Chapter 44 A Really Bossy Lady
Forty-Four. A really bossy lady
Patrick, January
“Tamara.”
“Daddy.”
“Baby, we talked about this.”
“We talked about a lot of things. You have to be more specific.”
“No work. You promised.”
“I’m not working. I’m sitting on my perfect ass and being a really good girl.”
I sigh for what feels like the hundredth time at the picture of faux innocence staring back at me.
If there’s one thing Tamara isn’t, it’s a good girl but it’s impossible to police her movements when I’m so far away.
At least we’re in the same country, but the distance is starting to wear on me.
We’re only ten days into the new year and the LHT schedule, ten days I’ve already been away from Tamara and our unborn child.
“You’re covered in paint, my love.”
She gasps and looks at herself in shock. “Oh my god, Daddy, I’m covered in paint.”
A heap of colours are splattered on her face, hair and shoulders. I’m sure I saw some down the front of the T-shirt she’s wearing—one of mine, obviously—and her hands also have every colour of the rainbow.
A laugh bursts out of me and she grins, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “What are you doing, Lo?”
“Okay, I am working. But I promise, I’m mostly sitting and bossing everyone around.” I sigh and she huffs, crossing her arms dramatically. “I’m bored, okay? I can’t work, I can’t sleep and I miss you. I’m trying not to be stressed about the baby, but it’s really hard. When do you come home?”
My heart clenches at the pain in her voice.
This is the first time she’s letting me see how much my absence affects her.
When I left earlier this month, she was unfazed.
The whole drive to the airport, she told me about her plans for when I’m gone.
The day after, she was still fine and while the calls and texts haven’t been as frequent as I’d like, we’ve been talking.
Now I can see how much it’s weighing on her.
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry. I know this is the worst time for me to be away and I hate that I’m not there for you.” She shakes her head, but I know she’s miserable. “Lotus.”
“I’m fine!” she squeaks and then giggles before meeting my eyes. “I painted the baby’s room. Not by myself, I promise! Millie and Vera helped. They did most of the work and I told them what they’re doing wrong.”
“You’re marrying a really bossy lady, Patrick!” a voice says from somewhere and I smile.
“Wouldn’t want to marry anyone else,” I call back and Tamara beams.
“Good boy,” she whispers and then waves her hand and continues.
“We ordered the rainbow decal and it should be here next week. Varun and Vikram offered to help over the weekend, so I’m going to put them to work.
I’m designing our bedroom and I’ll send you my plans tonight, so you can tell me what you think. ”
“Whatever you want for our room, for this entire house, consider me okay with all of it.”
“Are you sure?” She frowns into the phone, brushing paint-flecked hair out of her face.
“Yeah, baby. But send me what you’ve got and I’ll take a look.”
When her face lights up, I know I did the right thing. She might be confident, badass and well-known for her designs all over the country, but my girl needs confirmation and praise and someone to agree with her. I’m more than happy to be the guy.
“We saw the last match, by the way. Were you stressed?”
I shrug. As a coach, I find myself leaving matters in the hands of my players.
I know what they’re capable of and whether or not they can win these games.
I’ll guide and advise them, I’ll give them ways to beat the opponent, but I’m not on the pitch.
I’m not the one making the calls in the heat of moment.
And while they did beat the West Bengal team, it was a close one.
“I’d say no, but my fellow coaches might say otherwise.”
She smiles. “You ready for the next game?”
“Yeah. I think so? Heard lots about this team and they’ve got a few of my teammates, so they’ll be tough to beat.”
“Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that,” she says and looks away, forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Is Nihal playing?”
“He’s on an even higher horse about this than me,” I say as my business partner, best friend and captain walks into the room.
“I know you’re not talking about me.” He frowns and then peers around my phone and Tamara waves at him. He waves back and then pats me on the shoulder.
They first met when he came to Chennai to celebrate our engagement and then spent the new year with his wife’s family in the city.
They bonded instantly, poking fun at me the whole time.
Whatever makes them happy is fine with me.
Then he surprised me in Rourkela two days ago and being away from Tamara doesn’t hurt as much.
“I know you have to go be Super Hot Hockey Coach,” she teases with a wink, “but I miss you and love you and can’t wait to see you next week.”
“I love you, too. And I’ll be the grinning idiot with hearts in my eyes.”
She laughs and kisses the camera. “Bye, Daddy.”
“Bye, Lo.”
The call disconnects and I exhale loudly, setting my phone down on the table. Nihal’s watching me, but I don’t look. I drag my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands. I hate that she’s sad about us not being together right now.
“The first time away is always the hardest. It’ll get easier,” Nihal says as he drops onto the couch beside me.
I slump back. “How have you been doing this for years, man?”
He chuckles. “I don’t know. There are some really rough days. For the most part I focus on the fact that when it’s all done, I get to go home to her.”
Nihal and his wife have been together for the entirety of his professional hockey career and while they don’t have any kids, their marriage seems stronger than ever.
Tamara and I haven’t even been together a year and I already feel so unhinged with the distance.
Shaking it off, I pop open my laptop and get myself into work mode.
“You’re sure about this?”
Nihal’s practically vibrating as he grins. “This is what we’ve been working our ass off for the last few years.”
I look at the screen and nod slowly. We’re about to submit all the paperwork to register our sports academy.
My heart’s racing way too fast and I know it’s the beginning of a crash, but I ignore it.
Right now, my only focus is on making sure we get this done.
The minute I told him about retiring, Nihal said he was considering it too.
Then we brainstormed ways to keep ourselves involved in sports somehow and came up with The Reach for the Stars Sports Academy.
As an off-shoot of our foundation, it will provide sports training to students at the schools we help out as well as other kids who want a chance to make it big.
Elias and his friends, Bash and Samar, have already agreed to be part of the cricket programme.
Nihal and I’ll handle hockey. We’ve got our eyes on folks for swimming, chess and kabaddi.
I floated the idea of coaching badminton to Nina, but we both know she’s not at that level yet.
However, she was happy to point us towards the right people to help out.
While we wait for approvals, we’re creating a logo and building a website.
We’re also putting out feelers for anyone who might want to help us with marketing and some social media.
Elias recommended Vera’s company, but we can’t afford her services right now.
And I refuse to do this for free, no matter how much it will benefit us.
Besides, it can take anywhere between one week to six months to get anything up and running, so we’re starting the work now instead of waiting until the last minute.
“Here we go,” I say and tap the edge of the mousepad. A grey circle appears, rotating slowly and then big bold text reading Your application has been submitted fills the screen.
Nihal’s on his feet, the Rocky theme song playing from his phone as he bounces in place.
I smile, a laugh bubbling out of me at the same time.
Then everything gets muffled. I’m in a vacuum and my ears strain to latch onto sounds.
I blink slowly, but my vision is blurry and unfocused.
My breaths come out in quick puffs until hands land on my shoulders and everything snaps into place.
I swallow hard and look up at my best friend, my face definitely not doing what I want it to.
I push myself to stand and sway, my hands reaching for anything to hold me up.
Nihal’s saying something, but the words are unclear.
My throat feels dry and my head is heavy.
There’s more talking before I’m flat on my back in a dark room, sheets being pulled over me.
I blink into the empty space and turn onto my side, curling into myself.
I wake with a start and it takes me a minute to remember where I am; everything comes back in a tinted highlight reel.
Talking to Tamara, lunch with Nihal, running through the plays for our next match with the team, final touches with Nihal, submitting our application, then…
nothing. I push the covers back and notice I’m naked, my clothes strewn across the floor.
With a hard scrub of my face, I use the bathroom, then tug everything back on.
My heart isn’t racing anymore and my head feels much lighter.
But I still feel the exhaustion in every muscle of my body.
“And he has risen,” Nihal says as I open the door.
With my hair down to my shoulders people often refer to me as Jesus. I prefer Viking, even if Tamara’s the only one who calls me that.
“Thanks for getting me into bed,” I tell him and chug an entire bottle of water.
“Never have to thank me, Pat. Are you feeling better?”
“Death warmed over, really. What did I miss?”
“Nothing. Since we’ve submitted everything, all we can do now is wait.”
I nod and join him on the couch, another bottle of water in hand. Nihal’s watching me closely, waiting for me to say something.
“You should go home, Pat.”
“After the next match.”
He’s still staring at me, but I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t want to show up haggard and worn down. I don’t want Tamara to see me like this either. We’re weeks away from the baby being born and I want to make this as painless as possible for her.
“Does she know?”
I remember that evening making idiyappam while talking about my episodes, how it scared her to the point where I wish I hadn’t said anything.
However, talking about it with Tamara was the best decision of my life.
She’s seen only one side of it and knows everything else.
What I really go through is something I want to spare her as much as possible.
“She knows.”
“You’re going to show her, right?”
“She’s seen it. A part of it anyway.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re retiring.”
I smile. “Still thinking about it, huh?”
“More and more every day. Nish says she won’t know what to do with me at home all the time.”
We laugh, because that’s probably going to be the hardest thing. At least I’ll have a kid to focus on and while the sports academy will take up a lot of our time, we won’t travel as much as we do now.
Clapping him on the shoulder, I jostle my best friend. “Thank you for being by my side the last fifteen years.”
He rolls his eyes, but I see the emotion in the twitch of his lips. “Someone had to keep an eye on you and fend off the ladies.”
“And you handled the noble task with such grace.”
Nihal snorts and shoves me. “But in all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Pat. And so fucking honoured to have done this together.”
I nod, blinking back tears. I never imagined I’d get so emotional about retiring, but it was my entire life for so long. I’m not sure what every day will look like without it. A year ago, none of this was part of my plan. And now, it’s the only way I know I can move forward with my life.
I thank the driver as he sets my suitcase on the ground and roll my shoulders back.
I’m home. After winning our fourth straight match, I hopped on a plane to Chennai.
It’s a big week for Tamara and me. If everything goes according to plan, our baby will be here in a month.
I’ve been carrying around the 3D scan Dr. Gopalan did where we can see the kid’s face and it’s both weird and comforting at the same time.
I tell Tamara the baby looks like her, but she denies it.
The scan in two days is to make sure the baby is in the right position and Mama’s doing okay on all fronts.
I let myself into the flat quietly and leave my things at the door.
The scent of chocolate floats in the air and I smile.
My girl’s been baking again. As I step into the bedroom, the sound of her snoring reaches me first. Then I get a whiff of her honeysuckle perfume, which settles my soul.
I peel off my clothes and dump them on the floor before crawling into bed with her.
“Trick?”
“I really hope no one else is climbing into our bed with you.”
She snorts and rolls over to face me. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, baby. You doing okay?”
“So much better now that you’re home.”
My eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough I can see her features, so I kiss her forehead and the tip of her nose. She hums and scoots as close as her stomach will let her. I brush my fingers over the bump, smiling when our kid kicks and then press my hand against the spot.
“Are you okay, Trick?”
“I am now.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re home.”
“I love you,” I whisper against her forehead and she mumbles out a response before she’s snoring again.