective finances. Bridget had no idea where things were going after that.
“The WAGs can help you find places to stay, reliable movers, help with the paperwork involved...if you’re ever in a position to need something like that, we help each other.”
Bridget blinked. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “That’s very kind of you. Do you help find work as well?” she asked, mostly as a joke.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a swim coach.”
“So, you teach swimming lessons?” she asked, with brows creased.
Bridget had come across this response before. Swimming was a sport that only caught the public eye every four years, when the Olympics pulled everyone’s attention for a couple of weeks, so it was easy to overlook the constant time and commitment it took to excel. “Not exactly. I work with competitive swimmers—the kind who race, hoping to represent Canada internationally, and maybe even in the Olympics. I used to compete myself, and now I coach. A couple of my kids just placed well at Nationals in Winnipeg last weekend, so we’re getting there.” Bridget was still pretty pleased about that.
Olivia looked concerned. “Would that not be difficult? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interfere. I just imagine that’s a very limited field you work in, and it might not be easy to find openings when—if you moved around. But, then, if you ever plan on a family, you’d probably have to give that up.”
Bridget had been a little overwhelmed at how much this was projecting into a future she was unsure about. She appreciated the welcome Olivia was offering, and realized she had a lot to consider. However, a stranger making an assumption like this about Bridget’s potential, possible, maybe-but-let’s-not-jinx-it future? It made her sit up. “It’s not the 1950s anymore. Women are allowed to have a job and a family.”
Olivia looked at her sympathetically. “Hon, it might not be 1950, but we’re talking professional athletes here. It makes a difference. They get traded anytime. Just look at Mike. He had a no-trade clause, and what happened to him? When they get traded, they have to hop on a plane and go. Who’s going to pack up, get the kids out of school, sell the house and find a new one? He can’t do it. He’s committed to playing with the new team.” Seeing Bridget’s face, she continued. “I’m not trying to scare you, and I know you two haven’t been together that long, but that’s what’s involved when you’re with a pro. Take a good look at things before you commit. Have you got your phone with you? I’ll put in my number. If you need to talk to someone, I’ve got a good ear.”
Bridget passed over her phone. As she watched Olivia, she wondered why the woman had come to apparently warn her. It was kind, but was there some reason Bridget needed that message in particular?
“This is awfully nice of you. Does everyone get a welcome like this?”
Olivia laughed. “Not necessarily. Troy over there—” she nodded to the far side of the room where Troy’s arm was held by a blonde with cleavage threatening to spill from her low-cut neckline “—brings someone new to every event, so we haven’t pulled out the welcome wagon yet. Mike is different, but you know that.”
Bridget nodded. Mike was different, in many ways. They’d been having difficulties getting their schedules to sync up so they could spend time together, but that wasn’t going to be the only bridge to cross. Events like this, possible publicity. Olivia was right, Bridget needed to look at this seriously. The compromise she’d had to make tonight? That was just the beginning, and Bridget wasn’t sure where it would end.
* * *
TODAY, THOUGH, BRIDGET was in a good mood as she walked into the club. For the next few weeks she had nothing to stress over. She was ready to get to work on the lighter summer training season for her athletes.
She was later than usual entering the building, since there wouldn’t be morning practices for a while. But she had some paperwork to clear up and wanted to fine tune the training plan for the off season. There was also some new information on nutrition and performance she wanted to look into. She’d have to see what Wally would do with the award plaque. He wasn’t going to want to feature it, but it was a big deal. She was so absorbed in her thoughts as she made her way down the hallway that it wasn’t until the door to the pool resisted her push that she noticed the sign. “Closed till further notice.”
Bridget frowned. What was this about? She would have been among the first to hear if there was a problem with the pool. Had someone fouled it last night? She pulled her phone out of her bag and checked for messages.
There was nothing from the club, but she did see an email from Annabelle’s mother asking about any other swim clubs Bridget would recommend for Annabelle to transfer to. Bridget had a bad feeling and knew exactly where to look for answers. She stalked down the hallway to Wally the Weasel’s office.
He wasn’t there, so she sat in a chair to wait for him. In the meantime, she started texting.
Monica, the instructor who ran the aqua aerobics classes during the day, responded first. She’d received an email from Wally a week previously that classes were suspended indefinitely. The pool was closed for structural maintenance.
Bridget’s temper smoldered as she read the email Monica forwarded. Wally had included everyone but her; that was obviously deliberate. And what was this with the pool and structural maintenance? Surely she would have heard if anyone was having problems with the pool? After the triumph at Nationals, Bridget was looking forward to building on that success. If the program was canceled for any length of time, Annabelle and Austin would switch to another club to keep their training going. She’d lose her best athletes, and swimmers of their caliber were rare. She’d be starting from scratch again.
By the time Wally showed up, Bridget was ready to ignite. More emails and texts had confirmed that Wally had closed the pool down for the duration, probably as soon as Bridget and her team left for Winnipeg. Monica was going to teach aerobics classes in the gym, but Bridget only coached swimming. There was nothing for her to do without a pool. The pool didn’t get a lot of use in the summer, since members left on vacation and spent time at clubs with outdoor sports, but the competitive swimming program didn’t take a break.
Wally was almost around his desk before he noticed Bridget sitting in one of the visitor chairs.
“Oh, Bridget.” He swallowed. “I didn’t see you there. I’m kind of busy...” His voice trailed off as Bridget stood up and closed the door firmly.
“So what’s going on, Wally?”
“The name is Walter—” He scurried behind his desk as he saw the look on Bridget’s face. He swallowed again. “You mean about the pool, I suppose.”
“Yes, you suppose right. I’m usually the first person using the pool any given day. Yet, again, you’ve failed to notify me about something important to my job.”
“Oh, dear, did you not get the email? Maybe your server?”
“Cut the crap, Wally,” Br
idget answered. “Monica forwarded me the email you sent out. I wasn’t on the list. In fact, there were a couple of emails, all of them connected to the pool and this problem you’d detected, but I wasn’t on any of them. I’m the swim coach, and I was never asked about it, or told that there was an issue.”
“I’m not sure I like your attitude—”
Bridget stood up. “And I don’t like your crap. You’ve had it in for me ever since I started that swimming program. First, you spread lies about my personal life, and now you’re jeopardizing the entire swimming program here for some kind of petty revenge? What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t like these insinuations—”
Bridget’s voice was rising. She leaned over his desk, gripping the wooden edge to resist the temptation to grab him around his weaselly neck. “Don’t you care that the two most promising swimmers we have are probably going to leave? What if their families leave as well? Is getting back at me worth it? I suppose you didn’t know that the Thorpes were talking to me about their granddaughter joining the program. You know the Thorpes, original member family, rich, the kind you toady up to, you sniveling little—”
Bridget’s diatribe came to an abrupt halt, not because she’d run out of words but because a pair of arms had suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist. Neither she nor Wally had noticed the door opening behind them.
“Mike Reimer!” Wally said sneeringly. “Now we have the happy couple.”
“Mike! What are you doing here?” asked Bridget.
“I got your text and thought I might be needed,” Mike responded.
“Is this what you’re upset about, Wally? Because I said no to you but yes to someone else? Is there even a problem with the pool?” Bridget asked.
Wally looked offended. “There certainly was a problem. And summer is when the pool gets the least usage. I’m merely looking out for...” He trailed off as he saw the look Bridget was giving him.
Mike spoke over her shoulder.
“I don’t know how much influence I still have here, but I’ll certainly let people know that the manager of the club didn’t communicate with his staff about major events that impact their programs. I think I’d also want to ask about the timing of this repair work.”
Wally’s mouth dropped open.
“I wouldn’t want Bridget to have an assault charge on her record, since she works with kids, so I’ll take her with me now, but remember, that doesn’t necessarily apply to hockey players. And, in case you didn’t know, she has five older brothers.”
With that he swung Bridget around and gave her a little push out the door.
* * *
BRIDGET WAS ALMOST shaking with anger as they walked down the hallway and out the door. When she would have continued to her car, Mike steered her to his Land Rover.
“I don’t think you’re good to drive right now.”
Mike was surprised when she let that pass, but she was still focused on Wally and the pool situation. They’d gone a few blocks before she asked where they were going.
“I’m taking you home.”
“I need my car!”
“We’ll come back for it.”
Other than that, Bridget was quiet, but her expression was stormy. When they got to the O’Reillys, she didn’t react when he turned off the vehicle.
Mike gave her a moment.
“You’ve got the keys to the garage, right?”
Bridget came out of the dark place she’d been in and asked, “What do you want from the garage?”
“I’m not going to let you take shots at me without some kind of protection,” he answered.
She stared at him, then marched to the garage.
Mike dragged the net down into position, adjusted his stick, and let her start.
For the first ten minutes, Bridget shot without much precision or planning, but with a lot of force. The sound of the ball hitting Mike’s pads or gloves echoed in the morning air. Gradually the anger worked through, and he could tell when she started thinking, could almost pinpoint the moment when she remembered their bet about the McLaren. He had to work a lot harder after that.
It took almost an hour, but Bridget finally stood, and pushed her face guard up. She was flushed, and breathing heavily, but the glare was gone from her eyes.
“Thanks,” she said.
Mike straightened up from his defensive stance and took off his helmet.
“Feel better now?”
“Yes. I’m still angry, but I probably won’t punch him now. Probably. Wait, shouldn’t you be at practice?”
“I took a personal day. I can do that once in a while.”
“Probably just as well that you did. I was so angry. I’m not sure what I might have said if you hadn’t shown up.”
“So what I overheard was the censored stuff?”
“I kept getting madder when I realized just what he’d done.” Bridget stopped, jaw clenched.
“Hungry?”
Bridget blinked at him.
“Let’s go grab a bite and talk about it.”
They packed up the hockey gear and went to a nearby diner, since Mrs. O’Reilly was helping at an event at the church and wasn’t around to offer food. Mike let Bridget vent, revealing more than she realized as she spoke about how this would affect her kids and her own prospects. The success of the last month had moved her career timeline up drastically, and this setback could derail things. She’d had strong hopes for Annabelle and Austin, but she couldn’t train them without a base, and the other swim clubs already had coaches. Their results at Nationals meant her A-team could transfer into good clubs, and by the time the pool was up and going again at the athletic club, there’d be little motivation for them to move back. And she wouldn’t try to hold them back just because she, Bridget, was grounded by Wally. That wouldn’t be right.
Mike became aware that he hadn’t appreciated how much this meant to Bridget, and how driven she was. He knew they shared a competitive drive, but hadn’t fully grasped that she was equally intent on her dream and her passion. Her two As might be difficult to replace, but Mike thought Bridget was just as singular. He wished he could help, but from what he’d gathered from a call this morning to his sponsor at the club, the pool work had started while the team was in Winnipeg, so he couldn’t get it reversed at this point. He also knew his influence was not that great. He’d hardly been at the club the past few months, and his contract with Toronto would be expiring soon. And who knew where he’d be then? His threat to Wally had nothing much to back it up.
So he listened, and agreed with her most insulting aspersions on Wally the Weasel, and thought of something that might distract her, and help him as well.
* * *
AFTER THAT TALK, Mike asked for a meeting with management and the coach. They agreed to his request, but he noticed the wariness on the faces of the men in the room. He didn’t have his agent with him, and he told them from the start that this wasn’t about his future.
The atmosphere relaxed. Right now, no one was sure what to do with Mike. He was playing as well as he ever had, but what would happen once the playoffs started? Mike was determined that if he asked for another meeting they’d be the ones looking to negotiate, but he had something else in mind.
“I don’t want to sound arrogant, but right now, our playoff hopes rise and fall with me. Agreed?”
There was a murmur, but for the most part, assent. If Mike couldn’t play his best, the team wasn’t strong enough to compensate.
“The big question is whether I can still perform. Last year I failed. No question. So this year, I’m asking for a favor, one that will help me play better.”
Wariness again. Mike laid it out for them. His coach looked skeptical, but management was fine with his request. For them, there was little cost, and if they could get Mike to take the team further into the pla
yoffs, there was a lot of revenue to be made.
* * *
BRIDGET MET MIKE after the last game of the regular season. Mike hadn’t played. Most of the starters had been rested. This game wouldn’t affect the playoff positions, so there was no need to risk an injury. Mike met her at the arena and took her to a smaller bar, but he was still greeted by a lot of people. Most were asking for reassurance about the playoffs. The mood in the city was cautiously optimistic. They’d been here last year, and it hadn’t gone well. But the team was playing better, especially the goalie. Mike did his public relations bit with the fans they encountered, and said things looked to be going well, but he knew, and they knew, that it all came down to what happened on the ice next week.
They finally found a seat in a booth, and after a few minutes, had a chance to talk.
“Pressure is ramping up, eh?” said Bridget.
Mike could see that she had to force the smile. She’d reached out to people she knew, both here in Toronto, and anywhere else she had connections, but there was nothing to be done as far as coaching went. No one was looking for a swim coach at Bridget’s level of competition. She was under contract at the club until the end of the summer, but there was nothing for her to do. The pool might reopen in a month or two, but her A-team had found new clubs to train with. Annabelle had been able to get a place in the club Bridget claimed was the best in the city, maybe in the country, with Jonesy, the coach she’d met in Atlanta. It was a compliment to Bridget’s coaching that the girl was accepted there. Mike appreciated that while she was proud of her athlete, it was hard to let her go.
Her comment gave him an opening for his idea. It would help him, and by helping him help the Blaze as a whole. And he hoped it would help Bridget, too. It would give her a distraction, and maybe a sense of purpose that was missing at the moment.
“Yes, pressure is definitely on,” he agreed.