Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
NAOMI
Montreal, Canada
The only thing that got me through a seemingly never-ending visit to the press post-win was the thought of the sandwich I’d asked one of my siblings to get. Alisha seemed to appreciate that, because she held it out to me without even saying hello the moment I was in arm’s length.
I’d eaten almost half of it in about a minute before I noticed that only one sibling was waiting for me when I expected two.
“Where’s the other one?”
She shrugged. “He said he had to go and see a man about a horse.”
I paused before I took another bite of my sandwich. I generally wasn’t that bothered by vague answers to questions about location, but when they fell on this particular date, I got worried.
“What does that actually mean, though? Where is he?”
Another shrug. “Mimi, that was how he phrased it. I didn’t ask any further questions. But you can stand down. There’s no surprise birthday party. He’s probably gone to pick up your cake.”
“Are you sure about that? It’s always possible that Wyatt’s gone rogue.”
“I’m pretty sure because let’s be real, Wyatt wouldn’t go rogue about this.
And it would be the world’s worst party because all of your friends are either employed in London or tennis players focused on the very tournament you’re also in, so the guest list would be two people you already spend all your time with.
Now, finish your sandwich as we walk to the car because the sooner we leave, the sooner there’s cake in your life. ”
Well, I wasn’t going to put off getting closer to cake. Especially not today.
There was a giant silver three balloon in the hallway when we got back to the house we were staying in.
Behind it was a trail of haphazardly thrown party streamers that led towards the kitchen.
Alisha and I followed the trail and found the second silver three balloon bobbing about by the open kitchen window.
An asymmetrical black ‘Happy Birthday’ banner was hung up over the kitchen cupboards, and in pride of place on the kitchen table was a three-tiered chocolate ganache-coated cake.
As expected, Wyatt was waiting for me.
What wasn’t expected was Sam, wearing a black top with the sleeves cut off, showcasing his arms, and black shorts paired with a backwards black hat.
“Happy birthday!” they said in unison as they let off some party poppers that added more streamers to the floor in a pathetic whimper. Thankfully, they didn’t launch into song.
“Thank you,” I said as I dropped into a seat at the table and pulled the cake towards me, not taking my eyes off the unexpected man in this Canadian city. “What’s underneath this icing then?”
“Your favourite,” Wyatt answered as I picked up the knife next to the cake and cut a slice.
As I pulled it away from the cake, an avalanche of mini chocolate buttons spilled out onto the stand. The cake itself was three layers of vanilla sponge, and if Wyatt was talking my favourites, then the icing in between the layers was most likely going to be praline.
“This cake is obscene,” I said as I balanced the slice on the knife and started picking at the buttons.
“Three tiers for thirty-three,” Wyatt said, like that explained everything, and then clapped once. “Right, Leesh and I need to get some bits for your birthday dinner. What do you want?”
“You’re going right now? Before cake?” I carefully waved the knife as if he needed a visual reminder.
“Yeah, might as well before we get too comfy and lose the energy to want to leave the house again.”
“Okay, sure. Build a dish around potatoes,” I answered.
With some quick muttered goodbyes, they were gone, and it was just me and an incredibly large cake. And Sam.
“You’re in Montreal,” I said, finally putting my slice of cake onto one of the plates Wyatt had put out. I looked at Sam again. He’d crossed his arms, making his biceps look bigger. He looked substantially better than the last time I’d seen him.
The corners of his mouth tipped up into a smile. “Yeah. I’ve had quite the week.”
“Oh? Wanna talk about it over cake?”
“Yeah, but first, I need to reunite these two numbers.” He was out and back with the other three before I could finish cutting him a slice, mostly because I started eating more chocolate buttons.
The two numbers bounced together gently by the window.
As I dropped the slice of cake onto another plate, I said, “Wyatt told Leesh he had to go see a man about a horse. I can’t figure out if you were the horse, or if you were the man and the balloons were the horse.”
“The man, I think? Because he was otherwise occupied, he asked me to pick up the balloons and cake, and then he came to get me.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I landed at eleven.”
“And Wyatt knew you were coming?”
“He suggested it. Um, I kind of fired my dad the other day.”
I’d chosen the wrong moment to put a mini chocolate button in my mouth because the surprise at hearing that sentence almost made me choke on it before I could chew. I managed to save it.
“You did?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Wasn’t quite what I planned to do, but I reached my breaking point, and here I am.”
“What was the plan?”
“You know Wyatt offered to be my coach, right?” He licked some ganache off his thumb.
“I knew he was thinking about it.”
“He made it very clear that you were his priority until next summer. The plan was to ride out the year with Dad and then have a nice, gentle conversation with him about how I think we’ve achieved all we can with our professional partnership.
I imagined it would be kind of ugly, but we’d get through it and maybe be father and son again. ”
“I guess it wasn’t a gentle conversation?”
A snort echoed around the kitchen.
“It wasn’t even a conversation. I just blurted out while I was heaped on the floor with heatstroke that I was done.
He told me to think very hard about what I was saying.
I repeated myself, and then he was gone.
I was gonna go back home, but then Wyatt called and said I should come here, where I could have some space to recover, process what happened, and not be alone. So here I am.”
“Shit, Sam. That’s a lot. How are you?”
He ran a hand over his face and readjusted his hat.
“Tired. I mean, the brush with heatstroke didn’t help, but I’ve spent the last couple of days sleeping, and I still feel tired.
Sad because six or whatever years ended the way they did.
Panicked because this is all happening a year before it’s supposed to, and I have no plan right now.
” Sam’s words were rushed, rolling into one another.
I leaned over and placed a hand on his arm, stroking along the length of his forearm.
He took a shaky deep breath, and his shoulders fell away from his ears.
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. It’s not an impossible problem to solve.”
Sam relaxed further into his chair and smiled loosely.
“It feels like a pretty big one.”
“It is. But you don’t need to figure it all out at once. Plus, there are worse times in the season for it to happen. At least the next two tournaments are in the same place, so you can borrow Wyatt in the short term.”
Although if I knew my brother the way I thought I did, there was a reason, beyond making sure Sam wasn’t alone or in the same city as his dad, that he’d told Sam to come here. He probably already had a plan formulating in his head about how he could make it work, coaching us both.
“You’d let him do that?”
I laughed, reluctantly moving my hand when I felt his arm start to twitch like it was getting uncomfortable under the weight of my hand. “Sam, he’s soft-launched it already. Or did you not notice that all our training sessions together recently have been heavily dictated by him and not your dad?”
“I noticed. I thought that was more about you. Wyatt seems to have your best interests at heart. Always. And you have a life outside of tennis. I don’t think my dad would’ve even remembered my birthday, let alone taken the time to order your favourite cake and balloons.
” There was no mistaking the sadness and underlying anger in his voice.
“When is your birthday?”
“June. Always during the French. I lost this year. There was no cake,” he added sadly.
I pushed the plate with his slice of cake, forgotten over the last few minutes, a little closer to him. “We have cake now.”
Another smile graced his face, which was what I wanted to see, and he broke off a piece.
Silence fell over us while we ate. I looked at Sam as he devoured his cake.
He still looked tense, but also somehow more relaxed now.
Considering the last time I saw him, he looked like a ghost, it was good to see colour in his cheeks and not dripping in sweat.
I broke the silence. “You ever thought about therapy?”
Sam swallowed. “No. Although I probably should, given the shit show that is my life. I guess you’ve found it useful?”
“Useful? Yes. But it’s always the hardest hour of my week.
I actually started around the time I fired my own parent and have been in and out ever since.
Mostly in recently, given the way the last twelve months have been.
I have someone who might be able to help if you want his details.
He probably won’t be able to be your therapist, but he can definitely talk you through some options of people to go to, way better than I could. ”
His jaw clenched before he nodded. “That would be great, thanks. Now, it’s your birthday, and you won a match. What do you want to do to celebrate?”
“Oooohhhh, we chose this house because there’s a bath, so I’m gonna make use of that.
Read some of my book while I soak. Eat. You being here is actually useful because you even out the teams for game night later.
Lois and Pete are coming over. That means we can change the team set-up and Lois and I can ruin all of your lives. ”
Sam laughed brightly. “Two of the greatest athletes in the world on the same team. How does anyone else stand a chance?”