Last Call

by Kelly, A. S.

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  I scoff and turn my attention back towards them, where he’s finally left her some breathing space.

  “Haven’t you noticed something?” Jordan asks.

  “She’s smiling,” I say, a lump catching in my throat.

  “Exactly.”

  I take a deep breath and turn back around to face her.

  “It’s a good thing, Niall.”

  “I guess so.”

  Things could have been good between us, too – but you decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

  But I don’t say that to her. All it takes is one glance from her sad eyes and I swallow my words, letting them sink like rocks into my stomach. I don’t want to upset her, even though she used me. I don’t want to hurt her.

  “I think you can go over to them, now.”

  And I definitely don’t want to lose her.

  I think about this for a moment, then I ask her.

  “We’re all going out for pizza tonight to celebrate. Do you want to come with us?”

  “I’d love to, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I nod, disappointed. I knew she’d say no – but a part of me had hoped, anyway.

  “It was a great game,” she says. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

  The right man for the job; but not for you.

  I don’t say that, either.

  “I’ll see you around,” she says, before walking quickly away, leaving me alone with the knowledge that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be worth the risk for her.

  Niall

  After our third consecutive victory, my mood starts to brighten. It’s all thanks to the kids: they’ve saved my reputation by winning three games in a row. We’re currently placing first in the tournament.

  I send them all off into the changing rooms and chat to a few of their parents, giving my daughter time to suck face with Carter behind the bleachers.

  I pretend I have no idea what’s going on, that I’ve never seen them, or heard them on the phone. I pretend to be a good father.

  I’m making good progress, here.

  “It wasn’t easy to track you down.”

  A familiar voice rings out from behind me, in the almost-empty seats.

  “What…? What the hell…?”

  “I came to see how you’re getting on, mate.”

  “I’m not your mate,” I say to Phil, my ex-manager who I also once believed to be my friend – until he threw me under the bus, just like everyone else who used me for my fame.

  “Good game.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to coach.”

  “Oh, well, you know, after you guys told me to fuck off, I had to sort something out for myself pretty quickly.”

  “Are you pissed off with me?”

  “No.”

  Maybe I was at first; but, in the end, this was the best choice I could have made for Skylar.

  “There are only two matches left,” he reminds me.

  “I see you’re well-informed.”

  “Then what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What will you do once it’s over?”

  “Do you honestly care? I don’t remember any phone calls from you over the past few months. You haven’t even asked me how my daughter is doing.”

  “You’re right. How is…?”

  “Skylar.”

  “Right. Skylar.”

  “What do you want, Phil? Why are you here in Donegal? I never had you down as the country type.”

  He laughs. “Of course not. I came here for you.”

  “For me.”

  “They want you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They want you to come home.”

  * * *

  I’ve invited Phil to my parents’ house, so that we can discuss everything properly. My mum offered him a coffee and a slice of her famous apple tart, which he refused. I, on the other hand, am already on my second slice. Then she left us alone, asking Skylar to help her with something in the garden so that we had more privacy.

  “You never used to eat all that sugary crap,” he points out, gesturing towards my second helping of dessert.

  “What I ate used to be your business,” I snap. “Now it’s mine.”

  “I know that you’re pissed off with me.”

  “You left me on the street.”

  “You aren’t exactly living under a bridge.”

  “I’m thirty-eight years old and I live with my fifteen-year-old daughter in my parents’ house, Phil.”

  “I thought you’d have something saved up. You played for twenty years, and had all those sponsorships, gifts, bonuses.”

  “I had some unexpected expenses to take care of.”

  “Unexpected expenses?”

  “That’s none of your business, either. You’re not my manager anymore – you’re nothing to me, now.”

  Phil abandoned me in the moment I needed him most. When Skylar’s mother died and she came to live with me, I asked him for help: my manager of twenty years. My best friend. I spoke to him about my problems with Skylar, the fact that she needed more consistency in her life. I told him I needed to take some time away from playing, from all the bullshit that came with it. I asked him to help me transfer to a smaller team, or to give me a few months’ leave. Phil suggested I put her in a boarding school, maybe abroad somewhere, or to hire someone to look after her. He wanted me to focus on myself, my future. He said that I couldn’t throw everything away just for a little girl. As far as he was concerned, I could’ve played for another two years at least, worked my way up to the top of the company. I could’ve had more money, more power, more women. I could’ve got a bigger house, too – everything that a guy like me could ever have dreamed of. Then, one night, I heard Skylar crying in her room; I heard her cry out her mother’s name and pray for her to come back and take her away. The next day, I called Phil and told him I was retiring from sport, with or without his consent. A week later, I was out in the street – not literally, of course. But I was pretty damn close.

  “I’m here to offer you a job.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Management want you.”

  “To do what?”

  “To coach.”

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  “The junior team. Thirteen to sixteen years old. They’re a good squad: champions are born from that team. It could give you a chance to come home.”

  “I am home, Phil.”

  “Come on. You can’t tell me you’re seriously doing well here.”

  “My daughter’s just settling in. She’s making friends.”

  “She’ll make new ones.”

  “Do you know what it cost me to get her a place in that school?”

  “Not a problem: management will take care of that. What do you say to a private Catholic school? It would look good for your reputation, too.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “They want you. Okay? They want your history: both of you. The ex-star who suddenly became a father, the problematic teenage daughter, the mother who died of cancer. The fact that you came back home to start over.”

  “I don’t—”

  “They’ll love you.”

  “Who?”

  “The papers, the sponsors.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “They’ll pay thousands of euros just the image of you – and then for your daughter.”

  “What has Skylar got to do with this?”

  “We’ll find something for her, too. Clothes, shoes, jewellery…”

  “I think you need to leave. Now.”

  “What?”

  I get to my feet. “Get out of my house.”

  He stands up, too. “You’re insane.”

  “I’m not. But you appear to be.”

  “You’re turning this down…for what? To coach a l
ocal school team?”

  “I’m turning this down because the things you’re offering mean nothing to me.”

  “They used to mean a lot to you.”

  “I never used to love a little girl more than I love myself, Phil.”

  “Don’t you see how good this would be for her? Think of everything you could give her.”

  “We’re doing well here. On my father’s farm, out in the countryside. We’re happy in this house, even if it’s not mine. We’re happy together, with everything that we have here.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “You can start to believe it as you’re going home. You should’ve called first – it would’ve saved you the journey.” I head towards the front door and open it.

  “This is your last call, Niall. There won’t be any other chances. If you say no now…”

  “Safe journey, Phil.”

  He shakes his head and leaves my parents’ house, jumping into his car. Someone opens the automatic gates to let him out; I turn to find my parents standing behind me, their expressions unreadable.

  “Is it true?” my father asks.

  “What?”

  “What you said, about you being happy here.”

  I smile at him.

  “Does that mean you’ll stay?” my mother adds.

  “That’s what it looks like – even though I have no idea what I’ll do once this tournament is over. I have no idea how I’ll even manage to pay for my daughter’s school uniform.”

  “Where has all your money gone, Niall?” my father asks.

  “I spent it.”

  “How?”

  I take a deep breath, and decide to tell them the truth.

  “She didn’t have any.”

  “Who?”

  “She couldn’t pay for her treatment – at least, not for the medicines that were helping her get better, or helping her deal with the pain, so that she could spend a few more hours with Skylar. Then there was the day nurse, the night nurse…” My throat starts to close over. I feel like I’m suffocating. “She had some debt, too: a car that she was paying off, two credit cards. She used them to pay for Skylar’s expenses.”

  “Honey…”

  “After she’d been ill for six months, she lost her job. And I… I wanted to help out. I couldn’t be near her – I couldn’t see her like that. She was so beautiful. She looked just like Skylar.”

  My mother’s eyes fill with tears.

  “I didn’t want my last memories of her to be in a bed. I was so stupid, so selfish.”

  “No, darling.”

  “I did the only thing I could do: I helped her out financially. I paid her bills, settled her debts, and…”

  “And the rest?” my father asks. “You can’t have spent everything on her.”

  I shake my head. “The rest is in an account for Skylar, which she can access when she’s eighteen. Or earlier, if I die.”

  “You really thought of everything.”

  “No, Mum. I didn’t. I didn’t think about how much that girl needed me in her life. I didn’t think about how much I’d regret missing her grow up. I didn’t think about how much I hurt them both.”

  “Is that all true?” Skylar’s voice suddenly floats into the room from behind my parents. They step aside, letting her past. “Everything you said…?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know. I can’t do a fucking thing right!”

  “You just said ‘fuck’,” she says.

  “See? But you said it, too.”

  My parents leave the room silently, so that we can be alone.

  “Did you really do all those things for her? For me?”

  I shrug. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how.”

  “Did you love her?” she asks.

  I nod. “She was amazing.”

  “She was.”

  “Like you.”

  A single tear slithers down her face; my own cheeks flood with tears.

  “So we’re staying here?”

  “We’re staying here. In your grandparents’ house. I can’t afford anything else right now, but I promise you that—”

  Skylar moves quickly, launching herself at me and wrapping her arms around my waist.

  “It’s perfect. Here is absolutely perfect.”

  “Seriously?”

  She lifts her gaze to meet mine.

  “I like living here with you, Dad.”

  “Did you just call me what I think you called me?”

  She laughs and hugs me tighter. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Oh, honey.” I squeeze her back. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “And thanks for everything you did for Mum. She always said you were special.”

  “Did she really?”

  “And she loved you, too, you know.” She looks at me again. “And so do I.”

  I don’t know if any of this counts towards a nomination for Father of the Year, but it definitely counts to me.

  There’s nothing better than to feel loved – especially when the person loving you is a fifteen-year-old girl who hates everyone and everything, but has miraculously decided not to hate you.

  Jordan

  I open the door, purse in hand; but I realise right away that this isn’t the usual delivery guy.

  “Did someone order fish and chips?” He waggles the bag towards me.

  “I hope you gave him a good tip.”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Then you’ll need to make an appointment through my secretary.”

  “They offered me a position,” he tells me, taking a step inside. I back away instinctively, and he closes the door.

  “What position?”

  “Coach for the Dublin junior team.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “They’ve even found Skylar a place in a private Catholic school there. Serious stuff.”

  “That’s a great opportunity for both of you.”

  “Yeah.”

  I head into the kitchen, where a newly-poured glass of wine is waiting for me; I need something to swallow this news with. Niall follows me, placing the bag of food on the counter, before leaning against it himself.

  “So you came to say goodbye.”

  He shakes his head. “I came here to ask you for a reason to stay.”

  The glass almost slips out of my hand. “The tournament is almost over, and I have no other jobs to offer you.”

  “What if the reason wasn’t work? What if the reason was you?”

  I attempt to swallow my response, along with the lump forming in my throat.

  “What if you asked me to stay, for you?”

  “Niall…”

  “I loved her,” he says, stopping me. “Her mother.”

  “Skylar’s mother?”

  “I didn’t love her in that way, but I loved her all the same. She gave me my daughter, so…” He smiles, sadly. “When she fell ill my whole world came crashing down. It isn’t easy to see someone so young fade away more and more every day. It’s not easy to think that there’s a little girl who will grow up without a mother; and it’s not easy to watch someone die. I didn’t want to see her like that. I was scared.”

  “Scared of what she’d be like?”

  “Scared that I would never be able to remember her as she was before. I didn’t want that to be my last memory of her; but I made a mistake. I was selfish. I let her die, alone, with only a scared, vulnerable girl by her side. I was a real piece of shit.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I don’t know what else I can say.

  “When she died, I thought I’d lost myself. I didn’t even recognise my own reflection anymore; I stopped enjoying things that I used to love. I didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning, take care of my daughter. I didn’t want to play anymore.”

  “You had depression?”

  “I was watching this girl grow up in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t help but fuel her own self-destruction; and mine.
I did nothing to help her. I wasn’t the father she needed. I was nothing.”

  “You were suffering, too. It wasn’t easy.”

  “Then I realised as soon as I got here: it wasn’t my last chance, my last call. And after I kissed you, it felt like I’d lost myself only to be found again as a different person, in another life. Thanks to you.”

  I can’t speak; I’m terrified that even one syllable would bring a gushing flow of tears.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, because I’ve never felt the way I feel now, about you. You have to believe me when I tell you that it can’t be anything but love.”

  “You can’t—”

  “You were beautiful as a kid, Jordan. You were so bright, so intelligent. You were sexy, unobtainable. And you’re even more beautiful now, as a woman. And, okay, you’re bossy, controlling and proud – but I know that you’re also sweet, and good, and kind. With me, you let yourself go, because you know that you can be whoever you want around me. Because I love you. And when you love someone, you just love them, full stop. There are no compromises, or agreements to sign. There’s no small print at the bottom of the page. I’ve learnt that recently.”

  I laugh, the tears uncontrollable now.

  “I’m sorry that someone else broke your heart so badly that you don’t believe in love anymore; but I’m here now, if you want, to help you learn to believe again.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “No, it’s not. And that’s the problem; trust. I need you to trust me.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  He smiles, sadly. “I thought you might say that. It’s always hard to trust the bad boy at school.”

  “Too hard.”

  He sighs heavily, then speaks again.

  “Just give me a reason to stay. Give me a reason to start over. Give me someone to love. Give me you. I want to love you, but only if you’ll let me. Only if you want to love me back.”

  I really want to; but I’m terrified by the possibility of falling for him. I can’t do anything now but let my heavy breathing fill the silence.

  “This is our last call, Jordan. There won’t be any others. You get to decide, now.”

  He steps closer to me and drops a kiss onto my cheek, before heading towards the door and leaving me standing, alone, in my apartment, with nothing but my tears and my fear for company.