52. Noah
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
NOAH
RECOMMENDED LISTENING ‘DARE YOU TO MOVE’ BY SWITCHFOOT
I am nervous.
I don’t know why as I walk into the coaches’ office on the second floor of the stadium. It’s a tiny, cramped room – quarter the size of the dressing rooms they’re used to. But they have wedged three desks and filled it with papers and game day tape and playbooks and haha…bobbleheads of themselves.
All three of them are in their office for this official meeting with me.
I was going to request one – come clean about the whole arrangement with Queenie and take my chances with them – when they called me to set it up.
I tug on the black blazer I wear over the simple white Henley and formal pants. Somehow, it helped to dress for the meeting instead of showing up in sweats.
“Aah. Dumaine. You’re on time.” Padric slides off the desk and perches on it instead. “Punctuality is an underrated virtue.”
“So’s honesty,” Rohit intones from behind the middle desk, on a chair.
I just cross my hands in front of me and give them a small smile. I don’t have the capacity for small talk. My eyes are gritty from lack of sleep and my body hurts. I’ve been either practicing or working out. Both Fox and Ares know the short version of what happened and have been real mates about it. And still…
And still it hurts.
“Good morning, sirs,” I begin.
“Kevin Sangster’s a mate of mine from our state league days,” Aiden cuts in casually, crossing his legs at the ankle. He’s checking something on his ever-present clipboard.
Fuck. I try to keep the surprise off my face. Word travels fast in the rarefied atmosphere of professional cricket.
“So, it’s true then,” Padric murmurs. “You’re joining Melbourne’s T20 league?”
“I’m considering it,” I reply honestly.
“You’ve still not signed the contract?” Rohit queries. His chair creaks when he leans back. “I thought you’d be on the first flight out of here with all haste.”
“I have a cup to play for, sir. And Kevin knows camp doesn’t end for a few more days. He’s okay with my decision either way.”
“There’s no guarantee playing the Triskelion Cup is going to get you a call from the Australian Cricket Board, kid.” Padric is thoughtful.
“He’s aware of that. He’s not stupid, Paddy.” Aiden finally puts his clipboard down. “And I think he knows we aren’t stupid, either.” The man pierces me with a knowing look.
I try and search for a reason they all want a meeting with me. Whether the reason is good or bad or fucked up. I honestly cannot think of anything. I can’t even bring myself to care.
“Am I in trouble, sir? Did I do something wrong?” I ask them, point-blank.
After the last four days of self-reflection and misery I am not in the mood to play mind games.
I’d rather know the truth and adjust my plans accordingly. If the coaches think I am not fit to be a player in the international team it is a bitter pill to swallow. I’ll never get over it in this life.
But I’ll not stop living my life.
That’s one thing I know about myself. I’ll go on. Mum would hate it if I wasted away, chasing after something futile and reckless. And I want to honor her every way I can.
After all, she loves me.
Aiden glances at Rohit. Who apparently has to take the lead. “It has come to our knowledge …” Rohit clears his throat. “You have gone above and beyond with protecting one of our own, in a legal matter.”
I cock my head. Thoroughly confused.
“The legal notice sent to Veronica Washington?” Padric prompts. “Ring a bell?”
I blink. “Yes, but that was ages ago.”
Rohit leans forward, steepling his hand. “Why did you do it? You’d just met Queenie, my goddaughter?” His beetle-black eyes are grim. And in them I see the truth. She’s told him about us. About the fake dating arrangement.
This is my moment of reckoning.
“Why did I do what?” I hedge for more time.
“Protect her reputation and erase all mention of the video from the internet?” Aiden asks somberly.
“Because it was the right thing to do,” I answer instantly.
“Because you were in it too?” Padric asks.
I look down at my hands. “The only thing I’d have lost is my spot at camp if the video was widely circulated. I’d have done anything to avoid losing my spot at camp.”
“That’s not why you did it.”
I shake my head. “She’d have lost so much more if the video went public. Her reputation and her good standing in this community. She’d have been humiliated and mocked and shamed…for something out of her control.” I look up at them. “This video would be one of many things to happen to me. But it would have followed her all her life. I didn’t want that, sirs.”
Padric smiles. “That’s… very fucking noble of you, Noah.”
“I wasn’t being noble, sir,” I tell him. This time I address her godfather, her beloved Rohit Chachu. “I wanted her to like me. To want me. So, I fixed this problem for her. It was a win-win, in my head.”
Except she doesn’t see it that way. She sees it as me controlling her. And maybe she’s not wrong. And I fucking hate that.
“I see,” Rohit murmurs.
“Whether you wanted to be noble or not, it was a gentlemanly thing to do, Noah,” Aiden says quietly. “I am proud of you for making that choice.”
I blink. I don’t know what to say to this gruff compliment.
“So, you’re going to stay for the duration of The Cup then?” Padric unfolds his hands.
“Of course, sir.” I search their faces for an inkling of their mindset, the reason why they even wanted this meeting. “I hope it’s not a problem.”
Rohit shakes his head definitely. Then he says, “Would you still have done what you did, given what you know now?” He looks at me calculatingly.
And I know he knows. He knows about the fight between Queenie and me. That things are over between us. He knows she’s gone. She’s not coming back.
And I…I have nothing to lose. So, I give him the honest answer. “I’d do it all over again, sir. Because she’s worth it.” I incline my head.
Rohit cracks a smile then. A wide, full-faced grin. He stands up and extends a hand to me.
I shake it in faint disbelief.
“You’re going to make a fine cricketer the world will be proud to watch, Noah. I think you’re going to dazzle us.” He places his other palm on top of mine.
Padric shakes my hand next and winks. “Don’t fuck it up now, kid.”
Aiden bumps fists with me and says, “About damn time we Aussies produced someone who does the right thing when no one’s watching. Good luck, Dumaine.”
I walk out of the office in a daze. I am not exactly sure what they saw in me, what the whole meeting was about. But I’ll take the handshakes and stamps of approval. I didn’t know how much I needed it, craved it until I actually got it.
Fox and Jace are waiting for me in the tunnels. The two Archer brothers have actually come by the cottage a couple of times to learn the game. They’re shit at it, but I love the enthusiasm. It keeps my mind busy to teach them the basics and off…of her.
Which I am grateful for.
“Well?” Jace demands, pushing off the wall.
“He’s not been asked to leave the camp,” Fox says confidently.
“How do you know?” Jace wants to know.
“He’s not crying into his jacket.” Fox punches my arm playfully.
“I’m actually not sure what happened in there,” I say blankly. At their enquiring looks I elaborate with, “They know about the Marvels’ offer. Kevin’s a friend of Aiden’s apparently.”
“Of course, he is,” Fox’s statement is dry.
“And? What else?”
I run them through the brief interrogation with the coaches. Neither of them can make much sense of it.
“Maybe it’s a test,” Jace says uncertainly. “Like a test of integrity? Maybe they want to see how good a person you are?”
“It’s cricket. It’s sport. Not the Nobel Peace Prize,” Fox argues against it.
“But then why would they bring up the video thing?”
“Maybe because they wanted the truth. They don’t like lies. Lies create a vacuum the truth cannot fill,” Fox suggests logically. “Besides, this is an actual scandal that was averted. In the first year of camp. It’s a PR nightmare for them.”
“Maybe,” Jace agrees.
“Whatever it is, they all shook hands with me. Even Coach Devgan,” I say brightly.
Jace nudges me on the shoulder. He’s a good kid. Spunky. A little lazy for my taste, but he has a good heart. Except when he gets that gleam in his eye Ares gets. Indicating an appetite for mayhem and chaos. “Go, you! Fucking god of cricket.”
Fox laughs. “Oh, that’s going to stick, isn’t it? Make you insufferable.”
“Fuck you, De Rossi.” But I say it with no heat.
I should be happy. I really am. I should be elated, even. Instead, I’m walking through water. Everything’s a little hazy, a little out of focus. Sounds are muffled and tinny. And I’m floating. A little above my body.
No…not my body. My heart.
Because my heart aches. It just aches. It aches for all the things I had and lost, and I’ll never have now. If I ever did. I don’t know how to make it stop. How to fix the aching.
I just endure it. Breath by painful breath.
“So…have you talked to Queenie?” Jace asks casually. Fox elbows him in the stomach. He just glares at my mate. “I just asked the question on everyone’s mind. Why did you hit me for it?”
“Because it’s not polite,” Fox snaps back.
“Polite doesn’t get the job done.”
“I haven’t talked to her. No.” And I’m not sure I ever will. I am not sure she’ll see me again.
“She’s not come back to Ma’s Pantry, either.”
“I see.” But I do not.
If she isn’t at the diner, where is she?
A light goes off in my head. Rohit Devgan’s place. Of course. Now I understand some of the more cryptic things he’d said in the interview. But it still did not explain why the coaches wanted to meet me in the first place.
“Queenie will kill me if she comes to know I told you but…” Jace hesitates. “She paid for all the pies we ate, out of her own pocket. Like a regular customer.”
I stop walking. Think back to the countless pies we all have had this summer. Two, sometimes three per night. Every single night. It’s not a lot, but for a struggling student it sure is not nothing.
“Why did she…”
“Because she feels sorry for us,” Jace answers slowly. “We’re like her lost causes, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself, mate. I’m very well-found.” But even Fox is thoughtful.
“She did that?” I think back to when she started bringing extra pies home, because Ares was eating my share.
Jace nods. “Simon wanted to pay for them once, but she said it’s on the house. Then he saw Pestroni charge her for them. It’s why he loves her, you know. Because she takes care of who she cares about. Simon, not Pestroni,” Jace clarifies. “I love her too.”
Fox looks over at me, expectantly.
I shrug. Although my heart, my floating in water heart, starts beating. Sluggishly. Like it’s just learning how to do so. A new and tender thing.
I don’t answer him.
“Jace,” I make up my mind over a decision I’ve wrestled with. Am I the man she thinks I am or the man I know myself to be? “Will you let me know if you think Queenie needs me?”
Jace nods. “Sure, man. Although…why?”
I shrug. “Just, let me know. Please?”
I grip Fox’s shoulder then. And give him a half hug. “You two go ahead. I have something I need to do.”
“What’s that?”
I slide my phone out and thumb it open. I scroll to the contacts section and show him the number I’m about to dial.
Calvin.
“There’s someone I need to talk to, alone.”
Fox smiles tremulously. He nods. “Alright, mate.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit dial.
Dad picks up before the first ring is done. “Is everything alright? Are you alright?”
“I’m alright, Dad. I’m fine.” I hesitate and then plunge ahead, “I called you because I missed you. And I wanted to tell you something important.”
“I miss you too, son,” he whispers shakily, before I can talk. “Every damn day. And I wish I could tell you how much I miss your mum. Every damn day. It’s just I couldn’t live with the loneliness and emptiness of my life after she was gone and…” He takes a ragged, raw breath.
I swallow a hot ball of tears. Grip the phone tighter.
“I never wanted to alienate you, Noah,” he continues. “I curse myself every day because that’s what happened… because I met Bel. And Bel…she misses you too. She’s so sorry for everything, son.”
“I know.” I know that now. I can see it in the emails and the texts from them. The calls I don’t answer. The way I kept myself apart from them.
Isabelle isn’t the wicked stepmother from the fairytales. But a real, flesh and blood, mature woman who made my father happy. And she’d tried hard with me too. Planning birthday parties and movie trips. She’d shown up for all my matches too till I ordered her not to come because she wasn’t my mother.
She is not my mother. But she could be someone else who cared about me. If I let her.
“I’m sorry…” I say hoarsely. “About Bel. And Thalia. And what I said. How I left things all those years ago.”
“You were, still are, just a child, Noah. My child,” he sounds tired. And old. And like my dad. “I’m sorry. I did not listen to you enough. I couldn’t love you enough.”
“I thought you didn’t love me at all,” I confess in the lowest voice I have. It’s barely above a subvocal whisper. “That I reminded you of mum and you didn’t love her anymore because she died.”
My dad cries. He breaks down over the phone.
I lean my shaky head on the tunnel wall. And grip the phone with both hands.
“If you felt like that, as Bel would say, then it’s entirely on me. Because I’m the adult and I had to look after you. Fix things for you. I’m so sorry, Noah. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Is fixing things a Dumaine family trait?” I ask through my veil of tears. I wipe roughly at my eyes.
“I couldn’t fix Sarah, could I?”
“She loved us, didn’t she?” I ask him, pathetically hopefully. “Mum loved us?”
“She loved you with every fiber of herself, Noah. And you…” He speaks through his tears. “You’re the best part of her. She’d be so proud of how you’ve overcome all your struggles. All your trials. And I’m so proud of you. I saw a video of your century, the world record one, and I?—”
“Stop, Dad, you’re going to make me cry,” I admonish him gruffly.
“I miss you, Noah. I want to see you.”
“Well, come by Ma’s Pantry if you really want to.” I tease him.
He chuckles. “Done.”
“Actually, if everything goes according to plan, then I’ll be in Australia in a few weeks. And you can see me all you want. You and Bel and Thalia too,” I offer generously. Cautiously.
“They’ll love that. Just love it.” My dad sniffs. Then, “I love you, Noah.”
I close my eyes, and the damned tears come anyway. Two hot streaks of remembered pain and grief, misplaced anger and unfair hope.
My heart starts beating again, inside my chest.
“I love you too, Dad. I love you too.”
When the call ends, I feel like a new man. A man reborn. One who’s not so broken. No…I’m still broken. But I’m learning to love the broken parts of me. To show the broken parts of me to others and hope they’ll love me. For who I am. Not what I can do for them.
Yes, my love is an action language. A doing verb. But I deserve to be loved exactly as I am.
First by me. Before anyone else.
And finally…finally…I begin to do just that. Love myself. As I am.