Chapter 21 Carla
Carla
The friendly game we play at the stadium is the most fun I’ve had in ages.
It transports me to my high school days, when I would meet up with El Tanque, Risitas, and Guapo.
Oh, we would play well into the night hours, our teasing, quick and witty, our energy, boundless.
And our love for the game, deep and true.
It was the thread that bound us together and created memories that I treasure.
They flood the forefront of my mind now.
And I note the same is true for Luca, Ale, and Andrés.
The three of them met at a fútbol academy when they were tweens.
They grew into the players, the men, that they are today, together.
They came up through the ranks leaning on each other.
And now, they play with a familiarity that most never achieve in their careers.
Tonight, they play with sweet nostalgia.
As we remember our youth, we watch the girls come together in a moment that they’ll recall for the rest of their lives.
Skills are developed on the field but so are friendships.
Tonight, the joy of the moment, the excitement of playing in League Valencia’s stadium, kicking the ball around with professional players they’ve admired for years, binds the girls together.
It strengthens team spirit, heightens their camaraderie and belonging to the squad, and hypes them up for their first playoff game.
When our game ends, with Ale’s team winning, of course, the girls cheer and high-five each other and the guys.
“This was the best night of my life,” Anna breathes out.
Ale laughs as Andrés grips her shoulder and gives it a little shake. “We’ve got one more surprise for you girls,” Andrés admits, grinning at Luca.
“What?” Julieta asks.
“Well, Luca was the one who set tonight up,” Ale says slowly.
“And we thought it only fair to thank him in true League Valencia style,” Andrés continues.
Luca shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not necessary.”
Ale nods. “It is.” He points to a bench along the sideline that has four large orange water coolers on it. “Get him, girls.”
The girls’ eyes widen before they take off at a run, struggling to lift the coolers. They chase Luca around the pitch until they corner him. Then, they dump liter after liter of water on him as he hollers and laughs, contorting his body to avoid the water.
But it’s no use; he’s sopping wet in seconds.
The girls cheer and clap for him as he tries to toss water back at them.
Andrés joins in as Ale steps beside me. My brother wraps an arm around my neck and gives me a side hug. “You did good this year, Carlita. They’re a fantastic group and you’re a great coach.”
I glance up at Alejandro. “Thank you.”
He flips his chin toward Luca. “What’s going on with you two?”
I bite my bottom lip, not sure how to answer that question.
Ale sighs. “He doesn’t do casual, Carla. He’s not one of your regular go-to guys that you can wake up one morning and decide you’re done with because he has a remote-control caddy.”
I snort. “I know that.”
“You’re my sister and he’s my best friend.”
“Yeah.”
My brother glances at me. “Is this a thing?”
“I think so…” I murmur. “But it’s too early to tell.”
Ale squeezes me closer for a beat, nearly strangling me. “I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”
“Of course not.”
“So, be smart. Be good to each other.” He gives me a long, searching look. “And I’m going to leave it there tonight.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re going to leave it there?”
Ale releases me. “Yes. I learned my lesson after Vale and Avery married. You’re my sister, Carla, and I’ll always have your back. But you’re also an annoyingly smart and capable woman. You don’t need me to meddle in your life as much as you need me to be here for you. So, I’m here.”
I nod, relieved that he’s not delving deeper. It’s unlike me not to have a sassy retort but…I glance at Luca. He’s still clowning around with the girls before calling a group huddle. Whatever he shares causes them to hop up and down with excitement.
He’s such a good fucking guy. One I’ve admired and longed for from afar for years. He orchestrated this whole evening to surprise my team. To do something sweet for me.
Can I really create a future with such a selfless, generous man? Can we move forward without causing each other pain? Or heartache? Can I be good to him the way he’s so effortlessly wonderful to me?
A ring of cheers sounds and the girls rush toward me. Following their line of vision, I turn in time to see League Valencia’s mascot, óscar, take the field. His arms are filled with jerseys and I shake my head in disbelief.
Luca had personalized jerseys made for all the girls with their last names and numbers on the back.
He steps beside me and bumps his shoulder against mine. “You okay?”
“You didn’t have to do this. It’s too much,” I protest as the girls show off their new jerseys.
“It’s not,” he murmurs. “For you, Carla, it’s not nearly enough.”
Then, he walks toward the girls as they rush him, throwing their arms around him in gratitude. He hugs them, huddling them up for a team photo with óscar.
“Get in here, campionessa,” he calls out to me, pointing to the spot beside óscar.
“Yeah! Come on, Coach,” Anna echoes.
Grinning, I join the girls, throw an arm around the orange’s back, and smile for a photo.
After the flash, my eyes find Luca’s. He’s looking at me with such sincerity that emotion swells in my throat.
Do I truly deserve his care? Am I worthy of it?
The truth is I don’t know. But I want to be.
The day before our first playoff game, I cancel the girls’ afternoon practice. Instead, I give them strict instructions to stretch, eat a good meal, and get a solid night’s sleep.
Between our late night at the stadium earlier in the week and a consistent series of tough practices, they need a night off. And I know they’re ready for tomorrow.
Luca’s traveling with his team until early tomorrow morning, Mamá and Papá are in Knoxville visiting Valentina, and Marlowe is resting now that the Sewing Circle has returned to Rhode Island.
With nothing pressing to do, I head to Abuela’s. She pulls her door open and beams when she sees me.
“Come in,” she says in Spanish. “I have horchata con fartons,” she rattles off the refreshing local drink and sugary pastries that are a staple in her household.
As children, Valentina and I would race here after school to eat fartons and tell Abuela about our day.
Our parents were often traveling with Alejandro for his fútbol schedule and Abuela stepped in to provide us with a slice of stability.
Maybe that’s why I find myself here today, sitting in the same kitchen, devouring the same treats from my childhood.
“?Qué pasa?” Abuela asks, correctly reading my mood. What’s up?
I shake my head, thanking her for the horchata she places in front of me. “Nothing.”
“Carlita,” she murmurs, sitting beside me.
“I canceled practice today to give the girls the afternoon off. Our first playoff game is tomorrow.”
“I know. I’ll be there.” Abuela grins. “I bought pompoms.”
“Gracias.”
“Your parents are disappointed to miss it, but Alejandro will be there. And Luca too?” she questions, keeping her tone light. But the shrewdness in her eyes is a dead giveaway. She’s onto me.
Playing it casual, I reply, “I think so.”
“Hm,” Abuela remarks. “He’s a good boy, that Luca.”
“One of the best men I know.”
“He’s really committed to helping you with your game, with your coaching, with finding your footing back in Valencia.”
“He is…”
Abuela smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes. “A man like him, well, he’s a keeper, Carla.”
“I know what you’re trying to say, Abuelita.”
“I’m not trying to say anything. I am saying that Luca DiBlanco is a fantastic catch. And he’s sweet on you.”
I laugh. “Maybe. But I’m focused on my team right now. And then, trying to make a club team here. I don’t have time for—”
“Real love doesn’t follow your timetable.”
“I’ve known Luca for years,” I toss out, wanting to keep this conversation on the surface.
“Exactly. There’s history there. He knows your family; you understand his past.” Abuela ticks these items off using her fingers.
“Abuela, we’re just…spending time together.”
“Hm. I’ve heard that before.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You don’t get extra chances with a man like Luca. He’s experienced too much loss, too much sorrow, to risk his heart on silly flings. He’s a man of honor, of loyalty, of commitment.”
I avert my gaze. I know she’s right but…I don’t know what she expects me to say in response.
Apparently nothing because she reaches out and pats the back of my hand. “He’s a very good boy. He deserves a good woman.”
My head snaps up and my eyes find hers.
Her eyes blaze with amusement, truth, and an edge of severity. “That woman could be you, Carlita. If you’re brave enough.” She pushes the plate of fartons closer to me. “Here, have another one.”
I take one and stuff it into my mouth just so I don’t have to say anything else. I’m beginning to regret coming here. Maybe I should have passed by álvaro’s and hung out with his cats. He never would have broached this topic with me.
But as Abuela begins to fill me in on the latest episode of Las Islas de las Tentaciones, I can’t help but turn her words over in my mind.
He’s a very good boy.
He deserves a good woman.
That woman could be you, Carlita.
Honor. Loyalty. Commitment.
Abuela’s insight mixes with Alejandro’s two cents.
He doesn’t do casual, Carla.
The implication was there, left unsaid. And you don’t do serious.
But could I?
Could I be the woman Luca risks his heart for? Can I take on that responsibility and live up to it? Can I give him the same commitment, loyalty, and…love that he offers me?
I sip my horchata, my mind spinning.
God, I want to. But is it possible while also trying to secure a position on a club team? While striving to make the national team?
For years, I’ve been driven to succeed at soccer. It was the most important thing in my life and it came before everything else—relationships, friendships, academics.
This year, coming home to Valencia shone a spotlight on everything my life was lacking: a partner, creating a family, settling down.
While I often yearn for those things, I’m not ready to chase them at the expense of my professional dreams. I want another chance to prove to myself that I have what it takes to play soccer professionally.
That losing my spot on the Chicago Tornadoes was not the final nail in the coffin of my career. That it spawned a new beginning.
Can I have that and Luca?
Or do I have to choose?
And if I do…which path do I pick?