CHAPTER EIGHT
“Move it, Holmes! Watch your man! Watch him!”
Eden rolled her eyes while Robert Pak yelled more instructions—punctuated with language she was still not allowed to use in front of them—to the St. Anne’s players on the TV set.
Donald Harrison-Pak looked up from his crossword puzzle. His brown eyes peered over reading glasses. “Sorry.”
Eden laughed. “Hey, it’s less embarrassing than if we had gone with him to the game.”
“I’m right here, loved ones, right here,” Robert said, sitting down on the sofa again. “How’s the ankle?”
“Good.” Eden reached for the ice pack and wiggled her toes. “I’m not feeling anything while it’s resting.”
“That’s a good sign. I’d take a week off from swimming if I were you.”
“I can’t. I still want to make that meet in San Luis Obispo. What do you think, Pop?”
Donald turned the page of his book but didn’t look up. “The same rules apply for you in your thirties as they did in your teens. Dad handles all the sports questions. I keep you in shape with schoolwork.”
“But I’m not in school anymore.”
“My job is done,” he said calmly.
“However —” interrupted Robert.
Eden braced herself for her dad’s next words.
“—we’re still very interested in anyone you may or may not have kissed recently.”
Donald put his book down and removed his glasses. Eden didn’t need a mirror to know her face was now a full shade of pink.
“You’ve kissed someone recently?” Donald asked.
Eden looked at Robert. “Let me guess. Aidan said something?”
Robert pulled out his phone and scrolled through a few messages. “Where is it? Ah, yes. ‘Pop! Mom kissed Mano! In front of me! What if he doesn’t want to be my coach because of that?’”
“This Mano? Is he Aidan’s coach? The rugby coach he keeps going on about?” Donald asked.
“Yes and no,” Eden said. “Mano’s just helping Matthew Yuan and Aidan out a little. On a Monday afternoon. No formal contract or anything. In the cul-de-sac.”
“And you kissed him?” Donald asked.
“Pop, I’m a grown woman,” Eden protested. “I don’t have to let you in on my love life.”
Donald picked up his book again. “No, you’re right. But it’s good to know you have a love life again.”
“Amen,” Robert said, then he stood up abruptly again. “Holmes! Oh my god! Another try for Cal! I hope your man Mano has a plan for this team. The talent is there but the discipline? Stressing me out. Do you have any beer? Oh, wait—speak of the devil! Mano’s on! Turn it up, Eden.”
Reporter: You’ve been here for a couple of months now. What do you think about the game here at the college level?
Mano: I’m impressed. There’s some good rugby going on, but it’s a different style to what I’m used to. I’m looking forward to learning and contributing to the team at St. Anne’s.
Reporter: What do you mean by ‘style’?
Mano: Each country has a unique culture to its game. Understand the culture, understand the sport. I come with a lot of experiences that started when I was a toddler. Many of the kids here only begin playing rugby after trying out other sports. That changes the way you play. It’s a good thing. Rugby’s still so young in America. It’s exciting for all of us who love the game.
Donald glanced at Eden, his pen now still. “So that’s Mano Palua. Good-looking guy. Aidan likes him?”
Eden scrutinized her short nails. “Yes.”
“Do you like him?”
Eden sighed. Out of her two dads, Donald had the knack to ask the right questions even if she didn’t want to answer them. He also had the patience of a saint; he could wait until the sun went down, and on occasion, when she was testing the boundaries her parents had set for her, he did. He’d never push, but he expected an answer.
“I guess,” she said. “We’ve agreed to be friends.”
“But you’ve kissed him,” Robert interrupted, throwing a knowing look at Donald.
“He wants to be friends, and I can respect that. He’s still getting over a relationship, I think,” Eden said.
Donald nodded, returning to his puzzle. “Good thinking, Eden. He’ll be the type of person who can appreciate your determination to make Nationals. Not many men will, especially if it means coming in second for your time. Or, in this case, since you’re a mom, third.”
“Fifth,” Robert said. “After us and her job.”
“I’m suddenly not feeling very hopeful about ever being in a relationship again. Thanks, dads.”
“As your father, I’m good with that,” Donald said.
They left after lunch, promising to send a photo of them with Aidan and the twins later that day. It was something they had worked out with Brandon and Lisa a year ago, soon after the twins had turned two. A quick trip to the corner ice-cream shop gave Brandon and Lisa a break for an hour, and it gave Aidan some precious times with his grandparents.
Her dads had stocked up the fridge for the next couple of days, so there was no reason for her to leave the apartment. She glanced at the paperwork on the dining table and scrunched her nose at it. Nothing urgent there. She didn’t even have laundry to do to avoid work-work, with Pop tackling it while Dad cooked.
She actually had free time. On her own. By herself. When was the last time that happened?
Eden moved gingerly to the balcony, ice pack in one hand, phone in the other. Bright blue skies beckoned her to relax. The trail below was busy, and she smiled at the sight of a young family dealing with the tantrum of a toddler while appeasing the cries of their older child screaming for them to “Hurry up!”
Putting on her earbuds, the voices of Aretha, Marvin, and Smokey took her back to her childhood. Pop always had them — and nearly everyone from Motown— playing when he cooked. Their music greeted her when she got home from school, when Pop checked homework, then in the car when he drove her to the pool or the gym.
Robert Pak would pick her up after training, take care of dinner, finish the last of the schoolwork, then bed. Regimented for months, for years. That’s how they did it. The three of them. Juggling schedules to make things work. Her swimming scholarship to Cal was a family triumph.
Her unexpected pregnancy wasn’t.
She had been scared—so scared—to tell them. Their disappointment at losing her scholarship was never voiced. They stayed by her side. They were there at every prenatal visit and at the hospital. Even in the delivery room. They, once again, adjusted their lives so Aidan was never with a stranger. They covered her expenses when she couldn’t land a job. They never judged. They just loved her. Brandon had once asked her if she missed having a mother.
“I don’t know what it means to have one,” she had said. “I have two dads. They gave me everything.”
It wasn’t until she was in high school did she learn how much Pop hated the overnight shifts. But it made sense as a family for him to do it whenever he could. Nor did she know until she was an adult how hard her dads had to fight in court to have them both listed as her legal guardians. When she and Brandon became parents and discussed their insurance plans, only then did she understand the relief in Robert Pak’s voice the day she had turned eighteen.
She was always their priority.
They sacrificed more things than she’d ever know to keep their family life intact.
If only she were as selfless as they were.
She pushed that errant thought to the back of her mind, annoyed that she had it. But it was there: the doubt that she deserved the opportunity to train again. It always surfaced when she hit a bump in the road.
She turned up the volume of the music, flexing and unflexing her ankle. No real pain but a little stiff. She closed her eyes and visualized the meet that she was training for. She’d swum at the Aquatic Center before. She knew what the lanes looked like and how the block wo
uld feel when she pushed against it at the sound of the starter’s buzzer.
Clean strokes. Body long and flat. All within reach. She can cut those seconds off.
Her phone buzzed.
* * *
Mano: Look down.
* * *
She pulled her earbuds off and waved. “Hi! Did you just get back from Berkeley?”
He nodded, then typed into his phone.
* * *
Mano: Yes. Want some company?
* * *
She smiled.
* * *
Eden: Come on up! I’ll buzz you in.
* * *
She greeted him at the door a few minutes later, his eyes automatically fixed to her foot.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Not bad,” she said, closing the door behind him. “Tough game.”
“You watched it?”
She nodded. “Dad made sure it was on the whole time he was here. Brett seemed particularly…uh…energetic?”
“It wasn’t a party bus coming back, that’s for sure.” He shook his head at her offer of water. “Do you need help with dinner tonight?”
“My parents dropped off some groceries and some pasta. They’re good in a crisis, and I’ve given them enough practice, they didn’t even blink at this one.” She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “This is the longest conversation we’ve had without someone being in pain.”
Mano nodded solemnly. “This friend thing could work out, eh?”
“There is hope.”
He stayed for dinner, telling her to rest her ankle while he brought out the pasta and salad. She peppered him with questions about New Zealand; he asked about her swimming meet and who would be attending.
“Just me.”
“Your parents won’t be there?”
“They’re both working. My teammates from the clubs will be there, both old and new. It’s been a long time since I needed anyone in the stands.” She shrugged and reached for a snickerdoodle her dad always included. “Did you like having family watch you play?”
He nodded. “Didn’t realize how much until I was in France.”
“You played worse?”
He scowled. “I’m a professional. Who’s in the stands doesn’t affect me. But I like having my family watch. Not strangers. They cared about the team, the results. Me, personally? Not so much. You quickly learn who you can count on when things get rough in your sport.”
“Yeah, I get that. After I became pregnant, it felt lonelier. But that wasn’t really a surprise. Competing takes us away from the rest of the world. If you’re not on the train, you get left behind.”
She recognized the empathy in his eyes.
Mano leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. “How about Aidan? He said he wants to watch you swim. That he hasn’t seen you compete all year.”
“I know.” She reached for her earlobe. “He used to watch me swim years ago, but I can’t focus if I’m worried about where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s in trouble, who the strangers are around him.”
“I can take him if you like.”
“Thanks, but you’re playing away that weekend,” she said, her mind seeing the large calendar of matches and games on Alistair’s wall. They—Alistair, Sarah, and her—stared at it often enough as they planned the logistics of home and away matches across all of St. Anne’s sports teams.
“Brett doesn’t want me to go.”
Her mouth gaped. “What? What does Alistair say?”
He smiled. “Brett told Alistair I’m needed with the women’s team that weekend. They’re playing at home. A fair point, and I’m glad to help. They’re a good team.”
She frowned. “They are. But—”
Mano looked up. “They’re playing Saturday morning, so I can take Aidan down with me in the afternoon. Will we be too late to see you swim?”
“My first event is scheduled for the evening. The next is on Sunday. But I can’t impose on your time.”
“It’s not an imposition. Isn’t this what friends do, eh? Or at least what my friends would do.”
She mirrored his action and crossed her arms. “Why do I feel like I’m being bamboozled into a corner here. Is this you or Aidan?”
Mano allowed himself a slight smile. “He has brought it up a few times, wanting to see you swim, I mean. Until a couple of hours ago, I didn’t know how I could help him.”
Eden sighed. “I wish he would talk to me.”
Mano reached for Eden’s now empty plate, placed it on top of his, then stood up. “My mother was a netball champion in high school. She played at a time before digital cameras. I wish I saw what she was like as a player. Her friends said I had the same expression on my face whenever I competed. Let him watch you.”
He spoke with such a matter-of-fact tone that she didn’t expect the lump that formed in her throat or the sudden appearance of tears.
“Eden? What’s wrong?”
She cleared her voice. “The only video I have of my mother is when she competed at Nationals at eighteen. I still watch it sometimes, you know.”
Later that night, alone, she pulled out her laptop. After the fire that had destroyed a collection of memories, her maternal grandfather had dedicated himself to collecting photos and recordings from friends and relatives. Fortunately, her mother had a large family, and after a year, they were able to replace most of the photographs.
But the videos were harder to come by. Eden’s mother was the youngest of six. She followed in the footsteps of her older siblings, all successful in their chosen sport. By the time it was her turn in the spotlight, there were fewer photos and videos.
They had this one though. One of her uncles had uploaded it to the website so that it would always be there.
She entered the memorized keywords to find the video.
Taken from a distance, eighteen-year-old Emily Collins walked to the seat behind the sixth block of a long course pool. She pushed a loose hair up into her swimming cap then reached for her earlobe. Eden smiled when her grandfather’s voice came on. “There she goes! Come on, Em!”
Her mother finished fourth but took a second off her personal best. Her raised fist was in celebration as were the recorded cheers of her parents. No one would have thought then that in four years, Eden’s grandfather would refuse to have any further contact with his youngest child because she had eloped with a young Korean-American who didn’t go to church.
Mano was right. She had learned to keep her swimming life away from everyone. Initially, out of necessity. Busy parents whose schedules weren’t flexible enough to allow them to be there conditioned her not to look for them in a sea of faces. Then the return to the pool was an escape. She didn’t want to let anyone in.
But Aidan wanted in.
She stared at the frozen image of her mother’s smile, a woman she only knew through the memories of others. She’d talk to Brandon tomorrow.
She returned to the pool on Monday. Tommy barely gave her ankle brace a second glance when she approached the pool. They quickly went over her goals for the morning set. She had arrived alone after waking up to a message from Jordan saying that he’d see her at the pool. The reason for his absence became apparent when he arrived hand in hand with Ashley, her satisfied smile suggesting that she had gained the prize she had sought since joining the club.
Eden’s work week was going to be busier and longer than usual with Sarah out sick. She stepped in to chase paperwork, follow up with student-athletes on academic probation, and start planning recruitment trips for a handful of coaches. Then there was the email from Aidan’s geography teacher. Two zeros already, which pushed his grade down to a D.
Time. She needed more time.
By the end of the week, she gave up on her high protein diet and indulged in a pizza and soda from the cafeteria. She had just sat down under her favorite tree when she spotted Mano’s distinctive body walking out of the building. Carter Holmes—the source of much of Robert Pak’s ire la
st Saturday—was listening intently to whatever it was. Hand gesticulations suggested Carter had a lot on his mind. Mano rested a hand on Carter’s shoulder, and whatever he said next seemed to relax the youth visibly. He gave Carter a pat on the back then watched the athlete walk away.
He turned suddenly, and their eyes met.
She silently cursed her light skin, knowing her cheeks were probably a deep crimson in response to his attention. But she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t see him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she waved him over. He looked surprised but moved toward her nonetheless.
“Her tree” was part of a grove of beech trees planted on gentle mounds. They formed a guard for a path that led to a small meditation garden that seemed never to have anyone in it. The grove provided enough shade to protect her from hot afternoons while none of the nearby buildings cast long enough shadows to make Fall afternoons too cool to sit outside.
“Hey! How are you?” she asked, scooting over even though there was no one else near them and plenty of space on the grassy area.
Mano sat close. His clean, fresh scent surprised her. “Could be better.”
“Holmes?”
He gave her a side-glance as he opened a brown paper bag. “Yes, very perceptive. Brett gave him a bit of a dressing-down after last Saturday’s performance. Came to me asking for advice.”
“Sounds like you’d be the right guy for him to ask.”
“I’m not sure. This position was supposed to be a simple consulting job. Just share my observations about possible areas to improve.” He paused, and she guessed at the reason behind the hesitancy.
“I’m not on the clock right now,” she said. “Sealed lips. Promise. Between friends. Alistair will never know you said anything.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the smile he gave her, a genuine smile. With teeth. “I appreciate the reassurance. But there’s nothing I’m going to tell you that Alistair doesn’t know. Brett doesn’t trust me. It’s as simple as that.”
Always and Forever: Rugby Brothers, Book 3 Page 12