“Why are you here?” I ask, ready to get to the point.
“I didn’t think you meant what you said yesterday. Now I can see what an ass you are and that I was wrong. I guess I should’ve known you’d leave the moment she came back into your life.” She shakes her head as the doors open to the parking garage. “I hope she doesn’t break your heart again, Noah. Maybe she’s only here because she’s currently out of options. Not only is she facing losing her career, but she would’ve married another man if he hadn’t left her. Remember that.”
I wish I could say that what Erica says doesn’t get to me, but it does. The fact that Meredith was engaged has bothered me from the moment I learned of it. I don’t want to question why she’s here as much as I want to question why she would’ve married him.
“Everything okay?” Meredith asks from where she sits on the couch when I walk into my apartment.
“Mostly.” I take a seat next to her. “Can I ask you something?” I definitely won’t be able to stop thinking about it now. She nods. “You said that you were planning to come back to me before you met him, and you’re here now because you want to be with me. Why were you going to marry him? Why did you say yes if you still had feelings for me?”
The fact that she has to think about it worries me to start with. “Well, I guess because I thought you would’ve moved on by now. I didn’t think I would have a chance, and there was this guy in front of me who was mostly good to me and he wanted to marry me. This is going to sound terrible, but I felt like he was my last option, and that if I left another man who wanted me, I wouldn’t be able to find another one to spend my life with.”
“So you were going to settle without even checking to see if I would want to get back together?”
She nods. “That’s one way to put it. I mean, I loved him, but it wasn’t like how it is with us. I thought it would be enough, but it obviously wasn’t.” She pauses and then adds, “Are we done talking about it now?”
“Yeah. Let’s come up with a plan for you. What are you thinking?”
Meredith angles toward me, throwing her legs onto my lap. “Well, I’ll need to find someone to continue my PT with. Maybe I’ll look up some ideas in case I go back to school.”
“Well, there’s your plan. You’ll start searching for what you want to go back to school for, live with me, and be with me while going to PT; I can recommend someone. We can reevaluate when we need to.”
“But what am I going to do in the meantime? I can’t spend all day here in your apartment; I’ll go crazy.”
“You’re going to have to figure something out or deal with it, Mere. You can’t start school when you don’t know what you want to do and with the semester having already started. Unless you want to get a job somewhere, then you’re free to do whatever you want.”
She frowns at my answer. Most people would enjoy having so much free time. She’s not happy one bit. “Okay. I’ll figure something out, then. I’m not sure I could handle a normal job, not to mention I technically only have a high school diploma. There won’t be a lot of options, none that I’ll want to do at least. Oh, do you want me to use your car or my own? I’m going to need more of my things, so I didn’t know if I needed to go home and pack myself, or get Mom to ship them to me.”
“Get your mom to do it.” I pull her into my lap. “I don’t want you going anywhere just yet.”
Something is different this morning. My eyes open, a smile immediately lifting my lips. “You’re here,” I say with a bit too much awe in my voice. The past few days, I’ve woken alone. Noah has left by the time I get out of bed. He always leaves a note and nothing more, except when he left the spare key to his apartment for me. I didn’t realize how much I wanted him here at least once until right now.
“Not for long, unfortunately. I have to go in for physicals and boring medical tests. Training camp officially starts today. What are you going to do without me?” The way he asks isn’t sarcastic, but more worried. “You haven’t left the apartment unless I’m with you.” Noah cups my cheek, his eyes crinkling with concern.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Explore. Go shopping. Learn your way around the city. Contact that physical therapist I told you about.”
None of that sounds like something I want to do, especially by myself, except the last one. “I was planning to look up majors today and call that woman, so maybe after that I will go explore or something.” Unlikely, but telling him will ease his mind.
“I’m worried about you, Mere. You’re doing the same thing here as you did at home, except you’re with me.”
I narrow my eyes at him. The only way he would know what I did at home is if he’s been talking to my mother again. “So, what? Are you and my mom having secret conversations about me? Are you planning some sort of intervention?” I roll away from him with the intention of getting out of bed.
He grabs my elbow. “Do not walk away from me.” There isn’t any anger in his voice, but he’s stern and there’s something else in his tone that I can’t put my finger on. I sit with my legs folded in front of me and cross my arms over my chest, causing him to release his hold. Noah sits up, hooks a finger under my chin, and forces me to look at him. He glances behind him and then says, “We’re worried about you, that’s all. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I argue, but there’s not an inch of fight in me, so I end up saying it quietly. I’m happy to be with Noah.
“Not completely. I have to get ready. I’ll probably be gone for most of the day. Please get out of the apartment and get an appointment scheduled, okay?”
“Fine,” I mumble.
Noah smiles. “Thank you.” He leans over to kiss me. At least that hasn’t changed. He would always give me the most gentle, tender, loving kiss after an argument. I knew things would be okay with that kiss. “I love you.”
My eyes widen. That’s the first time he’s said it since I’ve been here. He’s said how much he’s missed me, but not that he loves me. It’s such a relief to hear him say it. I didn’t know if I’d ever hear those three little words from him again. “I love you too.”
He grins, kisses me quickly, and then gets out of bed. I wonder if I should go back to sleep for a while. When I glance at his clock, I see it’s 5:45 in the morning. Why the hell am I up this early?
“What time do you have to be there?” I ask as he grabs his clothes.
“Have to report in by seven. Go back to sleep for a while.”
Now that is an order I can follow.
None of the majors sound particularly interesting when I look up programs. Now what am I supposed to do? Be careful about spending my money, so I can try to live off of it for the rest of my life? I need to do something other than go to my PT appointments. Everyone should be proud of me because I’m all set for my first appointment tomorrow. Whoopty freaking doo.
With a sigh, I pull up my browser once more and truly think about the programs. I could get a business degree. It’s broad enough that I could be flexible with whatever I end up doing from this point on. I could do a concentration in marketing or something. Although, the thought of attending college makes me a little queasy. I’ve never actually been on a campus as a student before. I went from high school to playing pro and taking online classes.
I continue scrolling. My heart aches a little as I see what used to be my major. I was going to get a degree so I could coach once I retired. But now, with my shoulder, I might not be able to rally or demonstrate without agitating it. Who would hire a coach who couldn’t play?
Do I want to be involved in tennis somehow? I’ve been thinking about it on the professional level, and that’s what’s made me hesitant. If I can play, that’s absolutely where I want to be, but if I can’t, I could do something on a lower level. There wouldn’t be the possibility of running into old friends or Vance that way.
My love for the game and how much I miss it cause me to do a quick search for job openings in the a
rea. My heart skips a beat when I see that a local high school is in need of an assistant coach for their year-round team. I may not have the educational background, but I definitely have the tennis experience. If they’re desperate enough, they could hire me. Should I apply even though I may quit the second I’m given the all-clear to train like usual, so I can return to the pro circuit? If that doesn’t happen, though, then my backup plan will already be in place.
On impulse, I fill out the application online. What can it hurt?
Two hours later, I’m getting ready to leave the apartment to explore like I promised when my phone rings. It’s a local number based on the area code. Hesitantly, I answer.
“Hello?”
“Meredith Quick?”
“This is she,” I confirm.
“Hi. My name is Gail Nicholson with Brady High School. I saw your application and I would like to schedule an interview with you. When’s the soonest you’re available?”
Oh. Wow. Okay. Gathering my wits, I say, “When would you like me to come in?”
“Could you be here in an hour and a half?”
“Absolutely.”
“Great! Just stop by the school and ask for me in the front office.”
“Okay, thank you.”
I hang up in disbelief. It can’t be that easy, can it? Shit. What am I supposed to wear to a job interview? How can I be twenty-six and feel so clueless? I grab my things and hurry down to the parking garage. I definitely don’t have anything worthy, and I’ll have just enough time to make a quick shopping trip.
By the time I make it to the school, my hands are trembling with nerves. I’m not going to get this job. I don’t even know if I want it! Before my injury, I would’ve been confident that I would be hired. I’d have the skills and no one could deny my ability. But being unable to play has shaken my confidence.
Worthless.
Pathetic.
Useless.
I cringe at remembering a few choice words from Vance. Now isn’t the best time to have that running through my head. Nonetheless, I force myself to walk in to the school and ask for Gail, adding that I’m here for an interview. The receptionist asks me to take a seat. I run my fingers through my long brown hair, hoping I didn’t frizz it up too much when I changed.
A woman walks through the door and stops short when she sees me, her jaw dropping to the floor.
“Wow, this is such an honor,” she says as she approaches me. I stand and she shakes my hand. “I wondered if it was the Meredith Quick or just someone with the same name. I didn’t realize you lived in Raleigh.”
“I recently moved here,” I explain.
She nods and faces the receptionist as she waves for me to follow her. “We’re going to take the conference room,” she tells her. To me, she says, “We’ve had the hardest time trying to fill my position, so we try to jump on each potential employee when we see the application.”
“Your position?” I question, taking the seat she directs me to.
“Yes, I’ll be moving shortly to a new position in South Carolina. I’ll interview you and if I think you’re a good fit, you’ll meet the head coach for her approval. I still can’t believe it’s you, though. I’ve followed your entire career. You’re an inspiration for many of our young girls, especially with how you became sort of an instant phenomenon within the tennis realm. I’m honestly surprised you applied for this. May I ask why?”
Usually, meeting a fan is no big deal, but in this situation, I’m a little uneasy. “Well, I’m looking for a job while my shoulder heals.” God, that has to be the lamest answer. “I mean, I won’t be able to return to the game any time soon. This will hopefully put me closer to it again. There wasn’t a place for it with the application, but um, I can demonstrate some, but there may be times when I can’t at all. I was hoping that since it’s the assistant coach position, that wouldn’t affect it too much.”
Her lips press together. “Right. We aren’t expecting you to rally with the girls the entire time. Besides, I think your experience playing more than makes up for the fact that you can’t do too terribly much. The head coach likes to take charge anyway, so I doubt she’ll mind. You’re still pretty functional, right? No problems lifting or anything like that?”
“Normal things I can still do, as long as it’s not too heavy or I have to lift my arm above my head. It’s taking time to heal. I go to PT on a regular basis, so some days may be worse for me than others.”
Gail nods. “Are your physical therapy sessions in the morning? You’ll mostly be needed from about one in the afternoon to about seven or eight, depending on games and where they’re located.”
“That won’t interfere.”
“Good. Now, the pay would be far less than what you’re used to making,” she begins. “But we’re in a good district, so it’s not as terrible as it could be.” Gail leans back in her chair. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“What exactly would I be doing?”
Gail launches into the activities I’d be expected to do. It’s not only coaching, but there’s some paperwork involved along with making sure the players stay eligible to play. I’m fairly confident that I can do everything she explains.
“If you’re still interested, I’m going to step out and call our head coach in.”
“I’m still interested.”
Gail steps out for a moment and then comes back in. “I don’t think she’ll have any objections to you, so I’m going to get you started on some paperwork. It’ll have to be completed if this goes further anyway.”
I’m in the middle of filling out a form when the head coach comes in. I turn and hear, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” from a familiar voice.
My shoulders sag. There goes my potential job.
The head coach is Erica, Noah’s ex-girlfriend.
When I get home, I’m surprised that Meredith isn’t here. I wasn’t sure if she would actually leave or not. I’m tempted to text her, but I don’t. Instead, I watch TV for about an hour before getting hungry and going into the kitchen to start dinner. That’s when Meredith walks in.
“Hey, how was your day?” I ask as she drops her purse and some papers onto the kitchen table.
She hops onto the counter next to where I’m standing at the stove. “You’ll never believe it.”
“Try me.”
“I got a job today.”
“Really? Doing what? Where?”
“Assistant tennis coach at Brady High School.” Meredith raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for something. Why does that high school sound familiar? Did the team visit the school? No, I don’t think so. Apparently, I’m taking too long to figure it out because she blurts out, “Erica is the head coach!”
Shit. That’s right. “Start from the beginning.”
“Well, I was looking at majors and saw my original one. I realized how much I miss the game, so on a whim, I looked up job openings. There was one. I filled out an application, got called into an interview today, and got the job. Then, I had to meet the head coach. I swear, if I hear, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ one more time, I might go crazy. She didn’t want them to hire me, but Gail, the current assistant coach who is moving away, convinced her I was the best option they’ve had since the position became available. I start next week. How did you meet Erica anyway?”
“Through a friend of a friend.”
“How concerned should I be about working with her? Is she going to make my life hell?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Things weren’t that serious between us, and I’m sure she’ll behave professionally.”
Meredith doesn’t seem so convinced. “Okay,” she says anyway. “How was your day?”
“It was good; I’m in great shape.”
“I could’ve told them that,” she grins, causing me to laugh. “When do I get the tour? Do you practice in the arena you play in?”
I shake my head. “Some teams do, but we have a separate arena for practice. I have a full
day off next week; we can go then.”
“That’ll work as long as I don’t have PT and we’re back in time for me to go to work.” She pauses with a frown. “It’s weird to think I have a regular normal-person day job.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
It can’t be easy. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to do anything outside of the league. Once I retire, I want to stay as involved as I can be. Meredith is struggling, and she hasn’t even officially retired yet. That’s something that’s nagging me in the back of my mind, too. If she is able to return to the game, does that mean we’re over again? I don’t want to think about that until I have to.
She seems lost in her head while I finish cooking. Without me having to ask, she gets the plates and fixes our drinks. I watch her intently. She eats slowly, mostly just poking and moving her food around. When she does speak, she surprises me with what she asks.
“Do you think everything happens for a reason, Noah? Like do you think when bad things happen to us, there’s some reason behind it?”
The pain she feels shows as she pinches her brows together, frowns, and that dead void is ever-present in her gaze. I hurt. I hurt in so many unimaginable ways, Noah. What bad thing is she thinking of? Her injury? Her relationship with Vance? That doesn’t seem to match the emotion she’s showing me. Why hasn’t she shared whatever it is that’s causing her so much pain?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “It’s life. All we can do is make the best of it and keep moving forward.”
She doesn’t seem satisfied with my answer. “I wish you could’ve been there with me. It might’ve made it easier somehow to have at least one person to lean on.”
I frown. “What are you talking about? You could’ve leaned on your parents or your friends. You weren’t alone, Mere.”
Her eyes widen a little in surprise, but then it disappears as she nods. “Right. You’re right.”
She’s hiding something. There’s something more she hasn’t said yet. I don’t question her immediately because she stands to put away her dish and then leaves me alone in the kitchen as she disappears down the hall. Does she not trust me? I’ve never done anything to cause her to mistrust me or doubt my ability to be there for her. She’s the one who walked away and stayed away until now.
Back to Me Page 5
