Jess has been great today. She’s taken over my workload in the office. Dealt with all tasks efficiently, as she always does. I’ve been useless. I’m here, but I’m not. My mind has been filled with fog and hazy thoughts all day.
“Well, we’ve had other things going on, but now you ask.” She lifts her hand, showing me the stunning diamond ring that now graces her left hand. It’s truly exquisite. A square diamond set on a platinum band with smaller diamonds on the shoulders. Fletcher Adams has impeccable taste, for a man. “Do you like?” Jess asks, smiling proudly.
“It’s perfect. Have you two thought about a date?”
“Yes. I’m not getting a say in the matter, not that I’m complaining. The end of the football season.”
“Wow! So we only have about seven-ish months to plan.” It’s not impossible. If I know Jess as well as I think I do, she won’t want an extravagant affair. No, something more low key.
Shit. I’ll have just had the baby, so I’ll still be fat. Great.
“Yes. But let’s not rush in. I want my best friend feeling well before we start planning and shopping.”
“Okay,” I say flatly, my tone as low as my mood.
“Come on. Let’s get us both a drink of tea, and what do you want to do about dinner?”
“Nothing.”
“Lee, you can’t not eat. It’s not good for either of you.”
“I’m really tired. I just want to sleep, but I should also think about going to see Mum and Dad and telling them. If I spend too much time thinking about it I’m going to send myself stir crazy thinking about how disappointed they’re going to be with me. You know my mum. She is a strong believer in at least being in a relationship with someone. She’d prefer a couple to be married before having a baby.”
“Look, you can’t worry about this. If you want to go and see them tonight, go. I can be here whenever you need me, you know that.”
“I know. I should go and see them, but I think I’ll grab a shower first. Maybe it will help me to feel better.”
“I’ll go home then, if you don’t need me. Remember to call me when you get home. If you want to take tomorrow off, I’ll cope.”
“Yeah, I might do that. I have a lot to think about.”
Jess hands me the mail and steps closer to me, pulling me into her arms. I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I have to be strong. I step out of her arms and kiss her cheek. “Go. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” I sense her reluctance as she turns her back and walks away.
Now, do I do what I said I would do and go to my parents’, or do I just go to bed?
No. I need to do this before word gets out. I can’t have my parents reading about this in the papers. God, my mum wouldn’t be happy about that. I know Jess and Fran won’t breathe a word to anyone, but I can’t say the same about Logan.
And there he is, back in the forefront of my mind. In all fairness, he’s not been far away in my thoughts. Always lingering. He’s here in my head. His familiar voice teasing me. I’ve tortured myself with flashbacks of our times together since I last saw him. Like the night I spent at his apartment; that was the one time I remember him holding me in his arms after sex. It was soothing and I believe it’s what gave me hope for more with him.
I’m terrified of doing this on my own, but if I have to, I’ll find the strength from somewhere. But I don’t want my baby to grow up without a dad. Logan and I will need to talk at some point. Although, when will be up to him.
I shake my head at my chain of thoughts. Time to get my act together.
The drive to my parents’ dragged by. It should only take ten minutes, but not tonight. It’s been double that. I fought with myself as I was stuck in traffic not to turn around and go home. Tears have threatened to break on more than one occasion as I think of what my parents are going to say. I’m sure my dad will be more supportive than my mum because that’s just how he is. Complete opposites, but they do say opposites attract and they’ve been married almost thirty years.
With little energy, I get out of the car and head up the path to the front door. This house has some amazing memories for me. I’d like to think I’ll create lots of happy memories for my own bundle of joy.
The front door swings open and my mum stands before me. “Why didn’t you call, sweetheart? I would’ve put on extra for dinner. But don’t worry, I’ll make it work.”
“It’s fine. I just thought I’d pop over and see you.”
“Nonsense, you need to eat. You look as though you’ve lost weight.” Not for long. I’m sure I’ll start putting it on soon enough. “Now, come on through. Your father is in the kitchen, setting the table.”
Mum sounds so cheery. I feel bad because I know, with my revelation, I will take away her good mood. She will brand me the same as she’s branded others who find themselves in my situation, all because I wasn’t careful. She won’t care that I actually love the father of my unborn baby. All she’ll see is that I slept with someone and made a mistake.
A mistake.
But one I wouldn’t change. Because now, I’ll always have a part of Logan with me. It’s not ideal, but I’m sure that once the dust has settled, I’ll come to terms with that.
I follow behind her nervously. My dad is in the kitchen adding an extra setting for dinner. He lifts his head and smiles, completely oblivious to how I’m feeling.
I walk around the table to greet him. “What brings you by? Although, it’s always nice having you come over.” I try my best to smile but I can’t. When he pulls me into his arms, I crumble. I can’t keep myself together as my tears fall and my body jerks with each loud sob.
Dad’s grip on me tightens. “Lee, what’s wrong?” I feel him lift his head and I’m sure my parents are having a silent conversation between themselves, wondering what the hell has their daughter so worked up.
“May, turn the gas off. Dinner can wait. Lee, come on. We’ll go into the other room.” I will my feet to move, and with my parents’ help, I walk into the living room. Mum sits me down on the sofa beside her. My dad, bless him, kneels on the floor, looking more than a little worried.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, refusing to look at Mum. Tears are still falling down my face.
Dad smiles and wipes away my tears and I hear my mum gasp. I wait for whatever she has to say, but it’s my dad’s comforting voice I hear first. “Sweetheart, is that the reason you’re so upset? A baby? There are worse things in life than a wee baby. They are a bundle of happiness and will bring you joy and tears over the years. May, tell her she shouldn’t be this upset.” It’s funny that, even under these circumstances, my dad always manages to say the right thing, making me smile.
“George, I don’t know what to say. Lee I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh!” There’s a long pause and I still can’t look at my mum. My dad sits before me, holding my hand. “It’ll be okay,” he mouths.
“I’m a little surprised. Not the news I was expecting from you.” I drop my head in shame, hating that she’s disappointed in me. “But . . . I love you, sweetheart. Yes, this might have come as a shock to me but, from the look of you, it’s a huge shock for you too. Sweetheart, you are our daughter and, no matter what, you will always have our support. I happen to think you’ll be a great mother.”
I blink rapidly then launch myself into her arms, overwhelmed.
“Oh, Lee. I’m sure you expected me to judge you but you’re my daughter and I will always love you.”
“Oh, Mum. I love you. I love you both.”
“We know that,” she says, lifting my head and looking me square in the eyes. “Now you, my beautiful girl, can go and get washed then we’ll have dinner. Then we can talk. You can tell me when my first grandbaby is due and, if you feel like talking about anything else, I’m here to listen. I’ll never judge you. You have to live your life your way.”
Dad gives me a kiss. “I have something to look forward to. I hope
it’s a grandson so I can teach him fishing and play football with him.” He leaves me with my mum and makes his way back to the kitchen.
“Football.” I laugh.
“It’s not that funny.”
“It is. You have no idea how funny.”
“Well, try me.”
“Logan Walker, Fletcher’s friend, the goal . . .”
“Yes, I know who he is.” She pauses, and frowns searching my face for the answer I bet she already has in her head. Of course she knows who he is. No doubt read all about his recent behaviour and antics over her morning coffee. “Are you two a couple?”
“No, but I love him,” I blurt out. “Can I stay here for a few days?”
“Oh sweetheart, it would seem we have a lot to talk about. And, you don’t need to ask, but what about work tomorrow?”
“Jess has told me to take some time off and I think I need it. I need to get my head around everything that’s swirling around before it makes me so dizzy that I can’t think straight.”
“Oh, my girl, I’m sure everything will work out.”
“Thank you. I’ll drop Jess a text and let her know where I’ll be.” With a kiss, she leaves me on my own.
I’m at mums. Everything went well. I’m going to stay here tonight and probably the weekend.
Jess: OK if you need me call me, but for now I’ll give you some space and time on your own because I do remember what it feels like to want both. I love you x
Me: Love you too x
Logan
ANOTHER NIGHT. ANOTHER bar.
Fletcher and Peter have been calling me almost constantly since I walked out on Thursday. Peter left a message on my phone. I fucking deserved the rollicking I got from him, even though he sounded sympathetic. I can’t help thinking about Fletcher. His first day back on Thursday and he ended up in an argument with me. I didn’t even hang around to hear what the boss had to say to him either.
I’ve not answered any of Fletcher’s calls. I’m in no mood to talk to him to have him telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. Just because his life is so damn perfect. Guilt floods me because I didn’t even offer him my congratulations on his engagement. Some friend I am.
“Another?” the barman asks, holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand. I nod and watch as he fills up my empty glass. He’d be as well leaving the bottle beside me so I can top up without disturbing him.
Peter has given me a warning, telling me to sort my shit out or there will be no game for me tomorrow. He’s trying to be patient with me. My moods are driving him mad and I know he means it when he says I have to get it together. But I don’t know how. This has thrown me completely over the edge and I don’t want to take anyone down with me. Especially not Lee.
It’s been a long time since I’ve sat in this bar, drowning my sorrows. I’m certain the last time was after I lost Nikki and the baby, but here I sit, yet again, mourning the loss of a woman and a baby.
I never wanted a baby when Nikki told me she was pregnant, but with Lee . . . it’s different. My mind has wandered off, thinking about how good we could be as a family. Because, regardless of what I tell myself, I love Lee more than life itself. That’s why I have to stay away, to give them both a fighting chance of survival.
Why did we have to be so careless? We would be together now, enjoying each other’s company. I could take her on that date I promised. Treat her right. Make her feel like a princess because she deserves no less than that.
She and I could’ve been so happy together. Why has it taken me so long to get my shit together?
Because I’m a prize arsehole.
I take a drink of whiskey and slam the empty glass down on the bar. It bangs, and I sense everyone looking at me, but I don’t look up. The barman appears and pours another. “You should make that one your last.”
“It’ll be his last.” The voice belongs to Fletch. “Logan.”
“I’ll do what I want. You can’t tell me what to do. I’m sitting here minding my own business, so if you don’t mind, I’ll carry on drinking.”
“So, sitting here drowning your sorrows is the answer to all your problems?”
“Maybe.”
The barman appears with another glass and fills it up. Fletcher takes a drink and gets his arse comfy on the bar stool beside mine. Looks like he’s staying. Oh well. I hope he can keep up.
We sit in an uncomfortable silence and I’m getting drunker with each mouthful. I’m going to be staggering out of here, but I don’t care.
“Spit it out,” I say with a snarl.
“What? You want me to tell you you’re being a prick? You want me to tell you this time is different? Because it is.” I start to protest but he doesn’t let me. “This time you are a different person. You love Lee, and it’s different to how you felt about Nikki.”
“What do you mean different?”
“You were young and foolish and probably didn’t even understand what love meant back then.”
“I don’t need to listen to your crap.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t think you’ll listen to anything anyone has to say until it’s too late and then you’ll be on your own and Lee will have built a new life for herself and the baby. Let’s face it, Lee’s a good-looking girl. She won’t stay single for long, and then what? You’ll have made your choice and will have to sit back and watch as someone else gets to play daddy to your son or daughter.”
His last words ring loudly in my head and I lunge at him. “You fucking bastard. You’re meant to be my friend.”
He stops me as the barman appears at our side of the bar. “It’s fine,” Fletcher tells him. “He’s leaving.”
Fletcher takes my arm and guides me outside where his car is parked. Jess is in the driver’s seat. Has she been here waiting? I don’t care. I stomp my feet and come to an abrupt stop. “She’s having my baby!” I yell. “I have to do what’s right and that means leaving. I can’t be around when something bad happens.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“I’m going away. Far away. Peter can make it happen.”
I can ask for a transfer. Or this time I could just walk away from football altogether. Away from my friends and family.
I’m not sure I could.
“Whatever you say. Let’s get in the car and we’ll take you home.”
I look at him through teary eyes and he knows how hard this is for me. He was there when I needed him to help me put the pieces of my life back together. I can’t ask that of him a second time. His priority has to be Jess. She’s good for him.
I need to be home and in my bed.
“Oh, how the tables have turned. Logan, get out of bed.” I hear him but I wish I didn’t. Has he stayed here all night? Or has he let himself in? Why the fuck has he still got a key to my apartment?
“Go away,” I mumble, trying to pull the covers over my head.
“No. It smells like a fucking brewery in here. The whole apartment stinks. Now, get up. It’s match day.” He pulls the covers off me and throws them across the floor.
“What the actual fuck? Adams, piss off and leave me alone.”
“Shower. Now.”
I roll over and stare at the ceiling. I would be doing the same if it was Fletcher lying here. Actually, I’ve done this on more than one occasion; dragged his sorry arse from a bed to get him to a game. “Come on.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll go shower.” I climb out of bed and Fletcher frowns at me.
“Yeah, mate. You need it.”
He’s right. I wander through to the bathroom and I hear him leave my bedroom. I could put money on him going to my kitchen and making me a strong black coffee. God knows, I need it.
I shower quickly and get ready in my training gear. I’ve got a hangover from hell, but at least I’m out of bed and dressed.
I’m dreading today.
I’ve fucked up. Didn’t show for training on Friday or yesterday. Peter is bound to be furious with me. Today, I face the
music. I wonder if Lee will come to the game with Jess. I’ve had to stop myself from calling her the last few days. Scrolling through all the messages between us had me re-living all the moments we’ve spent together.
The more I scrolled, the more I ended up drinking and the angrier I got with myself for being in this situation.
With a glance in the mirror, I leave my bedroom, looking and feeling like shit, but it’s no less than I deserve.
“Here, take this,” Fletcher says, handing me a mug of steaming black coffee. “It might help.”
“Or not, in my case. How pissed is Peter?” I ask.
“Let’s just say you’re not his favourite goalkeeper at the moment. You won’t be playing, but if you don’t show up today . . . Let’s just say he’s trying to be understanding of your circumstances. He’s trying to cut you some slack. But you will be fined a week’s wages for not showing up at training the past two days.”
As I would expect. “Why are you in training gear?”
“Because I might end up playing. He was leaving me on the bench after my few days off, but given the small fact that we’re down our number one keeper, he doesn’t want to take chances.”
I drink my coffee and we leave for me to face the music or the wrath of Peter and the rest of the players. Not only am I letting myself down, but I’m letting the team down and the fans who pay money week in week out to watch us play. I can’t help it; none of them would understand. Fletcher claims to understand. And I suppose he does to a certain extent. He’s been down on his luck like I have and we’ve both dealt with all the shit that has gone wrong in our lives. Women and drink were always our answer.
We arrive at the stadium earlier than usual. It’s still busy with fans starting to arrive, all hoping to get a glimpse of the players. When we go inside, Fletcher leads the way straight to Peter’s office. Christ, I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
Fletcher knocks on the office door and I stand fidgeting like a schoolboy. “Come in.”
Here goes. I open the door and Peter sits at his desk, arms crossed, looking at me. I enter with Fletcher behind me.
“Well, you look awful,” Peter says, urging me to sit down. Fletcher leans against the wall to my left.
Saving the Game Page 9
