Chapter 27 Joanie
Joanie
We passed two glorious days as tourists, exploring the vibrant harbor of Ciutadella, browsing markets, and popping into the cooling Gothic cathedral when the sun became too intense.
We feasted on fried potatoes, tangy olives, and cured meats.
Kieran held my hand the whole time we roamed together, and it felt exhilarating but at the same time natural, as though we were meant to be holding hands.
As though everything was the way it was supposed to be.
In the evenings we went to the beach to swim and watch the sunset before falling into bed together.
No sex. Just long, delicious make-out sessions, touching, and talking.
I had the sense he was waiting for me to initiate more, and I would, when it felt right.
I sat on the sidelines watching Kieran play with the local kids.
He kicked the ball between the group of excited young children, showing off tricks on a rough patch of dirt beyond the villa.
The late-afternoon sun bathed him in a honeyed glow.
The wind gently rustled the tall grass and wildflowers, and the last of the sun’s heat warmed the back of my neck.
“He looks like a kid again.”
The low voice made me jump. I spun to see Ramirez. I’d seen his flashy McLaren parked on the drive this morning, but we’d been out all day and hadn’t had a chance to catch up.
He held his arms out to hug me. “Hello again, Joanie. How are you getting on with your legacy?”
I smiled. “One day at a time.”
“Very good, and how is Mr. Earnshaw?” He turned his attention back to the pitch and laughed as Kieran got tackled to the dirt by a group of boys. “I’ve never seen him so relaxed. It must be you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. I thought I almost caught him smile earlier.”
“A smile from Kieran? You must have been imagining it.”
He laughed. “He looks a tough guy, but that’s only the outside. Look after him, won’t you?”
I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. “We’re just . . .” What were we? Teammates? Friends with benefits? Lovers? “Friends.”
Ramirez raised a teasing eyebrow. “If you say so.”
Before I could reply, a child pelted from the pitch, grabbed Ramirez by the hand, and dragged him away to play.
“Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder.
A knot of anxiety rose in my throat. “Maybe later.”
Ramirez nodded and jogged off to play. His control of the ball could leave you swooning, but it was Kieran I couldn’t take my eyes off.
Laughter wrapped around me, and my heart pounded with the buzz of excitement.
The wild terrain made the ball go all over.
Nobody cared. It didn’t matter. This was football in its purest form.
No cameras. No performance. This was just joy.
Two of the most talented footballers of all time were playing right in front of me.
The little Joanie inside was doing cartwheels.
A young boy tackled Kieran, and the two of them fell over, laughing.
Kieran leapt to his feet and dusted himself down.
I longed to be the same way. To have his guts and confidence.
A hot, frustrated feeling made me feel heavy inside.
I wanted to bounce back from my injury and carry on like nothing had happened.
There wasn’t a single opponent I’d ever come across on the pitch that gave me more trouble than myself.
The game stretched on into the evening. Ramirez broke off from the group and jogged over to me.
He planted his hands on his thighs. I kept my gaze trained on Kieran as he darted down the field, his breath escaping him in hard snatches.
The last time he’d been breathing this heavily, we were up on the balcony.
A hot flush crept up the back of my neck.
“These kids are killing me.” A swath of gray hair fell over Ramirez’s sweaty forehead. He shot me a casual glance. “It’s fun though. Fancy joining us yet?”
Another young boy tried to tackle Kieran, and Kieran effortlessly held the kid at bay before he eventually relented and passed him the ball.
I swallowed. “I don’t think so.”
Ramirez scratched at a spot of dirt on his cheek. “You’re scared to play?”
This explained why Kieran and Ramirez were friends.
Ramirez didn’t care about asking direct questions either.
Kieran headed the ball into the net. A sudden well of emotion knotted in my throat.
I wanted to be better. I wanted the joy on these kids’ faces.
Most of all, I wanted to be playing with two football legends.
But I couldn’t risk reinjuring myself. I’d worked too long and hard for that.
I wrapped my arms around myself. Who wanted to admit weakness to their hero?
“Yes, but I’m working on it. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
“When you step back on the pitch, it won’t be because your fear is gone.” He kept his eyes on Kieran. “It will be because you have courage. Courage is turning to the fear, looking it in the eye, and carrying on regardless.”
He gestured to the children laughing and messing about passing the ball among themselves.
“Watch these kids play. They know everything we need to learn. When I was a young man, I wanted to be the best. Winning was all that mattered. Now I just want to run like the little kid who played barefoot on the streets of S?o Paulo. That was my joy. This is a game. Even if I don’t play professionally anymore, I still play.
” He nudged me in the ribs. “It is a joy to play. No matter what happens in this life, always protect the things that bring you joy. You will be OK, Joanie. I know it.”
The scent of turf brought with it a slew of unwelcome memories. I pushed them away. I wanted to have fun again. No pressure. Just a group of kids and two men who I admired. This was what football was about. At the start it had been a game. It had given me a kind of joy I’d found nowhere else.
“Joanie!”
Daniel crossed the ball, and it flew toward me.
I didn’t have the chance to take a breath before the ball was at my feet.
My first real touch on a ball in front of an open field in nine months.
I held the ball under my foot, rolling it slowly on the grass, getting used to the sensation again.
A gentle caress between the ball and the earth.
I looked up to see Kieran watching me. He didn’t say a word, but I could see the concern on his face.
He was worried about me. That’s what anxiety did.
Its poisonous tendrils spread into everyone around you.
My heart fluttered and my guts churned, but something electric sizzled inside of me.
Kieran’s words from the plane drifted back.
What if this nervous feeling inside was actually excitement?
What if I showed these kids what I’d got?
A charge of determination shot through me.
Screw it. I flicked the ball into the air.
Adrenaline thrummed through my body. I started slow, keeping the ball dancing between my knees.
The children’s noise around me faded as my mind fell into a bright, focused fixation.
I wouldn’t let this ball touch the ground.
I kept the ball bouncing between my knees, my chest, and my head.
The kids gathered around to watch. Kieran clapped and some other boy joined him, but a couple called out in Spanish and shuffled impatiently.
Tough luck. They could wait. This was my ball.
I’d spent too long without it. It wouldn’t hurt to wait.
“Hey, lady, pass the ball.”
Nope. Not done yet. Now I’d had a touch, I couldn’t let it go.
Kieran barked some words in Spanish and the kids fell silent and shuffled back.
I flicked the ball high, tricking them into thinking it was coming back into play before rolling it back.
Balancing on one foot, I did a knee spin, keeping the ball in the air.
I lifted my head, a smile spreading on my face. “If you want the ball. Come and get it.”
A few of the kids exchanged glances.
“She’s challenging you lot.” Kieran spoke to the boys in a fast stream of Spanish and drew closer. “Good bloody luck getting it off her.”
The boys nudged each other and laughed. Then they came at me one by one.
The tallest of the group tried to tackle the ball from me, but I held him at bay easily.
I manipulated the ball, passing it between my feet, feeling all these once-familiar moves coming back to me.
I’d been messing about with a ball since I was a kid.
This was second nature. It was catching my favorite childhood song on the radio and delighting in the fact I still knew all the lyrics. This was a joy, lost and reclaimed.
Another boy lunged at me with a flying tackle.
I skipped over him with the ball at my feet, past his friend and another two kids.
The kids continued to fly at me, but I dribbled past them.
I looked up to see Kieran watching me with an odd expression.
One side of his mouth lifted upward. The closest I’d seen him come to a smile.
Another kid came at me. I kept the ball out of his reach with my eyes still fixed on Kieran.
The kid who was trying to tackle me gave up and slouched away.
The makeshift goal made of water bottles and hoodies was empty and unguarded. I set off at a sprint, threading the ball through Ramirez’s legs, pulling off a nutmeg. The kids laughed and applauded, but the noise faded quickly as I pelted away.