by Ella Jackson
Matt saw the look on my face, and he guess what I was thinking. "Look, Tanya, it's not too late. Give him a chance."
"Matt, it is too late. Seriously."
"Okay, okay. I'll leave it be for the moment, but don't think I've given up on this, okay? Now, something tells me you need to get out of here and get a night's sleep. You look like death warmed up, bluntly."
I grimaced. "Boy, you're a charmer aren't you? Bet the girls all fall for your smooth lines. You staying here?"
"No, I'm packing up soon myself. I spend too much damn time here as it is." He played idly with his computer, and went to a local news site. "Hey, look! It's you-know-who."
I looked over at his screen, and my heart sank. It was Will, being interviewed. The interviewer was gushing about the prospects of the Thunderbirds for the new season, and the camera was panning over the guys, looking resolute in their shiny new kit.
"So, Mr Dempsey, what's the-"
"Please," he said with a grin. "Just Will."
The reporter was obviously smitten with him. "Sure thing. So, Will, what's your plan for the big game on Saturday night? Now you know the whole town is watching? Do you feel any pressure?"
He smiled, that wry smile. I'd seen so many times and I tried not to react. "Yes, I do." His gaze turned to take in the rest of the guys standing behind him, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. "We all do. The truth is, it's going to be damn hard, and I'm not going to sugarcoat that. But we've been training hard, and we've been thinking and with the right preparation we think we can make the best start to the season possible. This town has been welcoming to every single one of us, and we're determined to pay that back."
"So, there you have it." The reporter's polished face filled the camera screen. "That was our new captain, Will Dempsey, captain of the Cheyenne Thunderbirds, and his team getting ready for their opening MLS game this Saturday night. Don't miss it."
As they crossed back to the studio, I caught Matt looking at me.
"Tanya, this can't go on. Look at you."
I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn't shut up.
"I saw your face, dammit, when he was talking. I've never seen you look so lost. You need to try again. Can't just let him slip away."
The station was almost empty now, and I'm glad because if not this would have been embarrassing. "Matt, I don't know how many times I have to tell you, we've been through this. It's over. Done. Finito. What else can I say?"
I didn't want to know that he was telling the truth, even though I was trying to play it determined and resolute. Matt knew as well as I did that I was hurting, but he wasn't about to shut up. He knew he was right, but it didn't matter.
Jessie had been trying to get hold of me all day, but I'd been busy not to mention that are part of me wanted to put some distance between the Thunderbirds and the rest of my life. I was a cop, and that was all there was to it.
This was my life. My life, that didn't include soccer players.
The thought that Will, and I could just be friends was torture. Considering everything that happened to us over the past couple of weeks, I never thought I would be sitting here at work, almost in tears just watching his face on a stupid computer screen. In that moment I could admit that I didn't know what to do.
I wanted to have him all to myself as badly as I wanted someone to argue with me like Matt was doing, I wanted Will to change his mind, to come to his senses and tell me that he'd made a terrible mistake. But I knew that wasn't can happen.
I was no fan of being were where I wasn't wanted. I stood up, balancing myself with the cane. "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I appreciate what you're saying but it's over for both of us. I'm gonna go home and get some rest, just like you said."
He shook his head, defeated. "Okay."
I made it out the door of the station and down the street almost to my car before the tears came.
Twenty-Three
Days like today reminded me of what soccer meant to me.
Or rather, they reminded me of why had started to play in the first place. Although I asked the guys to come prepared, I didn't quite expect they would come this prepared.
Unbelievable. Every single one of them stood in front of me, grinning. Every single one of them held one of the glossy promotional photos that been made for me when I was playing in England. My teeth gleamed. I had been Photoshopped into gorgeousness. It was really, really, fucking embarrassing.
Ricky held one out. "Care to sign one, captain?"
I fought down the urge to hit him.
"Oh, captain, my captain. I-"
Joe's big speech was interrupted by an obscenity from me. Before anyone else could say anything, I opened my mouth. "Okay, very funny. If we win this game, I'll sign them all and send them all back to your wives and girlfriends. Then let's see how funny you think this is."
It was a couple of hours to kick off, and we could hear the noise of the crowd even from down here, in the changing room. We'd been through our drills, and revised our final plans. Before the opening ceremony, all that remained, for the moment, anyway, was to wait.
I knew from my own experience that this was the tough time, the time when your head would start playing tricks on you, and your muscles would start cramping up. We had a carefully planned schedule of exercises to keep us warm for the game.
The cold night air would play hell with your muscles if you weren't careful, and I'd seen a lot of players go down with cramp in the first five minutes because they hadn't taken care to warm up and stay warm. I was determined that wasn't going to happen to my team in the first damn game of the first damn season in this country.
"Okay, has anybody got any final questions? You know what we're here to do. And you know what our game plan is. I don't have much to say except to say that this first game is going to set the tone for the rest of the season. We all know that sport is an entertainment business, right?"
A few nods around the room confirmed.
I went on. "So, as well as winning we need to think of ourselves as entertainers. What that means is the way we present ourselves from the moment we go on the field, through the way we play to the moment we come off the field. We're on camera the whole damn time. I don't need to tell any of you that. So the story that is can be told tonight isn't just a story about us playing soccer – it's a story about how we present ourselves as sportsmen. That story is gonna determine our value in the marketplace. As individuals, and as a team. Is that clear?"
More nods. Outside, I could hear music and drumming as the pre-game entertainment started to ramp up. By the time we got out there, it would be deafening. Exhilarating - but also deafening. The stadium was a cauldron, and what that meant was that the sound would be amplified around and back, around and back until sometimes you almost couldn't hear yourself.
It's funny – that this point it always seems like you have lots of time, and none at all, both at the same time. At least the last few days had given me time to focus on what I want and what I need.
It had been three days since I last talked to Tanya and she left my place, leaving my life at the same time. As much as I hated the reminders of her – walking past the station, the sight of a female cop, anything else – one good thing had come out of it.
It reminded me of how you have to fight for the things that you want in life, and I knew that if the Thunderbirds were gonna be a success, I was gonna have to fight for it.
Ricky and Joe get to their feet and come to stand in front of me with their arms crossed.
"Well, we've been talking, and we had a couple of things to say." They looked around at the rest of the team. "And now is the time, just before our first game."
I paused. Team talks go one of two ways – either very well, or very badly.
Most of mine had gone well.
But not all. And forging this group of…individuals into a cohesive team had been a hell of a challenge. Tonight, I would find out whether I had succeeded or not.
&
nbsp; "Sure, go on." Whatever they had to say, I would listen, and make sure I lived up to my promise to be a captain who hears his team.
"We – right. Over the last six weeks, we've watched you train, push, argue, bully, encourage and lead all these guys. Every single one of us has a story about how you did something for us."
There was a rustle, and one by one each of the guys stood up in acknowledgement.
Ricky went on. "I'll admit, I was the first to think that we couldn't do it. That you couldn't do it. When you arrived I thought you were a pretty boy. I realise now I was wrong."
I grinned. "Yeah, I'm not that pretty."
"But what you did do, is something I've never seen before. Now I look around this room, and I see a bunch of guys who are a unit. We're ready to work together, and we're ready to bring this town a professional soccer team. We won't let you down."
I didn't know what to say. That was the longest coherent speech without an obscenity I'd ever heard from Ricky. I kept that part to myself, and settled for pasting a smile on my face and shaking his hand. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that."
There was a knock on the door, and it opened slowly. "You guys...decent...in there?"
"As decent as we ever are," came the now-common chorus.
Jessie stuck her head in, slowly at first, and then more confidently. We had gotten used to this ritual over the last six weeks, but I got the feeling she always thought we were going to trick her one day and suddenly turn up completely naked, or something like that. She looked at us all.
"How are we doing?"
I put my hands up in the air. "Pretty ready now. Now it just comes to the waiting."
She came forward and handed us sheets of paper. "This is the last minute intel we've been able to get about the opposition. It looks like their team has changed a little bit from what we had expected."
I glanced at it. "No big problem. We practised for this situation in the past. We'll make a couple of minor changes, and run a couple of different plays, but this isn't gonna change what we do when we walk out of the tunnel."
I was surprised at my own confidence in saying that. Four weeks ago, I would have expected that this would cause chaos. Now, though, I looked around the room and I saw untroubled faces. A couple of people made little notes for themselves, or leaned and talked in low tones to the others, but that was it. We had done our preparation thoroughly.
Jessie looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Are you doing okay?"
I knew what she was talking about. "Yeah," I tried not to sigh, "I'm doing okay."
Ricky and Tom were in the corner, idly rolling a ball back and forth between each other. I lifted my head and turned to look at them. "You guys – what are we going to do from the first five minutes out from kickoff?"
"Four – three – three, long sweeper, straight to the box." They answered in unison without looking up from rolling the ball back and forth.
"What happens if it goes wrong?"
"Then we play for time five minutes in. We look around to reorient ourselves. Then we switch to the backup plan, which is…"
"Okay, okay." Jessie held her hands up. "Sounds like you guys are pretty ready to play to me."
She was damn right about that. I could feel the familiar butterflies in my stomach, the sense of adrenaline before every big game, and although this might not have been the biggest crowd I ever played against, it had become the most important.
I couldn't wait.
I tried to ignore the little voice inside me saying "if only Tanya were here.", pushing it to the bottom of my mind and looking around the room one last time.
Jessie coughed. "Well, there's someone who wants to meet you. I know this isn't an ideal time, but it's important."
More damn sponsors. Couldn't they see that this was a time for players?
Still, they pay the bills, so we have to make nice with them. "Sure thing. Just give me a minute."
I walked to the door, Jessie a few steps in front of me. She opened it and stuck her head out calling down the corridor. "Come on in."
I had turned back, and was distracted looking at the opposition team sheet, so the first thing I heard was the steady tok-tok-tok of her cane on the floor.
The air thickened around me.
"Well. Thanks for agreeing to see me."
I took a deep breath. "I didn't know it was you, to be honest." I tried not to look at her, fearing that to do so would break my concentration. I needed to be in the moment, laser-focused on what was about to happen, we had half an hour to go, and now was the wrong time for this.
Last time this happened, I felt like I couldn't think straight for a whole day. "Look, if this is-"
"Please don't say anything. I just wanted to come here to say one thing, and then I'll leave you alone."
"Tanya, I've got a game to win. We've all got a game to win." At this point I almost didn't care that the rest of the team could hear me. Almost.
"Please hear me out. Please."
Something in the tone of her voice defeated me, and I took another deep breath and looked into her eyes for the first time in three days.
"Okay. Say what you need to say, and then we have a job to do. I'm sure you can appreciate that."
She paused for a minute, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I longed to put my arms around her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but I couldn't do that. That road had been closed off to both of us. I had been so desperate to give her the life that I thought I could, I didn't listen to her. It was so bad that I didn't want to remember the feeling.
I used this game as my opportunity to escape, to get myself clear from the grinding feeling of knowing that we weren't going to be together, that I wasn't going to hold her, and kiss her, ever again.
She bit her bottom lip, and I saw the unease on her face. She looked tired and overwhelmed, tiredness that was more than just wariness from work or from the accident. Tiredness of the spirit.
"I've been thinking about us. I made so many mistakes. And even if it kills me, I have to own up to them."
She kept her eyes closed while she was speaking, running the words together as if she were afraid that they would run away from her, or that I would stop her.
"I know, and I understand your priorities. I respect them, and I wouldn't want you to do anything else than the things that make you happy. When we met, my whole world changed. And even though I wanted to take it back, something inside me didn't. I didn't want you to leave that night. I didn't mean to waste your time."
At that point, the sound of the crowd, and the sound inside the room had faded; all there was was her, and I.
"Talking to Jessie made me realise what all of this meant to me. I've never been committed to someone. I always put my career first. Then meeting you brought me back to life, and even if it doesn't happen again for me, ever, I'll always be grateful to you for that."
"I'm sorry, Tanya. I wish things had been different."
She held up a hand. "You have nothing to be sorry for Will." She looked me in the eyes, those deep dark pools, and I am glad that I didn't have to say anything, because I couldn't.
"I'm gonna be in the stands tonight, Will. Tonight, and every night you're playing. I'll be here to support you, no matter what. I owe you that at least. Go out there and do what you need to do, and just know that I will always be behind you."
Without stopping she turned and made her way slowly out of the room, the noise of her cane fading into the distance.
I felt the eyes of the team on me, but didn't turn back just yet. I stared at the double doors, trying to process what I'd just heard.
I knew she was special.
Twenty-Four
The time Will had waited for his entire life had arrived. Talking to him reminded me of everything he had sacrificed, and everything we had shared. Just looking at him made me happy.
Now, though, he and the Thunderbirds had a game to play and to win.
Jessie and I made our way up into the sta
nds to the coaches' box. The security guard stopped in front of us and grinned. He recognised both of us and waved us through.
It was 10 minutes before kickoff, and I was both nervous for Will and the team, and ready to shove the guy next to me out of his seat. I looked around the box; next to me, worried-looking men in shirts and ties tapped away on computers and talked hurriedly into mobile phones.
"Hey, I got you something." Jessie rummaged in her bag underneath her enormous laptop. "Where is it? Dammit… Ah, here it is." She produced a blue-and-white jersey, just like the one Will with a bronco on the front breast. "This is your one. I guess maybe you've never had one of these before, hon?"
I shook my head. "No, sure haven't. There's a first time for everything that."
"Try it on. Come on." She looked at me expectantly, and I decided to do the right thing.
Getting it on wasn't easy with my cast and there were a few bumps and bruises as we went but with Jessie's help. I eventually sat there, breathing slightly harder than I had expected in my new Cheyenne Thunderbirds jersey.
"Well. Suits you." Jessie couldn't hide her smile. "Now if you'll excuse me…" She reached for her laptop, and started tapping away. "I've got a lot to do before kickoff." She picked up a remote control, and pressed a button an array of screens just in front of her sprang to life.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror glass overlooking the Stadium.
I looked like a different girl.
I looked like...some kind of goddamned trophy wife, to be honest. But in a way, it was worth it. I felt like I had finally made a public demonstration of my allegiance.
High above us the country music was blasting and the crowd were getting more and more excited, even though it was a cold night. On the big screen across the stadium, there were highlights on of last season's games, bright lights flashing cheerleaders, loud music.