by Karina Bliss
Viv realized she hadn’t told him the outcome of her visit with Merry yet. That he hadn’t asked. She gave herself a shake. This apprehension had nothing to do with Ross, it was all about her. Merry’s rousing call to action still rang in her ears and she hadn’t yet decided what to do about it.
“Isn’t Tilly going on?” she asked as the kids ran onto the field, leaving her niece on the sidelines.
“We’ll try and get some goals on the scoreboard first.” Ross hooked the whistle around his neck, gave her the stopwatch to time-keep. “She’s cool with it.”
Tilly was retying the laces on her boot and Viv couldn’t see her face.
“Okay.” She hesitated. “Just to tell you,” she said in a voice too low for the kids to hear, “I sorted things out with Merry and she’ll tell Charlie. And she and I…Ross…we’re okay again.”
“That’s great,” he said. “Start the stopwatch when I signal you from the pitch.” Their eyes met and Viv’s blood froze at his indifference. Good or bad they always had a connection. Now it was like looking into a black hole.
“I should get onto the field,” he added. “The other coach is tapping his watch.”
“Sure.” Viv folded her arms, so shocked she barely registered what was happening on the field until Tilly tugged on her sleeve.
“Shouldn’t I be going on now?”
Dazed, Viv checked on Harry, now absorbed in unraveling one of the bandages from the first aid kit, then her stopwatch. Six minutes in. “What’s the score?”
“Five-three to them…that guy’s gonna be too good. They need me.”
Even in her confusion, Viv smiled at her niece’s un-shakeable confidence. Truth was, Tilly was a lousy player and probably only in this grade because Merry was the only parent willing to coach.
“Ross has probably lost track of time.” Viv waited for a gap in play. “Sub, Ref?”
He looked over and held up three fingers. “Three minutes,” Viv told her niece.
At two minutes, the Small-Stars scored. Tilly was hopping from one foot to the other, more and more anxious. Viv called out again. “Sub, Ref.”
Ross lifted his hands in a time-out and limped over. “Do you want us to win, Til?”
“Yeah.”
“We stand a chance if we keep the best players on. How do you feel about staying off today?”
Viv’s stomach plummeted. “What are you doing?”
“But I’m one of the best,” Tilly said in confusion. The two subs behind her sniggered and she faltered. She looked at her uncle with her heart in her eyes. “Aren’t I?”
Viv waited for Ross to reassure her. “No, honey, you’re not,” he said. “I know it’s hard to hear but you still need to grow into your game. Right now, you’re the team’s weak link.”
Unable to believe her ears, Viv stared at him. “What are you doing?” she repeated.
Tilly stuck out that stubborn chin of hers. “I’m playing.”
Ross stared their niece down. “You can do what’s best for the team and stay off the pitch or you can be selfish and insist on playing. It’s up to you.”
“Stop this,” Viv said sharply. “You know everyone plays. You can’t leave Tilly off, she’s been looking forward to this all week.”
His face was pale, stony. “Make your choice, Tilly.”
Tilly’s mouth started to tremble. She bowed her head. “I’ll stay off,” she said in a small voice.
“You are not,” Viv said. “Ross—”
“Good girl.” He limped back onto the field.
Openmouthed, Viv stared after him, then down at Tilly who stood like a soldier in front of a firing squad, arms by her side, expression rigid, and two large tears rolling down her cheeks.
“No,” Viv said fiercely. “No, damn it. This is not right. Watch your brother.”
She strode out onto the field as Ross blew the starting whistle. Waving her arms, she yelled, “Time out, time out!”
“What the hell is this, Grand Central?” The other coach jogged onto the field, and Viv turned on him.
“If you hadn’t cheated by bringing in a nine-year-old, we wouldn’t be in this position, so wait!” He retreated to the sidelines. “Take five,” she yelled to both teams. “There are enough gummy snakes for everybody.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ross demanded.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Grabbing his arm, she swung him around so they had their backs to the intrigued spectators. “You’re the one who told me that this was all about fun, and everyone gets a turn and building the kids’ confidence and—”
“In a fair contest I’d agree with you,” he interrupted impatiently, “but it’s not a fair contest. Not with David Beckham playing.”
“What matters isn’t winning or losing, it’s about how you play the game.”
“Life doesn’t play like the manual, Viv, and the sooner Tilly learns that, the better off she’ll be.”
“Whatever kind of downer you’re on today,” she replied angrily, “doesn’t give you the right to traumatize children. Give me that whistle, I’m firing your ass. You’ve humiliated and destroyed our niece—”
“Quit being so bloody melodramatic,” he snapped.
She shoved him around to face the sidelines. “Look at her! Look at her, Ross.”
Viv didn’t glance at Tilly—she couldn’t—she watched Ross. Saw his jaw set as he struggled to remain unmoved.
“What happened to you today?” she asked, bewildered. “Tell me.”
He turned away from the spectators, rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. “I did a time trial this morning…a run. Not only did I fail, but I’ve knocked back my return to the unit—by a month at least, the doctor said. My CO will be fucking thrilled. He told me not to train. Whatever hope I had of deployment’s permanently shot. I’m screwed, Viv.”
Her heart broke for him, but he’d never forgive her for pitying him and they had a devastated little girl on the sidelines.
Ross took off the whistle. “Tell Til I’m sorry. Take over. I thought I could put a lid on this, but I can’t. I can’t.”
“Don’t walk away,” she said. “Only you can fix this with Tilly.”
“I can’t even fix myself,” he said harshly.
Viv took a deep breath. “You know your pity party is getting really old.”
“What?”
“Life’s chosen another path for you, so suck it up and quit blaming my brother and the unit for not letting you play out your revenge fantasies,” she said brutally. “Steve’s and Lee’s deaths were tragic, but using anger to fill the void left by their passing won’t solve anything. Deal with your grief, Ross.”
His gaze met hers. “Who am I if I’m not a soldier?”
She had to dig her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants not to touch him. “You’re still a soldier,” she said crisply. “It’s only your mission that’s changed. Quit serving The Iceman’s ego and serve where you’re needed. And right now, that’s here.”
He wavered.
“Tilly needs you, Ross,” she added quietly. “Follow your own advice and do what’s best for the team.”
He dug his fingers into his scalp. “Okay.”
They found the teams mingling, gummy worms doing more to reconcile them than any lecture on sportsmanship. Harry was right in the thick of it, being oohed and ahhed over by some of the girls, a rainbow smear around his clownlike mouth. Tilly stood apart.
“Can we start now?” the other coach called sarcastically as they approached, shooing his team onto the field. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Five more minutes,” Ross said, and gestured the Small-Stars into a huddle. Tilly stayed where she was. “Guys, I had some bad news this morning,” he said, “and I took it out on Tilly and I want to apologize to her in front of you all. She’s got guts and heart and even though she’s willing to step aside, I’m not letting her. In this team everyone has a place and we encourage each other first and worry about w
inning second. Are you all with me?”
The children broke into a chorus of enthusiastic yeahs. “Everyone on the pitch…Neil, you come off for Tilly.”
Their niece shook her head. “I don’t want to play if I’m not any good,” she said.
“You are good,” said Ross. “Terrific for a seven-year-old. I’m so sorry, honey, please go on.”
“No. I don’t want to be the weak link.” She looked down at her boots. “I don’t want to be a loser,” she whispered.
Ross wasn’t going to be able to repair this. Viv swallowed hard.
Stretching out his left leg, Ross sat down on the damp grass to bring himself closer to their niece’s level. “You have a skill no one else has,” he said. “But you won’t like it.”
Tilly shot him a sidelong glance. “What?” she asked sullenly.
“It’s not a glory job but I need a defender,” he said. “Defense takes a special person. Someone stubborn and persistent, who can work against great odds.” Viv recognized a phrase from Ross’s SAS DVD.
Tilly said nothing—too scared now of being hurt again—but Viv could tell she was intrigued.
“See that Blondie kid?” Ross pointed. “He’s scoring all the goals because no one’s marking him. I need someone who’ll make it hard for him to get to the ball.”
Tilly eyed the much taller bigger boy. “And you think I can do it?” she said doubtfully.
“You’re Attila,” said Ross as though that explained everything. And actually it did.
Tilly looked thoughtful. “You stick to him like glue,” Ross continued. “Forget about trying to get the ball. Don’t even watch the ball. You watch him and you stay with him. When he gets mad, pretend you don’t hear. Will you do that for me?”
The little girl’s chin lifted and she rubbed her eyes. “Yes,” she said. Ross gave her the ball and she ran onto the field to join the others.
Genius, the man was a genius, and Viv finally acknowledged that she loved him. Completely, irrevocably and for always. Loved him. God help her.
Ross held out his hand and she helped him up, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms and beg him to love her back.
Chapter Twenty-one
Ross handed Viv the whistle. “You’ll have to take over as ref, Meredith. My leg’s not up to any more running and we’re not letting the other coach ref again. If you get stuck, I’ll cue you.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
As Viv marched off, Ross turned to the three subs. “You guys are the support crew,” he said. “I want you to run up and down the sidelines yelling encouragement when it’s needed.”
Their faces brightened and they tore off. Briefly, Ross closed his eyes. God, that was close. For a moment he thought he’d lost Tilly for good. If that had been on his conscience… Ross shuddered. The whistle sounded and with a glance at Harry, who was stacking the soccer cones, he refocused on the pitch. Viv needed his eyes.
He found himself drawn into the game, yelling instructions where needed. Cameron managed a successful header, equalizing the score.
Back and forth the ball went, from one goal area to the other, possession equally divided now that Tilly was marking their star out of the game. Scowling, the older kid tried everything to shake her—feinting, ducking and sprinting down the sideline. But Attila chased him down. Ross grinned.
A pass meant for Blondie bounced off her calves. His scowl darkened and the boy stopped in the opposition’s goal area to snarl something at Tilly. He towered over her by at least six inches. About to intervene, Ross saw his niece’s eyes turn flinty and prayed she didn’t deck the kid. Blondie’s goalie drifted forward to listen to the argument.
Ross glanced at his watch…one minute to go. They might just get a draw out of this.
Midfield the ball deflected off an opposition player and soared toward the Small-Stars goal. Seeing the danger, Blondie stopped arguing with Tilly and ran forward to intercept. His goalie scampered back to defend. By the time Blondie regained control of the ball, Tilly was in his face again, two feet in front of him. He kicked the ball as hard as he could toward his goal line—straight at her.
Tilly scrunched her eyes closed and stood her ground. The ball smacked her square in the forehead and rebounded forward into the Small-Stars goal, taking the other team’s goalie completely by surprise. Hell, it took everybody by surprise, including the scorer.
“Does that count?” Viv yelled, but the kids were already answering, screaming in excitement while Tilly stood astonished, a big red circle forming on her forehead. A grin split the girl’s face.
“I scored!” she hollered. “I scored the winning goal!”
Choking up with pride, Ross wondered how one of the worst days of his life could hold one of his best moments. “Cycle of life, buddy,” he told Harry, who—perplexed by all the screeching—had drawn closer to his uncle.
Tilly was going to be insufferable tonight.
She came running over. “Did you see me, Uncle Ross, did you see me do that header?”
He laughed. Is that what you called it? “Yeah, honey, I saw…Meredith wants you.”
The teams lined up to shake hands, the other coach standing aside. Ross watched as Viv strode over and forced a handshake out of him, still showing the kids good sportsmanship.
If she hadn’t challenged Ross…if she’d let him walk away, the outcome would have been so different. Thank God for Viv, he thought fervently. And she was right.
It was up to the survivors to coax meaning from Lee’s and Steve’s deaths. His role was behind the scenes now, preparing other one-percenters. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was time to suck it up.
He looked at Viv and breathed deeply. It felt like the first breath in seventeen months that had oxygen in it. How could he not love this woman with her insane courage and her capacity to push him in every direction he’d resisted going…?
Hadn’t he always been a sucker for punishment?
* * *
“Meredith.”
After eight days, Viv responded easily to her sister’s name but she continued to pack the trunk because it was Ross and she needed a moment to brace herself. With the teams dispersing and Harry and Tilly strapped into the car ready to go, she was technically alone with him.
Guess it was her turn to be brave.
The trunk was full of the detritus of a soccer mom. Dirty boots, damp socks, a shin guard, a first-aid kit with Harry’s unraveled bandage bulging out of it, a plastic bag with a soiled diaper tied up securely and ready for discard, the clean diaper bag, towels, snacks, extra drink bottle, umbrellas, anoraks, sunblock—
“Viv,” Ross said quietly, and the weight he gave to her name made her heart kick like a scared rabbit’s. By acknowledging she loved him, Viv had handed this man a gun.
“Viv.” Reluctantly, she turned.
“You wanna come back to our house, Uncle Ross?” Tilly yelled through the open passenger window. “She’s gonna do her cartwheel again ’cause it’s such a big celebration.”
Oh, dear, God. A blush burned her cheeks. “Ross is probably too busy, honey.”
“You don’t want me to?” Surely that wasn’t nervousness in his voice? She eyed him warily.
“If you want to, you can come,” she ventured. “But don’t feel you have to.” She shrugged. “If you don’t want to.” She had no idea how to act around a guy she loved.
“Til?” Ross called. “Can you ask your aunt if she still likes me?”
Viv blinked. “What?”
“When a boy likes a girl and he’s too scared to ask if she likes him,” Ross said seriously, “he gets a friend to do it for him. Ask her, Attila.”
“But I already know the answer,” came the airy reply.
“I don’t,” said Ross. He hesitated. “Have I blown it, Viv?”
“Can you be more explicit?” she said cautiously.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wait for more privacy?”
; Did he intend that as a double entendre or did she just have a dirty mind?
Viv looked at him helplessly and, with an exclamation, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He’d kissed her before of course, but always with an element of self-control.
This kiss had none of that. It was even a little clumsy, as though it mattered terribly to him, as though Ross was investing everything in it. Enthralled, she wound her arms around his neck and matched his passion.
Ross jerked backward so fast he yanked her hair, which was tangled in his fingers. Viv’s eyelids flew open and she found herself staring into Charlie’s blazing eyes before he turned and slammed his fist into Ross’s stunned face. “You bastard,” he roared as Ross fell. “How long have you been sleeping with my wife?”
Charlie bent to grab Ross’s T-shirt and raised his fist again. Viv dived forward and seized her brother-in-law’s arm. “Charlie, no!”
With Viv hanging off his arm, he swung his foot toward his brother’s ribs, but Ross rolled free. “It’s not what you think, mate.”
Tilly and Harry were screaming in the car, and blood streamed from Ross’s nose as he grabbed the tow bar and hauled himself to his feet.
“And, you!” Charlie yanked his arm free of Viv’s restraining grip. “How could I have trusted you again? How…?” His voice broke. With another bellow he lunged at Ross, who wrestled his brother into a bear hug.
“Charlie,” he shouted, “she’s not Meredith, she’s Viv.” Blood from his nose splattered across the other man’s business shirt.
But Charlie was beyond hearing. With a grunt of effort he started to break out of Ross’s hold. In desperation, Viv jumped on his back, so all three were locked in a grotesque hug. “You’re terrifying the kids, Charlie,” she yelled in his ear. “Not in front of the kids.”
He stopped struggling. Viv slid off his back and nearly fell over. One hand on the car for balance, she stumbled around to the passenger door to comfort the hysterical kids, waving reassurance to other parents and kids.
“It’s okay,” she called automatically. “It’s a mistake… I’m not Meredith. Everything’s fine.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Kids, it’s okay,” she wept, wrestling the upset children out of their seat belts and soothing them with hugs. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
