As practices dragged on, players occasionally stopped by for ice or scissors to remove tape from a sore body part, but for the most part Seneca was free to let her mind wander. As usual, her thoughts headed straight to Dylan. It had been almost a month since they had kissed, but the memory still made her lips burn and her heart race. Although they had gone out together a few times a week since then, they hadn’t shared another kiss. Seneca cared about Dylan way too much to screw things up, and she worried that heading that direction meant an inevitable screw-up on her part. Then there was the old-fashioned courting idea, which Dylan seemed to want, and Seneca knew nothing about, not to mention the whole issue with sex. Just thinking about it made her queasy. It was easier to move excruciatingly slowly than face too many demons at once.
She had finally confessed the kiss, after much prodding from Lisa, over Thanksgiving dinner. She didn’t know if now, without a follow-up, she should be worried. It had been so spur-of-the-moment, but Dylan hadn’t tried again. God knew Seneca wanted to try again, even if fear held her at bay. It had been bliss, and she knew it could be even better.
She jumped slightly as her radio crackled to life.
“Kate, there’s something wrong with your student,” Jane, the athletic director, said over the radio, only a hint of laughter in her tone.
Seneca sat up straighter on the cart, looking around sheepishly, not sure if she was about to be reprimanded for her leisurely positioning.
“Oh, is that so?” Kate asked, seeming unconcerned with Jane’s assertion.
“Indeed. That kid is smiling like a goof in that golf cart on the hill. I think she must be running a fever or something.”
Seneca started laughing, realizing that they were pulling her leg. It was true she didn’t smile much, and the few times she had interacted with Jane she had been too nervous to say anything. Besides, she was smiling like a goof.
“I am not,” she said, trying to save some of her dignity.
Laughter from both Jane and Kate assaulted her from the radio. Obviously, they were together, using the same one.
“How can you see me from way down there anyway?”
“Jane just walked by the field house and saw you up there grinning from ear to ear,” Kate said. “Hey, you got plans tonight?”
It wasn’t their normal weekly dinner night, but Dylan was busy working on a project so Seneca was free.
“Nope.”
“Mind staying late? I’ve got something I want to teach you,” Kate said cryptically.
Seneca was intrigued. Kate never shared more than she felt she needed to, and it took forever to get something out of her, so Seneca didn’t bother. She would find out after work. “Sure, I got time.”
“Good. Are practices done yet? You know how I feel about being down here by myself,” Kate said, almost whining.
Seneca laughed. “Soon, soccer’s just finishing up.”
“You know where to find me.”
An hour later, they were finally done with tennis. The number one singles match had dragged on long after everyone else had finished. The two women went through more tiebreaks for the final point than Seneca had needed to witness. Kate had almost run on the court to end it herself. Four hours of tennis made her want to start lobbing balls at the players, or shouting obscenities at the moment of serve, anything to get the pace moving.
Seneca followed Kate back to the gym, and they both dumped their equipment in the training room. Kate tossed Seneca a pair of gym pants and a T-shirt and pointed her toward the bathroom to change. Once Kate was similarly attired, they headed upstairs. Seneca had no idea why she was in gym clothes or what Kate had in mind, but she was content to walk in blind. She trusted Kate.
They stepped off the elevator on the top level of the athletic building, and Kate let them into a large room dominated by a rock-climbing structure that covered one long tall wall.
“Are we doing that?” Seneca asked in disbelief, not thinking her leg would handle climbing two feet, much less to the top.
“Nah,” Kate said, “I’m scared of heights.”
She rummaged through her gym bag and pulled out a pair of boxing gloves and hand wraps for herself and another pair for Seneca. She tossed them to Seneca and then went to the closet and pulled out an eighty-pound heavy bag. She attached it to the waiting stand and turned to look at Seneca, excitement and question in her eyes.
“You interested?”
Seneca looked down at the boxing gloves, not at all sure how she felt about holding instruments of violence. Her fists had never been the ones doing the punching, and she didn’t know how she felt about the opportunity.
Kate seemed to sense her hesitation and perhaps the reason behind it.
“It’s a great workout, Sen, and you said you wanted to start back at the gym. This is better and will be good for your leg too. Besides, every butch girl should be able to box. Makes you feel powerful, like you can defend what is yours and protect your woman.”
“That sounds a little caveman, Kate,” Seneca said. It was sort of appealing though. It would be good to feel she had the power to defend herself. No one had ever thought her capable. She thought of the first dance she shared with Dylan and how she had run out when she was jostled. It was tiring always being scared in a crowd, and if this could help then it might be worth giving it a shot. She just wasn’t sure today was the day to take a flier.
“Can you explain it to me first, and maybe we can try it out after that?” Seneca asked.
Kate explained some of the intricacies of boxing and why she loved it so much. She made sure to highlight that they wouldn’t be hitting each other, which Seneca was relieved about.
“Do you want me to show you?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Seneca thought it might help to watch Kate do it first. She didn’t know why the idea of hitting the heavy bag and getting the kind of workout Kate described was scaring her.
Kate showed her how to wrap her hands and helped her into the gloves.
“These gloves and wraps I borrowed from a friend, but we can get you your own if you like it enough. I come up here almost every day, so we can work out together if you want.”
Seneca looked at Kate, impressed. She’d had no idea and felt honored to be invited to share.
Kate stretched her arms a bit and moved in front of the heavy bag. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet and shifted her weight easily from one foot to the other. She looked like she was dancing. Seneca watched as Kate lifted her hands in front of her face, keeping her gloves in protect mode. A knot formed in Seneca’s stomach. Kate reached one hand out gently and tapped the heavy bag, judging distance, her feet constantly moving. Seneca felt bile rise in her throat. Kate unleashed a rapid three-punch combination, striking the heavy bag with accuracy and tremendous power. Seneca felt her airway constrict, and panic begin to set in. Her stomach churned, and she ripped the gloves from her hands. She made it to the trash can across the room before she threw up.
She sank to the floor next to the trash can and covered her head with her hands. Shame replaced panic. Even though Kate made plenty of noise to let her know she was coming, she still jumped when she sat down next to her.
“Seneca, what happened, kiddo?” Kate asked.
“I’m sorry, Kate.” She hated that she had just ruined an amazing gift Kate had tried to give her. “I’ve, um, been punched before.” Seneca couldn’t explain more than that. “I thought it would be okay, but I couldn’t handle seeing you hitting that thing.”
Kate wound a finger under Seneca’s chin, gently encouraging her to look up. She did. She didn’t want to look Kate in the eye, but she always wanted Kate to tell her it was going to be okay. The look on Kate’s face said all that and more. Seneca hugged her. She held on for a long time and Kate held her tightly in return, saying nothing. When they parted, Seneca felt better.
“I really do want my leg to get stronger. You said boxers do all kinds of workouts. Are there other things we c
ould do that don’t involve hitting things?”
Kate nodded. “If you’re up for it. Why don’t you go grab some water and I’ll get us set up?”
When Seneca returned after washing out her mouth and drinking some water, Kate had put away the heavy bag and pulled out two gym mats, some free weights, a few exercise bands, and she had strung a rope across a ten-foot span about chest height.
Kate explained the stations: push-ups and sit-ups, simulated punching with the free weights, hooks with the exercise bands, and diagonal shuffle steps with a squat to get under the rope. The last one was the one Seneca would have the most trouble with physically. Kate knew it, Seneca knew it, but they both left it unspoken. They’d modify if needed.
Seneca found the workout challenging but invigorating. She hadn’t pushed her body like this in years and was excited to feel powerful, even in a very small way. She could barely get under the rope, but she used her good leg to do most of the work and at least bent the balky one. Her arms felt like wet noodles when Kate called an end to their workout.
“I think that’s probably good for day one,” Kate said. “You did great, kiddo. How did everything feel?”
“What time is it? I’ve got to tell Dylan about this!” Seneca wanted to share her new triumph with Bob.
“About seven thirty I think,” Kate said. “I’ll take that to mean you enjoyed yourself?”
“Of course,” Seneca said. She figured Kate could see that. “Bob’s probably still at that stupid project meeting. Don’t understand why they can’t just do it by e-mail.”
“You’re really over the moon about this girl aren’t you?” Kate asked.
Seneca debated the merits of telling the truth. The truth scared her, a lot, but she didn’t know if she wanted to avoid the question. Kate made it possible for her to share her feelings and her fears safely, and Seneca did have a few Dylan-related questions.
“How do I know if I am?” she asked finally, sliding down the wall into a sitting position. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone, so I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like.”
“I think you might know all there is to know already,” Kate said gently, sliding down the wall next to her.
“I don’t know what to do.” Seneca didn’t know how to admit her insecurities or her inexperience to Kate.
“I’m going to have to assume you aren’t asking for my advice in the bedroom. Because I’ve been with the same woman since the Jurassic Age, and the rumors about you that have trickled my way are enough to make Hank blush.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Seneca was horrified.
“Hey, kiddo, if people were saying that stuff about me, I would be taking out full page newspaper ads, erecting monuments to myself, and doing whatever was necessary to make billboards happen.”
Seneca wasn’t convinced.
“I’m just saying, walk proud, my young friend.”
“You’re ridiculous. But that isn’t the kind of advice I was hoping for. I’m no good for her. She is beautiful and smart and worldly. She’s literally been around the world. She deserves someone better than me. I mean look at me, I’m damaged…I’ve got secrets and demons and I can’t make it through the night without waking up screaming. I can’t even watch you hit a stupid heavy bag without freaking out. I’m…broken.”
If it had been possible, Seneca would have melted into the floor. What in the world had prompted her to unload all of that on Kate? It was true, and it was how she felt, but she never imagined she would say it out loud to another human being. She had spent too many years alone, fighting for survival, to trust easily, but here she was, laying out her greatest fears to her boss.
“How did your leg feel during our workout?” Kate asked, seemingly straying off topic.
Seneca was relieved that Kate was apparently going to let her off the hook. She was, however, a little hurt that Kate didn’t even want to address the issues she had broached. Was she so messed up that Kate didn’t want to talk about it?
Seneca tried to shift gears and remember if she had felt any more pain than usual during her workout. “Actually, it felt pretty good. Only going under the rope hurt. I felt it then. I was having too much fun to notice any other time I think.”
“Do you think someone watching your workout would have been able to tell you have a bad leg?” Kate asked.
In the months they had worked together, Seneca had come to understand Kate’s habit of asking questions that didn’t seem to make sense and eventually getting to a meaningful point. Maybe Kate was going to answer her fears about Dylan after all.
“I don’t know. Maybe not, it’s hard to tell. I think they probably would have noticed all the weird stuff we were doing first.”
Kate nodded as if that were the conclusion she had come to as well.
“I would imagine they would see you punching the air holding dumbbells and trying to duck under a rope first too. Everyone sees a situation differently. One person sees damage, others might see survival, growth, or a challenge met and overcome. Sometimes people just see the workout, sometimes they see the boxer.”
Seneca digested that for a while. She looked at Kate thoughtfully, and realized Kate was only partially with her; another part of her was far away, likely drifting with her own experiences and memories.
“So you’re saying that other people might not see me as damaged?” Seneca asked cautiously. Sometimes the problem with talking to Kate was that she never knew if they were talking about the same thing.
“I’m saying it’s unfair of you to force Dylan to see you how you see yourself. I haven’t met her, but if you’re smitten with her, she must be amazing. Why not let her show you what she sees when she looks at you?”
Kate focused on Seneca completely for the first time since they had started talking and Seneca was surprised by what she saw. It was as if Kate was letting her see, for the first time, the woman Kate saw when she looked at Seneca. She saw respect, admiration, caring, and love in Kate’s eyes, and she didn’t know what to say. She knew then that Kate was giving her a great gift. Kate was showing Seneca a path toward getting her life back. All she had to do was believe in the woman Kate saw in her. Maybe Dylan saw that woman too. It was the strangest thought that had ever crossed her mind, and yet, she felt a little silly for not ever thinking it before.
Seneca didn’t say anything for a while, contemplating her options, options that until a few moments ago she didn’t know she had. It did seem unfair to both Dylan and herself to cut off the chance of a relationship before it happened. She hadn’t been aware she was doing it, but what Kate said made sense. It wasn’t up to her to tell Dylan how to think or feel. The world of new options felt a bit overwhelming.
“May I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer,” Kate said.
Seneca tensed slightly. The way Kate asked, the tone of her voice put Seneca on guard, but she nodded anyway.
“What happened to your leg?” Kate asked quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you when we workout and, well, I’d like to know.”
Seneca only hesitated a moment. If Kate had only been asking because of the workout, she might not have answered. The honest question, however, swayed her. Most people made up excuses to find out what happened, not because they really cared, but out of morbid curiosity and to feed the gossips. But Kate had done no such thing. She hadn’t insisted on knowing the moment they started working together, and she probably could have, given the physical nature of what they did. Seneca didn’t feel the need to hide that truth from her, and she probably owed it to her.
“A few years ago I was shot. Once in the leg, and twice in the abdomen.”
Kate opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. Instead, she rubbed Seneca’s stubby hair, kissed her gently on the forehead, and slowly pulled them both up.
Dumbfounded didn’t begin to explain how Seneca felt at Kate’s reaction to her shocking news. Awestruck, perhaps, was a better description. She had told a few o
ther people that she had been shot, but usually it was to scare them into leaving her alone. Kate hadn’t shied away, hadn’t tried to mutter some clichéd sympathy, or babble on about the past and how we all had to look to the future. Seneca knew Kate was uncomfortable with her admission, but Seneca was as well. It was natural to be upset by that kind of news.
“Not even a follow-up question?” Seneca asked with a shaky laugh.
“Would you like me to ask you one?”
“Not really,” Seneca said, relieved.
“Cause I could think of one, but I don’t think there’s a good one after that, and you don’t look like you’re in a talking mood.”
As they stood up, Seneca leaned in for a hug, wanting to be close to Kate and thank her for her reaction. A hug was the only way she knew how. And even that was a hell of a long way from when she’d started working for Kate not so long ago.
“So,” Kate said after a moment, a hint of mischief in her voice, “have you decided what to do with your beautiful Dylan?”
Seneca laughed at the change in subject, happy for the chance to move away from the emotional exchange they had just shared. The topic of Dylan was always welcome.
“In fact, I have,” Seneca said, gathering the hand wraps and boxing gloves and giving them to Kate. “I’m going to kiss her for as long as she lets me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dylan tapped her pencil against the binder balanced on her lap and tried to engage in the conversation happening around her. Her study group, four other French students and herself, were all gathered in her small dorm room, talking about the project due at the end of the semester. She loved her French class and was even excited about this project, but right now she didn’t want to be trapped in her room with these women.
What she really wanted to be doing was sitting across the table at the ice cream shop with Seneca, or walking hand in hand across campus with her. The quickest flicker of Seneca’s face could send Dylan’s heart racing and give her goose bumps.
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