24

THE NETS, POLES, pads, antennas, and ever-elusive crank were put away in the storage room until the first postholiday practice. With a wave good-bye and a laugh from Chandler, the team’s setter, the gym quieted.

I tugged at the bottom of my damp T-shirt, which clung to my skin. The last two hours had gone by so fast, something I hadn’t experienced since high school. Being on the court and scrimmaging with a group of girls. Laughing and encouraging one another. Being part of a team, even if it was only for tonight.

Sydney shrugged into her coat. “What were you and Katelyn talking about after practice?”

“She was frustrated because she felt like she hadn’t played as well as she wanted to the last couple of practices —like she was missing too many blocks.”

“So what did you tell her?”

“I told her I remember feeling the same way. That everybody has off days. And that you just have to work through them. Keep showing up. That she’s a good volleyball player.”

“You’re doing a great job with the girls, Payton.”

“Just telling them what you told us.” I dug my car keys out of my purse as Sydney tried to juggle the multiple cards and gifts the girls had given her when practice ended. “Do you need any help with all of that?”

“Thanks, but I can manage.” Sydney set the bags on the metal bleachers and stuffed the cards into her purse.

Why did the days after Thanksgiving and leading up to Christmas always seem to be in fast-forward? While Christmas Day loomed too close, Thanksgiving was the flash of a memory, the scaled-down dinner with just my parents and Jillian squeezed in between Festivities events. Johanna had spent the long weekend with Beckett in Wyoming. My oldest sister’s absence meant a reprieve from our emotional standoff. Geoff’s absence meant no running string of jokes punctuated by bursts of laughter.

With a quick shake of my head, I returned to my conversation with Sydney. “I remember Christmas seasons with the team. The annual party —”

“Those are always fun. We’re going out of town this year to visit my husband’s family, so we’re going to do a team party after the New Year. You’re invited, you know.”

“Thanks.” I nodded toward the pile of gifts. “I would assume you’re restocked on your gift cards for the next few months.”

“I hope so.”

“Pepper and I usually opted for Starbucks.” The small memory from our former volleyball years was pleasant, not painful.

“Believe me, I appreciated every single one of those gift cards.”

“This looks a lot like the gifts I’ve gotten for my family.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “This? What do you mean?”

“Gift cards. All gift cards.”

With a loud metallic click, the lights in the gym shut off, dousing Sydney and me in darkness and signaling us to move to the rec center lobby.

Sydney picked up the conversation again. “Is work so busy you don’t have time to go Christmas shopping?”

I wasn’t about to go into the long, drawn-out why. “Yes, but also I’m just not a good shopper.”

“It’s not that hard. I mean, shopping does take time, of course.”

“Agreed.”

“Have a little fun with me here.” Sydney dumped her armload of bags and her purse on the lobby counter.

“How, exactly?” I rubbed at the stiff muscle in my right shoulder. How many times had I served the volleyball?

“Tell me something about your dad. What does he do? What does he like?”

“My dad? He likes to grill out. And he’s a die-hard Broncos fan.”

“Then you buy him a chef’s apron with a funny saying. Or a Broncos T-shirt.” She cut me off when I started to say something. “Doesn’t matter how many T-shirts he has. Football fans can always use one more. Did you ever count up how many volleyball T-shirts you had?”

“Good point.”

“What about your mom?”

That was easy. “She collects carnival glass. And she likes to bake.”

“Easy again. A nice piece of carnival glass. Or a cookbook.”

“I don’t suppose it matters that she has a gazillion cookbooks.”

“Nope —kind of like T-shirts. Buy her a bestseller. Sisters?”

There was no need to mention Johanna wasn’t speaking to me. “My oldest sister likes vintage jewelry. A bracelet or earrings?”

“See? You’re catching on.”

I paused, envisioning Jillian’s office. “I just found out Jillian likes watercolors. She had a collection of abstract hearts in her office at work.”

“That’s unusual. Check out Etsy online.”

“I’m familiar with Etsy. Kimberlee and I use it for some of our parties.”

Sydney tried her best not to look shocked. “Then why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because I didn’t make the connection between Etsy and Christmas shopping?”

Sydney accepted my more than lame excuse. “Well, now you have.”

For years, Sydney had coached me about volleyball. And now she was coaching me on gift giving. I was twenty-six years old. I should be capable of buying my family Christmas gifts.

“That reminds me . . .” I pulled a red envelope out of my purse. “This is for you.”

Sydney laughed as she tucked it in among the other envelopes. “Starbucks?”

“If I tell you, it’s as good as you peeking at a gift before Christmas.”

“True. I just figured you were consistent.”

“Well, maybe I surprised you and went with a Chick-fil-A gift card.”

“I happen to love Chick-fil-A.”

“Who doesn’t?”

The lights in the lobby dimmed, and Sydney regathered her things to lead us outside. The winter air fingered the damp hair on my neck. The dark sky overhead sparkled with hundreds of tiny white stars. But instead of heading to her car, Sydney matched me step for step to mine.

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Just promise me that you’ll think about it for a few days before you give me an answer.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it. And the question is?”

“You know club season starts in a couple of weeks. I was wondering if you’d consider being a backup assistant coach for the sixteens team.”

“What? Did Alex quit or something?” Even as I asked, my chest tightened.

It was just a question. I could say yes. Or no. Sydney couldn’t force me to say yes. There was no reason to struggle to catch my breath.

“No, she didn’t quit. But it looks like she’ll be traveling with her job this spring, so she’s not sure how many games she’ll be able to get to. We’ve been talking, and we thought you could come to practices and be another assistant coach.”

I leaned back against my car and gripped the door handle, the metal cold against my fingers. “But I’ve only come to a few practices . . . and I haven’t really done volleyball in years. . . .”

“The girls like you, Payton. And you know volleyball. And remember, you promised to think about it.” Sydney paused. “You okay?”

I had promised to consider her question. Which meant, as much as I wanted to say, No, absolutely not, I couldn’t. I had to wait at least one day before telling Sydney no.

“Yes. Just hungry. I probably needed to eat and drink a little more before I came tonight.”

“Well, you didn’t know I was going to throw you into the scrimmage against the other team. I’ll let you go. . . . You’ll think about what I said?”

“Yes.” As Sydney wrapped her arms around me, I hugged her back. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Payton. I’m so glad we’ve reconnected.”

“Me, too.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

As much as Sydney said the girls liked me, the truth was, I liked them, too. Walking into the gym and onto a volleyball court with a bunch of enthusiastic teen girls was almost like time traveling. For two hours, I went back ten years to high school, when my life was all volleyball, all the time.

I allowed myself to embrace something I’d walked away from . . . something that, even now, I was afraid to admit I missed. Something I still wanted to be a part of my life.