by Helen Conrad
Jim's head snapped back. “Sure. I know it too. No one in swimming wants us to succeed.” His voice cracked with bitterness. “They live by the belief that only the young survive in this game. That's what they teach everyone else, and they don't want to see their rules violated by upstarts like us.”
She looked at him. “This new team that's coming in . . . ?”
He nodded. “It's Bill Pasano. He's got a couple of world-class hopefuls of his own. Seventeen-year-old girls. He wants to make sure you're out of the way.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Bottom line, it turned out he had more pull with the university than I did. He agreed to coach the women's water polo team. That clinched it.”
She looked up, grasping at straws. “Couldn't you do that?”
His mouth twisted. “They like a coach who can get in the water and mix it up.”
“Oh.” She flushed, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. “Of course.” She bit her lip and glanced at Maxie, who was hovering behind Jim's chair. “Well, we'll just have to start calling around,” she began with false cheerfulness.
“Forget it,” Jim cut in. “I've already done that. There's nothing. Not anywhere.”
Kathy was devastated. There had to be a solution. Something. Anything. This couldn't be the end of all their hard work, all their planning.
Suddenly Maxie was bustling in between them. “Come on,” she said. “Dinner is ready.”
Jim only looked annoyed. “Oh, I don't think—”
But Maxie wasn't listening. “Come along,” she said firmly, taking hold of his wheelchair and starting it toward the table. “A good meal will buck the two of you up. I won't take no for an answer now.”
She stopped him at the head of the table. “You sit here. Kathy and I will sit on either side of you.” She slipped complacently into her seat, and Kathy noticed she'd set the food out at each place already. “We'll have a nice talk. Come on, Kathy. Sit.”
Kathy sat. And ate. And Maxie kept them both entertained, talking on and on about this and that, things that had nothing to do with swimming. Kathy felt herself relax, and when she looked at Jim, he seemed better too. Good old Maxie, she thought with affection.
Dessert was lime sherbet. “Green, but not avocado,” Maxie noted. When his bowl was empty, Jim put down his spoon and looked Kathy straight in the face.
“Winning is the single-minded determination to let no obstacle stand in your way,” he said firmly, as he'd said so many times before. “We'll beat this, too. Even if it hurts to do it.”
She could tell he had something specific in mind. Did she dare start to hope again? “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. “You'll have to go to Los Angeles,” he said at last. “You'll be able to get pool space there.”
“But can you just leave your business like that?” she cried.
Slowly he shook his head. “No, Kathy. I can't.”
She gazed at him, bewildered. “Then . . .”
“We'll have to find you another coach,” he said harshly. “Can't you see that?”
“No.” Her hands went to her throat. “No, oh Jim. . . .” Without him she could never do it.
“Get serious,” he said. “Face facts. You can't swim here, and I can't go there. It's the only way.”
Kathy looked from Jim's hard face, frozen to hold back emotion, to Maxie's, filled with tears sliding down her round cheeks, and she felt detached, like an observer. How could one little thing, just losing the pool, have such devastating consequences? It didn't seem possible.
Suddenly a picture swam into her mind, a picture of a man and a woman on a sunny mountain top, pine trees swaying in the background. Jace. The longing for him began to swell in her, the need to be away from this pain and to be held in his comforting arms. Tensing herself, she slowly and methodically crushed the yearning back until she had obliterated it from her mind. Then she turned back to her friends.
“We'll do what we have to do,” she said evenly. “Whatever we have to do.”
A humorless smile crept over Jim's hard face. “Attagirl. I knew you were a winner.”
Too bad she didn't know it, she thought as she and Maxie cleared the table while Jim watched the television news.
“I just can't stand it,” Maxie whispered as they piled the plates.
Kathy glanced at her and tried to grin. “Don't worry. It'll all work out,” she said, though she hardly believed it herself.
“No.” Maxie blinked at her. “I mean, I can't stand to see him hurting this way. It just breaks my heart.”
Kathy stopped and looked out into the living room. Her head was splitting, and her mind was spinning. She'd give almost anything to get away from the others for a little while so that she could think.
“Then tell him so,” she said softly.
“What?” Maxie clutched the dishtowel to her chest. “No!”
“Jim,” Kathy called. “I'm feeling a little woozy. I think I'll go out and get some fresh air. Would you mind helping Maxie with the dishes?”
“No problem,” Jim called back.
Maxie grabbed Kathy's arm. “Don't leave me with him!” she cried.
“Why not? You work with him all day.”
“Yes, but . . . that's different.”
“That's right,” Kathy told her, grinning. “It's about time he realized it.”
She went to the hall closet to get a sweater while Jim rolled into the kitchen. She could hear the low murmur of their voices. Smiling, she put her hand on the knob and opened the front door, only to find Jace standing there, his hand raised as though he was just about to knock.
“Oh no,” she cried, hands to her face. “Not now!”
His handsome face took on a quizzical expression. “Then when?” he asked.
She dropped her hands and glared at him. “Never.”
“Oh no.” His grin was casually disarming, as usual. “You don't get away that easily. I drove all the way up from Los Angeles just to see you.”
She felt drained, exhausted. “I've just succeeded in erasing you from my mind, and now here you are, back again.” She made a movement as though to close the door on him, but he stopped it with his foot.
“Stop. Wait. I want to talk to you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You've got to go. You've got to get out of here.” She glanced nervously back into the apartment. If Jim saw Jace ... “I can't have you here.”
“Then, you come with me. For a ride. Let's talk.”
A dangerous plan, and she knew it. But it had to be done sometime. Might as well be now.
“All right,” she said reluctantly, and walked out of her apartment, closing the door on the warm, light interior and stepping into the unknown.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
Buy Me the Moon
Fall was coming. There was a nip in the air. Even in the dark they could see that the leaves were turning on the tree-lined street.
“Would you like to take my car?” Jace asked.
Kathy shook her head. “Let's walk,” she said. She needed to get rid of something angry and suppressed inside. Having Jace with her didn't help, but it was too late to do anything about that.
They were silent for a block and a half, walking briskly, not touching. They passed a house where someone was playing Chopin on the piano and doing a pretty good job of it. Jace turned and looked at her.
“Could we hold hands?” he asked, a smile in his eyes.
She glared at him. “No.”
He sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
They walked on. Jace was uneasy. He had a straightforward objective, but he didn’t want to seem like a bully. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to get his mind straight. This was new for him, this uncertainty as to what to do. He usually bulled his way forward and gained his objective. But he couldn't do that with Kathy. He couldn't risk losing her.
He was filled with unresolved conflicts and unanswered questions. He wasn't even sure just why he'd j
umped into his car and headed for Destiny Bay on a moment's notice. He only knew that when Kathy had hung up on him so angrily, he'd been compelled to go to her. And now here he was. And he was getting nowhere.
“There's a park up ahead,” he said suddenly. “Let's go sit down.”
She nodded, not speaking. He led her in among the trees until they found a bench near a lazy, S-curved pond, its water glistening like black oil in the moonlight.
She sat down willingly enough, but she stared straight ahead. He sat beside her, watching her, wishing he knew how to get through to her, wishing he knew why it was so vital that he do just that.
“Kathy.” He said her name and suddenly he had to touch her, his hand going to her hair, wishing he had the nerve to pull the band from it and watch it cascade down her back the way it had in the mountains.
She turned her huge gray eyes to regard him warily but she didn't push his hand away.
“I feel like a man with two left feet, pursuing a butterfly,” he said softly. “Help me out here. Give me a break.”
She avoided his deep, dark blue eyes. “I don't know what you mean,” she said stiffly.
But his hand slid behind her neck, and then he was close, much too close, and she was trembling, but she couldn't pull away.
“Kathy.” His voice was low and resonant. His free hand went to her face, and his index finger stroked her cheek. “I've missed you,” he whispered, and she could have sworn there was a catch in his voice. “So much.”
His kiss was a stroking, coaxing sensation of heat, and she couldn't resist it. His mouth moved on hers, and she felt as though brandy had been poured down her throat. Her eyes closed, and she swayed against him, reaching out with her hands, her fingers curling into the thickness of his jacket.
“Oh, Kathy,” he sighed, his cheek against hers. “You feel like heaven. Don't try to pretend you don't like it.”
“I never pretended not to like it,” she muttered hoarsely, her eyes still closed. “I'm only trying not to be drowned by it.”
His hands took her face, tilting it up toward his. “You've got to explain to me, tell me why your comeback is so important to you. Why you're ready to throw away this thing we could have together for a swim meet seven months away.”
She opened her eyes and held his gaze. “You don't need to know anything at all. You're not a part of my life.” She said it as though it was emblazoned on a banner to be held before her, a battle cry, a defense.
His hands tightened on her, and his gaze grew fierce. “I'm going to be, Kathy. You're part of mine, no matter how much I try to make it not so.” His voice lowered with emotion. “I can't let you walk out on me. I can't just let this feeling go.”
He drew his hands away and turned so that she couldn't fully see his face. “Something. . . something about you has brought me back to life. I was dead when I met you. I was going through the motions. And then you took me home and pretended to be my wife, and . . . and I came alive again. I can't just walk away from that.”
He turned back to face her. “Make me understand,” he said, the intensity of his feelings hitting her like a slap.
She swallowed, touched by what he'd said, thrilled in fact. She remembered that first night, the letter she'd read, his anguish over losing his child. Was he anguished over losing the wife too? She doubted it, after what he'd told her about Beverly. But still, it hurt when a relationship broke up for good. And she'd taken care of him that night and he felt as though she might take care of him again. Was that it? Was she supposed to give up her dreams for that?
But that wasn't fair, and she knew it. There was more to Jace than that. Much more. Maybe she should tell him. Maybe, just maybe, he would understand.
“It's simple, really,” she said softly. “It's all about failure.”
He frowned, and she tried to smile, touching his jacket with one hand and biting her lip. It wasn't easy to talk about, even after all these years.
“You, see, I've always been a failure. I tried so hard, when I was young, to do things to make my family…well, proud of me. No matter what I did, it was never enough. They never…” Her voice choked and she frowned, fiercely determined not to cry. She hated to sound so self-pitying, but when you came right down to it, that was exactly what she was. Only, she was working hard to blot it out, wasn’t she?
“My father is a heart specialist. He saves lives all the time. My mother is an internationally known poet. She was nominated for a Pulitzer one year.” She shrugged. “And I’m pretty much nobody, outside of swimming. The fact is, as far as my family goes, I might as well be invisible.” She gazed up into his eyes to see if he could possibly understand.
His arm slid around her shoulders, and he drew her close to him, looking down, but not saying a word.
She started to go on, but her voice choked, and she looked up again, suddenly losing the distance she'd managed up until then. “But why did they bother to have kids if they didn't really care what happened to them?” she cried, knowing it was a question without an answer, but asking it anyway.
“I know they loved you,” he began, but she laughed bitterly. “Sure, sure. Big deal. They loved me and my sister and my brother, and what good did it do us?”
She steadied her voice. “My brother and sister both had their problems too, both resented the way our parents treated us. They acted out. I went the opposite route. I tried hard to be a top student, but that didn’t really work out. So I tried even harder to be a top swimmer, and for awhile, that did work.”
She tried to smile and failed. “And they still didn't care.” She took a deep breath. “Until I got so good I was going to international meets and breaking records,” she said, remembering. “Suddenly, my father cared. Suddenly, it was all because of him that I was so successful. He bragged about it everywhere and even came to a few swim meets now and then. Suddenly, I was worth the effort.”
She swallowed hard again, forcing back tears. She wouldn't cry. This was old news. She was just trying to explain to Jace, and there was no reason to let it get to her like this. No reason at all.
“So I failed at the Olympics, and…and my father turned his back on me.”
He was silent, aching, not sure how best he could comfort her, so he just held her against him, his face in her hair.
“That hurt,” she admitted. “So I married Greg. That was going to take care of providing a family for me. Only”—she sighed— “I failed at that, too. Left to my own devices, I decided to start my own business, and at first we did pretty well. But the great business that we did only proved to a large chain how lucrative our location could be, so they opened a branch right across the street. Lower rates. Longer business hours. Prizes and incentives. All sorts of competitive gimmicks I couldn't afford to match.” She shrugged. “We went belly-up. I failed again.”
She could feel his breath in her hair, and it soothed her. His body was so large, so hard, so real. She was steady again. These latter-day failures were painful, but they didn't quite carry the emotional baggage of the earlier ones. She could handle talking about them much more easily.
“I was a mess. A total and complete failure. I even failed at doing the bookkeeping in the little company I worked for next. I got fired. When Jim and I started talking, I was just about at rock bottom. He'd been paying attention to my career, so he knew what my potential had been in the old days, how I screwed it up.” Her grin was wobbly as she remembered. “I was rotten to him at first. I saw him as a symbol of that old life I didn't want to think about. But once he began to tell me about his theories, about how he believed an older swimmer could make a comeback, I started to get excited. I saw right away how I could fit into that. After all, I didn't have any family, any real career, any commitments to get in the way. I was free.”
She turned and looked up into his face again, her eyes shining earnestly. “Maybe . . . just maybe ... I could go back and erase some of those failures. And become . . . somebody people might pay some attention to.”
>
He understood what she was saying, but somehow he wasn't sure he understood what she was feeling. “I'll pay attention to you. I'm paying attention to you right now.”
A shadow of disappointment crossed her face. He still didn't really get it. “Yes. But how long will that last?”
He touched her chin with his thumb. “You don't trust me, do you?”
“No. I don't trust anybody but myself. And I know I can do it.”
He shook his head, frowning, but smiling at the same time. “I'm behind you. I want to be there with you.”
She drew back. “I don't know if I can trust you that much.”
“Try it.”
She searched his gaze. Did he realize how much she longed to do just that? But she couldn't. This was her fight. She didn't dare let anyone else shoulder part of it. And yet, she couldn't deny how much she wanted him here, wanted his arms around her. It was heaven. Pure heaven.
She smiled into his handsome face. “Oh well.” She tried for a breezy tone and failed miserably. “This whole discussion may be moot. We've lost our pool.”
“What?”
“It's gone. And there isn't another place. We've tried everything. Jim's talking about sending me to L.A. to another coach.” She blinked rapidly. “I . . . I don't know if that will work. But we have to do what we have to do.”
Jace stared at her. If they really couldn't train, she would be through with this madness. On the other hand, if she went to L.A., she would be right where he could keep an eye on her. Interesting thought.
“I've got to get back,” she said, rising from the bench. “They'll wonder what's happened to me.”
He rose beside her, and this time he took her hand in his without waiting for permission. They walked back more slowly than they'd come, and when they got to her door, he drew her into his arms and kissed her hard before releasing her.
