Just My Luck (33 page)

It wasn’t hard at all to see that the French were pushing hard at the breakdown, and that the All Blacks weren’t getting into any kind of smooth rhythm. The whole thing, in fact, was the kind of messy rugby that usually put her to sleep, but tonight was only making her anxious. Scrums and scrum resets, short runs followed by tackles. So few of the long sequences of precise passing that, she had heard, normally marked an All Blacks game. Instead, control of the ball shifting again and again. And then a pair of penalties within ten minutes in the wrong half of the field, first for a knock-on, then for not releasing the ball after a tackle, and France was suddenly up 6-0.

“What’s happening?” Ally asked Kate in frustration after the second French kick sailed between the uprights.

“France has been playing together in the Six Nations, the European championship,” Kate explained, not laughing anymore. “Whereas the All Blacks have only had those few mini training periods together. The first test of the year is always rough. It sure is tonight.”

At last, a New Zealand try before halftime to energize the crowd again, the conversion made, and the All Blacks were up 7-6 when the teams trotted back into the tunnel. The exhilaration before the game was replaced by a more subdued mood during the break, and on into the second half. Ally did her best to hold onto her faith as the score shifted back and forth. The crowd, which had started the evening out in full voice, were still quiet, the French performance taking them out of the game.

And then there were three minutes to play, and the All Blacks were ahead by two, the French pressing on attack. No joking even from Kate now as the All Blacks tackled again and again, fought for a ball that the French refused to turn over. The French were patiently moving the ball down the field, inside the New Zealand 22 now, and the clock was ticking down.

“Come on,” Kate muttered beside Ally. “Come
on.”

They were going to do it, Ally thought, her heart in her throat. The defense was going to hold. The French attacked the line over and over, the seconds relentlessly disappearing on the clock. A gain of a meter, another for three. It wasn’t going to be enough. The All Blacks were going to win.

And then the hooter sounding, time running out. But, Ally knew by now, the game didn’t end until the team in possession lost the ball, and the French still had it. One run after another, one tackle after another. And, finally, a long pass back to the French Number 10. The man lifting the ball, sending the drop-kick cleanly through the posts, a long groan from the crowd. And the French had won it by a single damning point.

It was a quiet crowd that filed from the stands, and the five women who had started the evening so happily were no exception. Hugs all around, promises to call, and Kristen and Ally were headed back to St. Heliers with Hannah.

“The first test match is always tough,” Hannah said, breaking the silence with an echo of Kate’s earlier words. “It’s lucky that it’s a three-game series, isn’t it?”

But when Ally said as much to Nate the following evening, he brushed the comment aside.

“It was ugly,” he said briefly over dinner. “Leave it at that. We’ll be putting those things right this week.”

Ally took another look at his shuttered expression and considered trying again. But he turned the conversation, and she went along with him. The loss was still too recent, she guessed, and too raw. Well, he’d have a chance to relax tomorrow, and that had to help.

She was wrong, though.

“I know we talked about doing something today,” he said over breakfast the next morning. “But I should really watch the game, make some notes, get ready for the week. D’you mind if I take you home after we’re done here?”

“Well,” she hesitated. “Well, yes. I mean, don’t you think it might be better if you took a break? I know it’s raining, but we could still take a walk, maybe. Or just stay in and watch a movie. At least for the morning.”

“I need to do this,” he said again. Gave a sigh, and went on. “I’m going to need to focus for the test window, the last bit of the Super 15 season too. You and I’ll have a bit of time before the third test, though, as we’re playing it here, and that’s just a week away. We can do a couple nights then. And once the season’s over, before the Rugby Championship starts, we’ll have more time. Maybe you can make some plans for us. Another month or so, that’s all. Can you give me a bit of a pass till then?”

For a
month?
But what choice did she have? None, she realized. And it was a little pathetic to beg somebody to spend time with you, wasn’t it? Even though she really
did
think that he needed a break. All right, he didn’t want to share his disappointment at the loss. But still . . . Wouldn’t it help to be with her? Didn’t he
want
to be with her?

“So . . .” she said when he was dropping her at the flat an hour later. “See you next week, when you’re back from New Plymouth?”

“Yeh,” he said. “I’ll text you, and talk to you Saturday afternoon. And I’ll see you Sunday night.”

And would send her flowers too, she thought as she stood in the lobby and watched him drive away. He wasn’t ignoring her, not exactly. Just not letting her in.

Anyway, she had the day off. Too bad she didn’t have anything to do with it. Kristen was with Liam, and she’d bet
he
wasn’t watching game film today.

A New World 

“I have news,” Kristen said almost two weeks later. Liam had collected her from home as usual, and they were in New World now, pushing a trolley through the veg aisle. Which suited him down to the ground.

“What’s that?” he asked, tossing a bag of spinach into the trolley and beginning to sort through the kumara. They’d fallen into the habit of cooking dinner together at his house, then watching a movie on the night before a home game, and sometimes the day after a game too, when he was too knackered to go out. A routine that was more than welcome, on this evening before the final All Blacks match against the French, the one that would decide the series. New Zealand had won the previous week’s game, but it had been too close, and tomorrow’s match was by no means a foregone conclusion.

So, yeh. He needed the distraction, and Kristen was nothing if not distracting. In fact, sitting on the couch with her could fairly be described as torture. After their one experiment with a rom-com, they’d agreed to stick with old stuff, and some of the milder action films. Because if sitting on the couch with her was hard, watching a love scene with her . . . well, he was only human, and there were some things that were just too much to ask.

“Remember how we were talking about how my store, how we hardly have any shoe selection?” she demanded.

“Yeh,” he said, moving on to the meat department. “I remember. Venison OK?”

“Sure,” she said, sounding distracted. “Anyway. While you’ve been gone, big news! I asked if I could present a proposal for expanding the shoe department, and Simone said yes!”

He turned to her in surprise, saw her eyes sparkling. She was all but bouncing. “That’s awesome! When are you doing it?”

“Three weeks from now. July fifth. I’ve been working on it all week, doing the research, but there’s still so much to do. All my boards to prepare, and my regular job too, of course. But it’s worth it.”

“Boards?”                           

“Oh. My presentation boards,” she explained. “Theme board, color board, line board. To show what we’d do, how it would coordinate with our clothing line.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he decided. “Though if you want to practice with me before you do it, I’d be happy. We’ll be playing here that week, so I’ll be around. You could run through it a few times. That’d help, on the day.”

“It would,” she said. “But really? You’d be willing to do that?”

“Course. Can’t promise to ask intelligent questions, but I’ll do my best. It’s probably not too different from a footy match. The more you practice every scenario, the more effortless you can make it look. And the more likely you are to win.”

 “I’m going to take you up on that,” she decided. “I’ll be using you mercilessly.”

And that was another flash of imagination that didn’t do him any favors at all. Of her on top of him, using him mercilessly. Oh, yeh. He’d let her use him.

Crikey, this celibacy thing was hard. And getting harder all the time, in more ways than one. Some days, he thought he would actually explode.

“Heaps of work, then?” He forced his mind back with a herculean effort.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, “and I have to do projections, too. That’s harder, but Hannah’s been advising me some. I’m really nervous, but it’s exciting. Even if they don’t agree to it, I’m showing that I have ideas, you know? It feels like a big step.”

“It
is
a big step. It’s awesome,” he said again. Reached out and gave her a cuddle, just because she looked like a little girl looking forward to a birthday party, and at the same time, like a woman who was rightfully proud of what she’d done. Because she was Kristen, and she was trying so hard, and she was getting somewhere. And because he loved her, and he wanted to touch her.

“I’m really proud of you,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, smoothing a hand over the golden hair. And that was just about enough of that, or he was going to be in real trouble. He stepped back again, cleared his throat.
Bread,
he thought with relief, and set out for the next aisle.

“Are you OK with all that?” Kristen asked when they’d checked out and he’d gathered all the bags, turned for the door. “Do you want me to carry something?”

“Think I can just about manage it,” he said seriously. Then smiled at her. “I like carrying things for you, don’t you know that? Makes me feel good.”

“I think I
have
figured that out,” she said with a laugh. “You’re a pretty handy guy to have around. Somebody who wants to buy me shoes and send me flowers and carry my groceries? I think you’re pretty much my Dream Man.”

“Good,” he said. “Let me know if I slip, because that’s exactly where I want to stay.”

“Sorry.” He turned at the voice. A boy, six or seven, messy brown hair sticking up a bit. Standing there, shifting from foot to foot, looking anxious and excited. Liam glanced beyond him, saw the mum with her trolley at another checkout, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” the boy said again, earnest face raised to Liam’s. “But I wanted to tell you, you’re my favorite. Mum said I mustn’t disturb, but I wanted to say.”

“Well, if I’m your favorite, I want to hear that, don’t I?” Liam answered. “Cheers, mate. Are you a forward, then, yourself?”

“A hooker,” the boy said proudly. “Just like you. But it’s dead hard sometimes, isn’t it?”

“It can be,” Liam agreed. “Something troubling you in particular?”

“Yeh,” the boy said. “The lineout. I got two penalties last week for not throwing in straight. So I wanted to ask you, how d’you make sure?”

“Do it over and over, till you get it right,” Liam said promptly. “Stay after if you have to, after practice. That’s what I do.”

“You do?”

“Course. I was having a bit of trouble with that myself, couple years ago. Spent extra time on it before every game. You practice hard enough, you’re bound to get better, eh.”

“Thanks!” the boy said. “I’ll practice more.”

“Cheers,” Liam said. “Go on back to your mum, now. Help her carry those bags.”

“You were nice,” Kristen said as they walked out of the supermarket together. “You really like kids, I’ve noticed that. I think that’s great.”

“Doesn’t exactly make me unique,” he pointed out. “Specially amongst Maori. We do tend to have some kids. Another of our many talents.”

“But you didn’t, eh,” he went on, at the car now. He glanced at her, then opened the boot and began to set bags carefully inside. “When you were married. Was that your choice?”

He waited for the answer, knowing how much it mattered to him. He thought he knew, but it was better to be sure.

 “I didn’t at first,” she said soberly, leaning against the boot after he’d closed it. “When I was younger. I didn’t know that much about being a mother. Not about doing it right, anyway. But then, thinking about Hannah, I realized I
did
know. I knew how she loved me, how she tried to help me, growing up. And I saw how good a job she did with Jack, and I thought, maybe I could do that too. Maybe I could, if I tried hard. And I
would
try hard. I’d try so hard.”

“I’d know how to love my child, anyway,” she said, suddenly sounding fierce, totally unlike Kristen. “I’d know how to put my kids’ needs above my own. I’d know how to protect my kids. I’d know how to do that, and I would. I
would.
”

“Course you would,” he said. “I’d say you know how to love pretty well, from what I’ve seen.
Real
love, where you care more about the other person than yourself. I’d say you know all about that.”

“So it wasn’t you,” he prompted gently when she remained silent, looking off into the distance. Not moving from her spot, leaning against the boot. Hell of a place for this, but he’d take it. “But still, no kids.”

“No,” she sighed, looking back at him again. “That was him. Marshall.”

“What kind of man doesn’t want kids?” he wondered.

“That kind, I guess,” she shrugged. “He said . . .” She stopped. “You don’t want to know this. It’s embarrassing.” She pushed herself off the car, turned away. “We should go.”

“Kristen. Wait,” he said, feeling the urgency of it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know.”

She turned back again, looked down. Ran the strap of her purse nervously through her hands as she spoke, still not meeting his eyes.

“It was that . . .” she began. “That, you know, that pregnant women were . . . gross. And afterwards, stretch marks. What happens to your . . . your breasts. And breastfeeding. He said,” and she was crimson now, but plowed on regardless. “That those were his. And he wasn’t sharing.”

Liam could feel his body tightening with anger on her behalf, with outrage that any man could feel that way. That a man would say something like that to his wife, to the woman he’d promised to love and cherish, the woman he was meant to protect.