Always and Forever: Rugby Brothers, Book 3

by Tiara Inserto

  “It’s a good thing he won then. Not all of us make it up the podium.”

  “He wouldn’t have quit until his body gave out. That’s just who it is.”

  “Would you? Have kept going until you reached your goal?”

  “I never had to make that decision. I won the title. Twice. Not much more to win after that.”

  “Over achiever.”

  Mano laughed. “Eden, follow your own advice. You know deep down what’s the right decision. You’re a competitor. Trust that instinct. Trust your heart. There are people waiting to help you get there. Including me.”

  A few hours later, Eden threw her bag on the bleachers and began to stretch. She hadn’t planned to be back at the pool that afternoon. But her dads insisted she get out of the house while they spend some time with Aidan.

  The water was where it always made sense.

  This time, however, Eden took some time to watch the lines of silicone-capped heads swimming back and forth. It must be a type of insanity that drives people to do the same thing over and over again. What is it about competitive athletes that propels them to carve time from full, busy lives in pursuit of an elusive, often changing goal? The greats kept going, until their bodies screamed in protest. It was no longer about the titles, the money, or even the recognition.

  Am I brave enough to think of myself like them? They do it because they want to know if they can.

  Eden reached for her swim cap and pulled it over her head. Making it to the National Championships was supposed to be in honor of her mother, an accomplishment they would both share though achieved decades apart.

  That couldn’t be the only reason anymore.

  “Why, Eden?” she whispered to herself. “Why set yourself up for heartache again?”

  Why not?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Mano spent the next few mornings with Antoinette and Michael; then he’d drive to either Mitch’s or Connor’s homes, his friends having returned from Los Angeles soon after him. There was a day out at sea with Uncle Malcolm and his cousins. What was supposed to be a free morning to catch up with work was spent at the gym with Neela and her teammates.

  In all that time, no one brought up Margot’s name. Not even Antoinette. So, he didn’t either.

  Only Eden would ask if he heard from her. But she never pushed for more, satisfied with his simple answer of ‘no.’

  Thousands of miles away, her voice in his ear was how he ended his days.

  “He can be such an ass,” Eden said.

  “Brandon?” Mano asked.

  “I should never have agreed to work with him.”

  Mano decided not to make a comment. She’d hear his amusement immediately.

  Instead, she picked on his silence. “And this is the part where you go ‘You’re right honey-bunny. He’s an ass. Don’t work with him, blah, blah, blah’.”

  “Honey-bunny?”

  “Too much?”

  “You’re no one’s bunny.”

  Eden’s laugh released his smile.

  Michael passed away exactly a week after Mano returned home. This time Corrine came with him to fetch Margot. No one was able to get hold of her directly.

  “Do you think she knows?” Corrine asked on the way to Tekapo.

  “I think she would’ve guessed what had happened after you, me, and Antoinette tried to phone her in the space of one hour,” Mano said.

  Corrine looked out of the window. “Why can’t she say good-bye, Mano? Not to you, not to me, not to her father. The girl I grew up with would have stayed by his side twenty-four-seven.”

  “We know she’s changed. All we can do is learn who this ‘new’ Margot is.”

  “Well, I’m not sure if I like this new Margot. I want our old one back.”

  Mano glanced at his passenger. Her face remained averted, but a flush had crept up a straining neck. He carefully reached for her hand and hoped she felt his support. He, as the jilted fiancé, garnered a lot of sympathy. He doubted Corrine received much words of comfort at her friend’s disappearance. “I think the Margot we knew is gone forever, Corrine.”

  Margot was outside the motel, a bag at her feet. Before Mano could turn off the engine, Margot reached for the handle and slid into the back of the car.

  “Hi,” Corrine said softly. “We didn’t know if you got our messages—”

  “Mum planned the funeral quickly,” Margot said.

  Mano caught her attention in the rear-view mirror. “Actually, it was all your father. He organized it as soon as he learned he had Alzheimer’s.”

  Margot’s shoulder deflated as she leaned deeper into the seat. “That would be dad, wouldn’t it? Always thinking ahead.”

  Corrine tried to start a conversation with Margot, but after a couple of monosyllabic responses from the backseat, she, too, spent the rest of the drive back to Christchurch gazing out the window.

  The funeral was held three days later. It was a quiet affair with mostly family and a few friends. Antoinette and Michael kept a small but tight social group. Mano sat with Corrine during the service, in the church where Margot had been baptized, and where they were to have married.

  Neela and Blake sat behind them, as did Connor and Mitch. The latter two had never met Michael. They were there for him.

  Neither Antoinette nor Margot said anything. Only the pastor spoke, a short but thoughtful eulogy.

  This was definitely Michael all the way: no fuss and no fanfare.

  As the church emptied, Mano’s gaze lingered on Margot’s kneeling figure. Neela looped her arm around Mano’s neck from the back then kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll take Corrine with us to help set things up at the house. See you back there?”

  He nodded. When he slid into Margot’s pew, she rose from her knees and sat back on the seat. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Mum’s giving me a few minutes,” Margot said. “She’s tired, you know. I hope she’ll go back to Auckland now that he’s dead. She never did anything for herself while she lived here. Did I tell you I found an old album of hers? Full of newspaper clippings and photos of her dancing days. She was good. Could have been a professional.”

  “I’m sure she was really good.”

  “Can you imagine spending so much of your life looking at what you had to give up?”

  “She also has an album of her life with you and your dad. It’s a big album.”

  Margot angled her body slightly to face him. “What about you, Mano? Do you have a collection of all the articles that say how great you were?”

  “No.”

  “Do you still love me?”

  The sharpness of her tone rather than the meaning of the question caused his frown. Was that a flash of anger in her eyes? Was this a test? “You’re the second person to ask me that. Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe because there’s a part of me that still feels guilty for leaving you the way I did.” She looked around. “You wouldn’t lie in church, would you?”

  “I’ve never lied to you.”

  She smiled. “You’re right. But you don’t owe me the truth anymore.”

  “Someone told me that feelings evolve,” he began slowly. “And I’ve been trying to understand what I feel for you since you left. It’s not the same kind of love, but it is a type of love. You were the first woman I ever felt I could spend my life with. And you will always hold that position – as the first.”

  Margot lowered her head, the earlier sassiness now gone. Her body slouched in her seat. She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. “I’m sorry I changed. The future we were planning could have been a good one.”

  “Maybe. But don’t be sorry. I’ll never regret us.”

  She wiped her cheeks swiftly then gave him a quick smile. “Nor I.”

  She stood up, rubbed her skirt flat then turned toward Mano. “Be safe, and thank you for loving my parents the way you did.” She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Another man would have stoppe
d caring.”

  The next day, Mano flew to Auckland and followed the route he took almost a year ago. This time, however, there was no overnight stay at the pub despite an invitation from the owners who welcomed him back with open arms and lots of winking-and-nudging.

  Mano spent the afternoon at Jay’s grave before stopping in to see Jay’s widow, Kelly, and their daughter, Maile. Curly hair-ed with big brown eyes, Mano saw a lot of his late friend in his little girl: her spirit, her smile, and especially with a rugby ball always in her hands.

  When he reached the bach, the final light of the day was giving way to the coolness of the night. A stale scent hung in the air when he entered, but other than being a little dusty, the bach looked pretty much as he left it. He immediately opened the door to the deck and the rush of sea air slapped his face. He didn’t feel its chill; he embraced its raw and unreserved welcome.

  A couple of days later, as he watched the surfers while eating a sandwich, the last thing he expected to see were four familiar bodies walking up the beach towards the bach. There was some friendly jostling from the younger two, with one nearly getting dumped in the waves. The group moved casually, no urgency in their strides. At one point, the largest of the four put his hand to shield the sun from his face. Mano raised his hand up, recognizing his friends would want a signal from him.

  They were uninvited guests, but they were never going to be turned away from his door.

  When Mitch reached the top of the hill, Mano threw a can at him. “What are you lot doing here? I left a message this time.”

  Connor came up behind him and opened his hand to receive the next can tossed. “Yeah, but we had such a good time when we here last, we thought we’d do it again. We did make the mistake of telling these two, and they decided they wanted to come along as well.”

  “Who’s taking care of my house, Tim?” Mano asked.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to it if it’s empty for a couple of days. Hey, where’s my drink?” Tim said.

  “Get it yourself, mate. Only the captains get service,” Mano replied.

  Tim looked at Mitch. “We’re pulling rugby rank this week, are we?”

  “Don’t look at me. You wanted to come along,” Mitch said.

  The deck became crowded very quickly as bar stools were moved from the kitchen to outside. “There’s only one bed here, and it’s mine,” Mano said.

  “It’ll stay yours,” Connor said. “We rented a place not too far from here. We thought you could use both company and some privacy, this time around.”

  “Basically, we don’t think you’re going to kill yourself this year,” Blake added.

  Mano glared at him. “Why are you even here?”

  “Neela’s training in Wellington for the week. I rather be with my rugby-brothers than alone,” Blake said.

  The next few days felt like deja-vu. They indulged in a lot of physical activity, cooked, went fishing, borrowed some boards and gave surfing a go. Eventually, they were going to ask, and the questions came on the last night of their stay as they gathered round the makeshift fire pit Tim put together.

  “You staying there or she coming over?” Mitch asked.

  Just like that. No fuss; no build-up. Straight to the point in typical Molloy fashion.

  Mano took a drink from his beer. “Who do you mean?”

  Mitch simply raised his eyebrows. Blake laughed so loud he almost fell of his stool. Timothy hollered. “Yes! A showdown between Molloy and Palua. I knew being put through physical torture this week was going to have its rewards!”

  Connor, dressed in a cashmere sweater, his neck protected by a woolen scarf, was seated in a foldup chair, next to Mitch. “Come on, mate. We saw the way you looked at her,” he said, tapping his fingers expectantly on the metal armrest. “She’s come to mean a lot to you.”

  “True,” Mano said.

  “And?” Mitch asked.

  “Nothing to add. I’ll go back to California in a couple of days. Finish up my contract. But she lives there; my home is here. That’s it. End of story.”

  “Why should it be the end of a story?” Blake asked. “From what everyone has said, she’s been looking out for you almost since the day you landed in California. You’ve come home more like yourself.”

  “Do you love her? This Eden Pak?”

  Mitch’s quiet question hung between them. Even the wind died down then, as if the universe was waiting for his public declaration. Once it was said for others to hear, it could never be taken back. It would reach the ears of the past, the present, and the future. His future; her future.

  Their future.

  “I…do.”

  Even he heard the anguish in his voice. He finished his bottle abruptly, got up and walked towards the recycling bin hidden in the dark corner of the small garden. He ran his hand through his hair.

  “What’s she like, Mano?” Tim asked.

  He emerged from the shadows and returned to his seat. His heart warmed at the memories that came with her name. He smiled. “She’s a single mum juggling everything. The kids at uni really like working with her; she gets them, being an athlete herself. She forgets her keys a lot, loves to cook and hates talking to her son’s teachers. She makes do with what she has; doesn’t like hand-outs. Aidan – her son – has her smile. It’s all smiles or none. And she said she’d wait for me until I’m ready to love her back.”

  “What?!” “Shit!” “No way!”

  “Why the hell are you still here?” Blake asked.

  “Stanton…”

  Blake glanced at Mitch. “What? You’re thinking the same thing!”

  “Not everyone has been in love with their wife since they were twelve-years old, Stanton,” Mitch shot back.

  Mano smiled. He had been in France when Blake reacquainted himself with his cousin, who also happened to be Blake’s childhood crush. Neela and Blake—or “NeeLake”—were last summer’s feel-good story, but he knew behind the media blitz about the romance were two people who were always meant for each other.

  “As a member of your family—”

  Mano stared at Blake. “As the younger member of my family, you’ll know better than to say more.”

  Connor laughed then. “Well, since I’m not, I’ll say what I think Blake was going to say. You love her. There’s nothing holding you here right now, mate. Come on, even her name is perfect for you. She shares the name with your favorite place in the world.”

  Mano tapped his temple. “I’m not quite right yet in here. There are still days…” He glanced at the faces around the fire place, and tried again. “There are still days I can’t let anyone in. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “What does she say about this?”

  “What do you mean?” Mano turned to Mitch.

  “Liana said Eden is fully aware of what you’re going through. When Liana went through postpartum depression, I had never felt so helpless in my life. But the only place I wanted to be was by her side. Eden has seen a lot of life. And she’s choosing you.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “If Eden is willing to wait until you are ready to love her like you can, then the man I know would fight for that,” Connor said.

  Mano heard the words and understood the message. He had learned to live with loss, to shelve another life under “what-could-have-been,” but was he ready to consider himself the right partner to a beautiful American swimmer whose kisses took him to a different place?

  It’d be a future of sunshine and chlorine and teenager-hood.

  Tim cleared his throat. “If the words of a single, gay man have any weight on this topic, here’s my input—”

  “Oh god, here he goes…please, no rugby metaphors,” Blake moaned.

  Tim ignored him. “The bigger regret would be not knowing if you two could make it work. You’re not the type of man to stand on the sidelines wishing for anything. None of you are. You were born to take calculated risks. Those instincts have been fine-tuned on the pitch. It’s what made you lot
world champions.”

  “And there it is…just couldn’t help himself…associating our love lives with rugby,” Blake muttered.

  “Hey, I was right about you and Neela, wasn’t I?” Tim retorted, smugly.

  The fellas left just after midnight.

  Mano doused the already dying fire with water: a soft sizzle followed by a light plume of smoke rose. The crashing waves promised his night wasn’t going to be quiet. He appreciated the white noise.

  Once inside, he shut the sliding doors and drew the curtains. A quick glance at the kitchen clock suggested a call to California might be a little early. Eden could be up but probably in bed, mentally planning out her day. She emanated a quiet strength from the first moment they met. She’d already shown that she didn’t need him in her life.

  But she wanted him.

  Being with her would be a “calculated risk”. Was it one he was willing to take again?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Seven Hills, California

  The BART ride from the airport to Seven Hills was empty and on time. He was returning a day early, unconcerned at the last-minute cost of his flight change. There was nothing waiting for him in New Zealand anymore. Not alone, anyway.

  He smiled at the blue skies that welcomed him after the train emerged from the final tunnel before his stop. Cloudless; higher; wider; bright. It was now familiar and welcoming.

  Normally, especially unburdened by a suitcase, he would have considered the three mile walk home from the station. But not today. He headed straight for the taxi stand.

  “The swimming pool at St. Anne’s, please.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Mano walked through the glass doors to hear a familiar voice…yelling.