10. Chapter 10 #2
One older picture shows a group of naked women of various sizes, shapes, and ages dancing around a fire.
Apparently, Tallahassee wasn’t kidding about that.
I spot Tallahassee in the picture. She’s the only one wearing clothes.
She’s maybe four or five years old, arms in the air, a happy smile on her face, her white-blonde hair flowing out behind her.
Another photo from Halloween shows teenage Nash and Tallahassee dressed as flying monkeys, while Patty and Gloria are the Wicked Witch and Glinda from The Wizard of Oz.
I find myself smiling as I take in all the happy family photos.
There are pictures of Nash in the rink as a teenager and more current ones suited up with his team. And of course, photos of both Nash and Tallahassee from the Olympics.
One I recognize immediately. It was taken right after she won that legendary relay race, arm raised high, with that dazzling smile on her face.
A collage of her on the podium receiving her medals.
Another of her poolside holding an American flag behind her, arms stretched wide, her worry-free eyes sparkling under the lights.
Gloria sidles up next to me, glancing at the photos. “She was something to see in the pool.” I can hear the unmistakable grief in her voice. “Even as a little girl, she swam like a fish.
“Our Tallahassee is fiercely independent. She isn’t good at asking for help, even when she needs it.” She pauses, then gives her head a shake and releases a small chuckle. “Especially when she needs it.”
“She’s been through so much,” Gloria continues. “But I see a spark of the old Tallahassee when she’s with you. She’s been smiling more. It’s been way too many years since we’ve seen that.”
Unlike her daughter, I don’t have to pry information out of her, Gloria offers it freely.
“I’m sure you’re aware that after everything happened, Tallahassee picked up and left. Stayed away for years. She disconnected from the world. Distanced herself, even from us. Our contact and details of where she was were sporadic and sketchy at best.
“It left her with a hole in her heart and a serious distrust of men. She hasn’t dated or hung out with anyone in years.” She fixes her unwavering gaze on me. Free spirited Gloria is gone, her face a mask of seriousness. “Which must make you someone special.”
I won’t deny I like hearing that. I’m tempted to ask why Tallahassee left, almost positive Gloria would tell me. But this isn’t the time or place. And Gloria isn’t the one I want to hear it from, so I keep the question to myself.
She disappeared from her home and family for years. After seeing how close they are, it had to be something truly traumatic. I don’t know how much longer I can stay in the dark, not knowing what happened to her.
Gloria places a hand on my arm and waits until my eyes meet hers. Her concern and worry are clearly displayed on her face. “Please don’t hurt her, Darren. Don’t lead her on if you’re only interested in sex or can’t be honest with her. She’s had enough lies in her life already.
“If you unlock her heart again and walk away, she’ll crawl inside herself. And this time, I’m afraid she’ll stay there.”
I’m quick to reassure her. “I’m more than interested in your daughter. I have no intention of leading her on or hurting her. I’ll do everything in my power to protect her. You have my word.”
She studies me intently. Then she smiles and nods, slipping her arm through mine and leading me back outside. “I believe you will. I’ve got a good feeling about you, Darren.” She gives my arm a pat. “I’m rooting for you.”
When we rejoin the group, Tallahassee cocks her head, giving us a suspicious frown. Gloria sits beside Patty, and I take a seat next to Tallahassee.
She doesn’t get the chance to question me since my dad asks about having not one, but two professional athletes in the family.
Tallahassee responds, but her blue eyes cloud with that familiar sadness. “They drove us to every practice, every meet, every game. No matter how early they had to get up.”
“It was a lot of early mornings getting Nash to the rink and Tallahassee to the pool,” Gloria admits.
It has to be hard for Tallahassee to listen to or talk about. The dedication and effort she put in to become an Olympic-level athlete, just to have it taken from her. Not because she wasn’t good enough, but for some other reason.
Like becoming a SEAL, Olympic athletes are a small, elite group that takes a lot of hard work and determination to become a part of. If I was stripped of my Trident and couldn’t be a SEAL anymore, I’d be devastated. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself or who I’d be without it.
I notice Tallahassee’s hands are clutched in her lap, her fingers twisting together.
Taking a chance, I reach under the table and grasp the one closest to me, tangling our fingers together.
Her hand is warm in mine, and it feels right.
Natural. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she seems to relax.
She glances at our clasped hands, then focuses those blue eyes up at me.
“But we traded off so we keep up with both of them,” Patty continues, breaking the spell between Tallahassee and me.