Chapter Twenty-one
Ross handed Viv the whistle. “You’ll have to take over as ref, Meredith. My leg’s not up to any more running and we’re not letting the other coach ref again. If you get stuck, I’ll cue you.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
As Viv marched off, Ross turned to the three subs. “You guys are the support crew,” he said. “I want you to run up and down the sidelines yelling encouragement when it’s needed.”
Their faces brightened and they tore off. Briefly, Ross closed his eyes. God, that was close. For a moment he thought he’d lost Tilly for good. If that had been on his conscience… Ross shuddered. The whistle sounded and with a glance at Harry, who was stacking the soccer cones, he refocused on the pitch. Viv needed his eyes.
He found himself drawn into the game, yelling instructions where needed. Cameron managed a successful header, equalizing the score.
Back and forth the ball went, from one goal area to the other, possession equally divided now that Tilly was marking their star out of the game. Scowling, the older kid tried everything to shake her—feinting, ducking and sprinting down the sideline. But Attila chased him down. Ross grinned.
A pass meant for Blondie bounced off her calves. His scowl darkened and the boy stopped in the opposition’s goal area to snarl something at Tilly. He towered over her by at least six inches. About to intervene, Ross saw his niece’s eyes turn flinty and prayed she didn’t deck the kid. Blondie’s goalie drifted forward to listen to the argument.
Ross glanced at his watch…one minute to go. They might just get a draw out of this.
Midfield the ball deflected off an opposition player and soared toward the Small-Stars goal. Seeing the danger, Blondie stopped arguing with Tilly and ran forward to intercept. His goalie scampered back to defend. By the time Blondie regained control of the ball, Tilly was in his face again, two feet in front of him. He kicked the ball as hard as he could toward his goal line—straight at her.
Tilly scrunched her eyes closed and stood her ground. The ball smacked her square in the forehead and rebounded forward into the Small-Stars goal, taking the other team’s goalie completely by surprise. Hell, it took everybody by surprise, including the scorer.
“Does that count?” Viv yelled, but the kids were already answering, screaming in excitement while Tilly stood astonished, a big red circle forming on her forehead. A grin split the girl’s face.
“I scored!” she hollered. “I scored the winning goal!”
Choking up with pride, Ross wondered how one of the worst days of his life could hold one of his best moments. “Cycle of life, buddy,” he told Harry, who—perplexed by all the screeching—had drawn closer to his uncle.
Tilly was going to be insufferable tonight.
She came running over. “Did you see me, Uncle Ross, did you see me do that header?”
He laughed. Is that what you called it? “Yeah, honey, I saw…Meredith wants you.”
The teams lined up to shake hands, the other coach standing aside. Ross watched as Viv strode over and forced a handshake out of him, still showing the kids good sportsmanship.
If she hadn’t challenged Ross…if she’d let him walk away, the outcome would have been so different. Thank God for Viv, he thought fervently. And she was right.
It was up to the survivors to coax meaning from Lee’s and Steve’s deaths. His role was behind the scenes now, preparing other one-percenters. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was time to suck it up.
He looked at Viv and breathed deeply. It felt like the first breath in seventeen months that had oxygen in it. How could he not love this woman with her insane courage and her capacity to push him in every direction he’d resisted going…?
Hadn’t he always been a sucker for punishment?
* * *
“Meredith.”
After eight days, Viv responded easily to her sister’s name but she continued to pack the trunk because it was Ross and she needed a moment to brace herself. With the teams dispersing and Harry and Tilly strapped into the car ready to go, she was technically alone with him.
Guess it was her turn to be brave.
The trunk was full of the detritus of a soccer mom. Dirty boots, damp socks, a shin guard, a first-aid kit with Harry’s unraveled bandage bulging out of it, a plastic bag with a soiled diaper tied up securely and ready for discard, the clean diaper bag, towels, snacks, extra drink bottle, umbrellas, anoraks, sunblock—
“Viv,” Ross said quietly, and the weight he gave to her name made her heart kick like a scared rabbit’s. By acknowledging she loved him, Viv had handed this man a gun.
“Viv.” Reluctantly, she turned.
“You wanna come back to our house, Uncle Ross?” Tilly yelled through the open passenger window. “She’s gonna do her cartwheel again ’cause it’s such a big celebration.”
Oh, dear, God. A blush burned her cheeks. “Ross is probably too busy, honey.”
“You don’t want me to?” Surely that wasn’t nervousness in his voice? She eyed him warily.
“If you want to, you can come,” she ventured. “But don’t feel you have to.” She shrugged. “If you don’t want to.” She had no idea how to act around a guy she loved.
“Til?” Ross called. “Can you ask your aunt if she still likes me?”
Viv blinked. “What?”
“When a boy likes a girl and he’s too scared to ask if she likes him,” Ross said seriously, “he gets a friend to do it for him. Ask her, Attila.”
“But I already know the answer,” came the airy reply.
“I don’t,” said Ross. He hesitated. “Have I blown it, Viv?”
“Can you be more explicit?” she said cautiously.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wait for more privacy?”
Did he intend that as a double entendre or did she just have a dirty mind?
Viv looked at him helplessly and, with an exclamation, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He’d kissed her before of course, but always with an element of self-control.
This kiss had none of that. It was even a little clumsy, as though it mattered terribly to him, as though Ross was investing everything in it. Enthralled, she wound her arms around his neck and matched his passion.
Ross jerked backward so fast he yanked her hair, which was tangled in his fingers. Viv’s eyelids flew open and she found herself staring into Charlie’s blazing eyes before he turned and slammed his fist into Ross’s stunned face. “You bastard,” he roared as Ross fell. “How long have you been sleeping with my wife?”
Charlie bent to grab Ross’s T-shirt and raised his fist again. Viv dived forward and seized her brother-in-law’s arm. “Charlie, no!”
With Viv hanging off his arm, he swung his foot toward his brother’s ribs, but Ross rolled free. “It’s not what you think, mate.”
Tilly and Harry were screaming in the car, and blood streamed from Ross’s nose as he grabbed the tow bar and hauled himself to his feet.
“And, you!” Charlie yanked his arm free of Viv’s restraining grip. “How could I have trusted you again? How…?” His voice broke. With another bellow he lunged at Ross, who wrestled his brother into a bear hug.
“Charlie,” he shouted, “she’s not Meredith, she’s Viv.” Blood from his nose splattered across the other man’s business shirt.
But Charlie was beyond hearing. With a grunt of effort he started to break out of Ross’s hold. In desperation, Viv jumped on his back, so all three were locked in a grotesque hug. “You’re terrifying the kids, Charlie,” she yelled in his ear. “Not in front of the kids.”
He stopped struggling. Viv slid off his back and nearly fell over. One hand on the car for balance, she stumbled around to the passenger door to comfort the hysterical kids, waving reassurance to other parents and kids.
“It’s okay,” she called automatically. “It’s a mistake… I’m not Meredith. Everything’s fine.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Kids, it’s okay,” she wept, wrestling the upset children out of their seat belts and soothing them with hugs. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
In Ross’s arms, Charlie started to sob. “How could you do this to me…you’re my brother.”
Ross tightened his embrace. “She’s not Meredith,” he repeated helplessly over and over again, ignoring the metallic taste of blood every time he opened his mouth. “Charlie, she’s Viv, not Meredith.”
At last the message penetrated. Charlie pulled away, his face smeared with Ross’s blood and his own tears. “Viv?” he said, dazed.
“It’s Viv, buddy, I would never make a move on Meredith, you know I wouldn’t.”
“But Viv’s in New York.”
Ross shook his head. “She’s here. Now.”
Pushing free, Charlie buried his face into his shaking hands. “Oh, God,” he rasped. “What have I done?” He raised his head. “When I got out of the taxi and saw you locked in each other’s arms, I…” He frowned. “But why is she wearing Merry’s soccer-coaching uniform?”
* * *
Charlie took Merry’s car, he took the kids. He didn’t look back.
Ross found a towel in his gym bag and, using the faucet in the kids’ playground, cleaned off the blood as best he could, refusing Viv’s help.
As soon as he’d walked out of her sight, he’d slammed his fist into the wall of one of the prefab classrooms. Now his hand hurt, too, along with his leg, his nose, his cheek, his bruised eye.
He still couldn’t believe his stupidity in giving in to his feelings for Viv in a public car park, while she was in character as Meredith. Some covert operator he was.
Charlie had caught an earlier flight to surprise his daughter at her big game. Instead he’d found his brother lip-locked with his wife.
Now Ross had blown it for everybody…himself included.
Not only did Charlie intend to start divorce proceedings against Meredith, he never wanted to see Viv again and he never wanted to see Ross. It had been like looking into Linda’s eyes. He saw the same chilling hostility, the same ruthless rejection.
“You’re no longer my brother.”
“Here,” said Viv, and he lifted his face out of the towel to see her holding out a packet of frozen peas. “I found some money in your console and bought them from the convenience store across the road.”
Neither of them had said much since Charlie drove off. Both were too shell-shocked.
“Thanks.” Ross pressed the package to his nose and wished it could numb him all the way through. He seemed to have experienced more emotions in this single day than he had over the rest of his life, and he was spent.
“I’ve been thinking about how we’re going to fix this.” Peas held to his swelling eye, he stared at Viv with his good eye. Somewhere in the skirmish, her ponytail had been knocked sideways, giving her a skewed look. She was pale, tearstained and disheveled in Meredith’s track pants. And the oversized white Small-Stars T-shirt was rainbow-stained from gummy snakes.
She still had the whistle around her neck and he loved her so much his brain hurt.
But seeing that evangelical fervor in her brown eyes—a fervor that had led to this mess, that had recently cost him his brother—was too damn much. Right now, he wished Viv Jansen a thousand miles away.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “You’re with me on this, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you get it? There’s nothing left to save. We’ve screwed up everyone’s life—your sister’s, my brother’s, their kids’.” He pressed the peas to his face. Charlie. “Haven’t we done enough damage?”
“So, what? We walk away and leave them at Ground Zero? You must see that’s not an option.”
“All I see is someone who never learns her lesson.”
“Ross—”
“No,” he said. “Neither of us is interfering again.”
“Neither of us,” she said dangerously.
He wasn’t in the mood for diplomacy. “Let me rephrase that. If you want to go screw something else up, you are going on your own.” A low blow. They both knew she had no car, no money and no choice but to go home with him.
Viv’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” she said tartly. “That’s how I prefer to live anyway. Alone.” She marched off, her crooked ponytail swinging like an angry cat’s tail.
Oh, for God’s sake. “You can’t walk to Hamilton,” he bellowed after her.
“I’ve got a thumb,” she said. “I’ll hitchhike as soon as I get to a main road.”
“Don’t be so bloody silly, woman.”
She used other fingers to give him the bird.
Ross cursed until he’d colored the school grounds blue. Goddamn it! If he wasn’t so furious with himself, with her, if he wasn’t so gut-wrenchingly sick over Charlie he might have seen the funny side.
She was walking the wrong way.
Storming back to the SUV, he climbed in, tossed the peas into the passenger seat and turned the air-conditioning on full. Tempted as he was to leave her to it, he knew he’d given up that choice half an hour ago. Ross started the engine. If this was love he didn’t like it.
He caught up to her at the intersection of Flower and Main, and curb-crawled beside her with the driver’s window down. “Okay,” he called. “You win—I’ll help you. What are we doing?”
She stopped and Ross pulled over. “We’ll take Merry home, grab the kids and leave her and Charlie to thrash out the issue alone,” she said. “See, I can stop interfering.” She looked pissy and defiant and so endearing with that ridiculous ponytail.
“It’s a good plan,” he said quietly. “Hop in.”
“Move over and I’ll drive. Coltrane, you’re a mess.”
Ross hated being driven. Dan’s wife, Jo, thought he had a thing against being driven by women, but he got twitchy with anyone else in the driving seat. He’d been the patrol’s driver, behind the wheel when an IED—improvised explosive device—detonated under the Dumvee, throwing Lee into the path of the enemy and trapping Steve in a fiery death.
He looked at Viv and moved over without protest. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done and she didn’t even register the sacrifice. She jumped in the driver’s seat, graunched the gears… “I’m used to automatic”…and immediately pulled onto the wrong side of the road.
“Left-side drive,” Ross reminded her, and she veered over to a cacophony of horn blasts from oncoming traffic.
Reclining the passenger seat, he lay back with a towel and covered his face with the frozen peas.
“Wake me up when we get to Hamilton.”