19. Deena

Deena

O ne of the things I'd always loved about Mather was the way people ignored me. I was the ‘weird Lovelace girl', and they normally gave me a wide berth. But thanks to my bronze medal, I was a celebrity now, much to my consternation.

I gritted my teeth as I walked out of the diner on Main Street and was approached by yet another autograph seeker. Behind the person's head, my mother mimed smiling to remind me to ‘do the kindly' as she said. All this socializing was killing me. It was all I'd done since I'd crossed that finish line in Paris. Now that I'd had my obligatory arrival brunch with my parents, I was planning to lock myself inside my house for at least a week and enjoy my alone time.

And probably wallow a bit more. Even though it had been four days since Paula broke my heart, I was still one hundred percent in wallow mode.

"Deena."

My God, I was so obsessed with her that I was hearing Paula's voice in my head now. But then she said my name again and I realized that she actually was here. In tiny little Mather Minnesota. She was standing on the sidewalk giving me a look that made my heart stutter in my chest.

My former teammate was dressed in faded jeans, sneakers, and a tee shirt emblazoned with the logo of our running program in California. Her long hair was starting to frizz from the humidity, and she pushed it away from her face impatiently as she watched me.

I gave the autographed paper back to my newfound fan and walked towards her, ignoring my parents' curious stares.

"What are you doing here, Paula?" I asked. Even I could hear how cold my voice was.

"I, um, can we talk?" I'd never heard her sound anything less than confident before. "Please?"

"I'm spending time with my parents," I snapped.

"Actually we just finished brunch Deena, remember?" Mom interjected. "Your father and I need to get back home."

I didn't need to look at my mother to know that she was playing matchmaker. She'd asked me about the video over breakfast and I'd given her the highlights, or the lowlights I guess, about my short relationship with Paula.

When Paula and I just stood there on the sidewalk staring at each other, Mom pulled me into a hug, said goodbye, and dragged my father away, leaving us alone.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again.

"I came to see you."

I couldn't discern her expression. I thought it was nervousness, but I wasn't sure. It certainly wasn't something I'd seen on her face before.

A couple of people walked by. I had no idea who they were, but they made no effort to pretend that they weren't staring.

"Is there some place we can talk privately?"

I sighed. As much as I didn't want to talk to her right now, Paula was here in Mather, and whatever she wanted to say, I didn't want it to be something people were gossiping about for the rest of the week.

"Let's go to my place. You can follow me there, then once you say whatever you came all this way to say, you can head out."

Her face flashed with what looked like hurt before she schooled her expression.

"Thank you. My rental car is over there."

A few minutes later Paula followed me into my driveway. She looked around curiously, taking in my cute little Craftsman cottage that was surrounded by plants and trees. I'd purchased the empty lot next to my house, giving me lots of privacy, and my back yard bordered a green space that was used for picnicking, biking, and other community activities. I loved it here, and it was a million times better than the crappy apartment I stayed at in California when we were training.

"Sweet place," she said. "Are you staying with your parents?"

"No this is my house," I said. "Do you think I live at home? I'm almost twenty-eight years old."

"I thought you lived in California," she said.

"No, I stay in California when we're training," I corrected. "I live here. Come on in."

Paula followed me into the house, and I led her through the living room and dining room into the kitchen. Grabbing two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, I handed her one.

"Let's talk on the screen porch."

When I bought the house it had a large deck that included a hot tub and space for a whole room of outdoor furniture. I'd had the deck framed in with screens and skylights so I could enjoy the space without getting eaten by bugs during the summer. This area had mosquitos the size of a toddler during the warm months.

Paula sat on one side of a wicker couch, and I sat catty corner to her in a matching chair, a small table between us. I let her fidget for a few minutes until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Well?" I pinned her with a hard look.

"I was an asshole," she started.

When I didn't correct her she continued, "I lost focus on the race, letting myself and the fans down. I had this ridiculous impulse like we'd cross the finish line holding hands, like it was just some casual race where we could do a big romantic gesture and not something that you were taking very seriously. Like I should have been doing. And then I was jealous that you'd gotten on the podium, and I didn't. I…uh…well, there's no excuse for my behavior."

I nodded but didn't respond.

"But the worst thing is that I didn't support you. I should have congratulated you. I should have been by your side for the pictures and the interviews and all the things I know you hate. But instead, I acted like a spurned lover and a bad loser. I embarrassed myself and the team. I'm really sorry, Deena."

I was still confused about her behavior. We were there as professionals -- or supposed to be anyway.

"Why did you act that way?" I asked. "I didn't even realize you'd reached for me, it would never enter my mind that you wanted to hold hands as we crossed the finish line in a race. I was focused on winning a medal for the U.S., nothing else, especially once I realized that one of us had a chance to do it. Then when I wanted to share my happiness, you were gone without a word. If the situation was reversed and you crossed the finish line before me, I would have been thrilled for you."

She sighed deeply. "I've never been in love before."

I was confused by the change in subject. "What are you talking about?"

"I've never been in love before until I fell for you in Paris," she explained.

My heart started thudding painfully in my chest. She loved me? Was this real?

"I was so overwhelmed by how excited I was to be in love that I wasn't thinking clearly. I was thinking of us and being romantic, instead of focusing on the job we were both there to do. That's not an excuse, but it is an explanation. All I can do is say I'm sorry and ask if you'll give me another chance."

"Another chance for what?" I asked.

"Forever."