12. Round 15

12

ROUND 15

Paige

T he Gold Coast seems like a lifetime ago. Work has been hectic, so much so that I cancelled my session with Marj two weeks ago so I could catch up on a project Debbie and I have been spearheading. She was away before that, so I haven’t seen her since I started sleeping with Willo.

Sleeping is probably the wrong euphemism. We didn’t have sex on the Gold Coast because we were both exhausted each night and I was sharing a room with a five-year-old. Well, that’s what I told myself, but I also didn’t think it was appropriate with his kids under the same roof.

It surprised me getting on so well with all the kids. I mean, the youngest were a little challenging, but I think even the babies warmed to me towards the end. I’ve met most of the kids at the football, but spending time away with them was eye opening. They were fun to be around.

Since then, I’ve not spent a night alone with Willo. His mother-in-law came to look after the kids the weekend before last. As much as Luna wanted me to come out for lunch, I pretended I had work to do. It didn’t feel right spending time with his late wife’s mother. She will no doubt hate me and not appreciate that Willo is seeing someone else. Not that he’s really seeing me.

I told him I wanted casual and no strings, but my feelings for Willo Lovemore have grown over the last few weeks, despite our lack of physical contact. We've recorded the podcast each week and texted each other at least daily. I didn’t go to his away game last week, but I went to the home game on Friday night and sat with the girls. Jenna tried to get me to go down to the player’s rooms after the game, but Willo hadn’t invited me, so I headed home.

Luna had a birthday party to go to on Saturday, so Moira stayed with the kids on Friday night. Willo told me they were desperate to see me and asked if I’d be able to head to his for lunch on Sunday, but again, I pretended I had to work. They came into town and dragged me to a playground, where we had fish and chips instead.

The thing is, it’s not only Willo who has woven his way into my heart, but it’s the kids as well.

“Paige.” Marj smiles as she calls my name from the door to her room.

I suck in a huge breath as I sit in the comfy chair. It really feels like the chair is giving you a hug, which is what I need.

“It’s been a while, Paige. How have things been?” Marj asks as she pours us both a glass of water.

The breath I sucked in blows out, making my lips vibrate. “Where do I start?” I look at my hands clenched in my lap.

“Has something happened?” Marj asks as she takes a sip of her water.

“I slept with Willo Lovemore.” I scrunch my face. My eyes are clenched shut, so I can’t see Marj’s response. After a minute of silence, I peek out of one eye and see my therapist just sitting there. “You can tell me how bad this is,” I offer.

Marj doesn’t take my bait. “Was this just once?” she asks.

“No. We, um, well, we sort of went on a date, but I told Willo that I wasn’t up for a relationship, and reminded him I’m leaving at the end of the year, but he said casual was cool, so we found a hotel, we were up in Melbourne, and then we spent two nights there, well, you know.”

“So, a two-night stand?” Marj’s face is neutral. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

“No.” I sigh. “We then came back here, and his kids were with his mum and brother, and I spent more time at his place, and he came to mine, and then we spent a week on the Gold Coast, but nothing happened there, and then we came back here, and I’ve been busy with work, and he’s been busy with football, and?—”

“Paige, take a breath.” Marj smiles.

I do. I think back to our time in the hotel. Then back to our time at his place, where I remember Willo whistling as he cooked me pancakes for breakfast before driving me to work. And I remember the look on his face as he played with the baby on the Gold Coast. I can’t give him kids. I mean, physically, I probably could, but I really don’t want to share my DNA. Willo strikes me as the sort of guy who’d want a heap more kids.

“So, you’ve been spending more time with Willo and his family?” Marj asks.

“Yeah.” I nod. “And I know it’s not healthy.”

“Why not?” Marj’s voice is high, and her head bobs back in incredulity.

“Well, it’s, like, temporary, and friends with benefits, not that there have been any benefits for a few weeks, but it’s not a relationship,” I argue, albeit tentatively.

“And how’s the podcast going?” Marj asks.

“Great.” I beam. “We’ve been nominated for some award. Willo plays his 200th game this weekend, so he’s been doing a lot of media, but Thursday night, they want both of us to go on this footy panel show thing. I’ve got no idea what I’ll say, but Willo keeps telling me I’ll be amazing.”

“Paige, we’ve talked a lot about the few weeks you spent in Sydney and your time with Lyle. Does Willo give off the same vibes Lyle did?”

“God no.” I laugh. “He’s, like, the total opposite of Lyle. He asks me questions and listens to me. I’ve told him how I’m not comfortable with my body, but he tells me how sexy I am. At one of the theme parks, I thought I’d be too big to go on the roller coaster the kids wanted to go on, and instead of telling me I should just do it, he stood with me, and we watched the kids go on with the others we were there with.”

“We’ve also talked about red flags.” Marj studies me as I pick up the glass of water and play with the droplets that try to escape down the side. “What red flags does Willo have?”

“Well, he’s Australian.” I shrug. “I mean, our time together is limited. Maybe that’s giving me more freedom, I don’t know.”

“So, you had a few days of lots of sex”—Marj pushes her glasses up her nose, and I blush—?“and since then, you’ve spent a considerable amount of time together, but no sex. Does it seem Willo is pushing you away at all?”

“Not at all,” I blurt, shaking my head. “I mean, after we recorded the podcast yesterday, Willo told me how much he wanted to, well, have sex again, but his phone rang, and he had to grab one of his kids from school.”

It was Billy this time, and I said I should head back to the office. I chuckled when Willo mumbled that his eleven-year-old was a cockblocker.

“And what do his kids think? You’ve spent time with them?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Luna and Jackson are cool. Billy, I’m not sure of. I mean, they don’t know that their father and I are, well, benefitting, so to say, but they don’t seem to mind me being around.”

“Was this Willo’s choice or yours?” Marj asks.

“It was both, really. We need to keep things casual, so it doesn’t worry me at all.”

We carry on for a little longer, our conversation morphing to work things. Marj insists she wants to circle back to talk about Willo, but our time ends. She’ll have to wait a couple of weeks to hear any more, and by then, who knows what will have happened.

The Thursday Footy Panel is apparently a big deal. Current and past players talk footy, but in a visual medium, unlike our podcast. The panel has five people sitting on it, plus a comedian who throws in wisecracks from a bar set up. Initially, we were going to live stream in from Bayview Cove, but the producers asked if we could come up to the studio in Melbourne.

I can’t believe they’ve got a hair and makeup artist to do whatever to me. I wore my clothes from the office today, my standard uniform of black wide-legged pants and a knitted black tunic. Somewhere along the line, someone has found a purple beaded necklace, which has been draped around my head.

My hair has been blown out in a way I don’t really recognise it, but I’m not dissatisfied with the result. My makeup looks fresh, and I was glad I put my foot down when they wanted to contour and shade away my natural features.

I haven’t seen Willo since we arrived, but his face lights up when I’m shown through to the green room and find him waiting there, flicking through a magazine. He’s wearing the same uniform I first met him in, and I have to admit, he looks damn sexy in his suit.

His eyes roam over me as if he’s taking in every detail and he appreciates what he sees. There’s someone else in the room with us, and Willo introduces him as a coach from another side in the competition.

“Willo, Paige.” A producer stands in the doorway. His hair is going in several directions like he’s been running his hands through it. “Sorry, we’re behind.” He sighs. “So, Jonno wants to talk about your 200th game, Willo, and also about the success of” —he looks at his clipboard—“ The Yank and The Tank . They’re just in an ad break, but I’ll set you up at the desk.”

He leads us down a corridor and onto the set. There’s a studio audience, who start to scream and whistle when they see Willo. We’re introduced to the panel members, and I immediately forget their names, but remember Jonno, the host. He played for the Panthers some years ago.

“And we’re back in three, two…” The producer counts down on hi s fingers, and the theme music is back, along with the cheering from the crowd.

“Alright, alright. Calm down.” Jonno presses his hands down towards the desk as he looks at the audience. “Anyone would think you were trying to tell me I’m no longer the best-looking guy on the panel, but yes, we have been joined by both The Yank and The Tank from the hugely successful podcast, and of course, The Tank is playing his 200th game this Saturday afternoon.”

The crowd once again cheers and whistles, and Willo goes beet red. It’s so sweet to see.

“So, Paige, you’re The Yank.” Jonno doesn’t look like he has any notes, and there’s no teleprompter. “How do you put up with this guy?”

I’m surprised the first question has been thrown at me. I thought we were here for Willo. “Willo’s lovely and easy to work with. I’m just glad he’s been able to explain the game to me and that people are enjoying our show each week.”

“So, Willo, how did the podcast come about? I mean, did you know about Paige from her time in Sydney?” Jonno continues, his face professional, as if he isn’t digging for dirt on my past.

I hadn’t contemplated that they would bring up Sydney. My palms sweat, and I rub them against my pants under the table.

“We met originally at a pregame function early in the season before I was back from injury. I saw some things Paige put up on her socials, and someone in the marketing department at the club suggested a podcast. The rest is history.” Willo turns to me and smiles his megawatt grin.

“So, the two of you are an item now?” Someone else from the panel chimes in. “My sister’s going to be devastated to hear you’re off the market, Lover Boy.”

I shake my head, not happy with how this is going. Marketing and media is my job, and I should have expected this, but I’ve come in totally unprepared. I forgot how big business football is in this state and should have done my research, not relied on Willo’s assurances that it’s just a chat about the podcast and his upcoming game .

“Boof”—Willo tilts his head at the panellist—“Paige is a great mate. You know my kids are the loves of my life, and I don’t have time for anything else.”

“Yeah, good move, not going for Lyle J’s sloppy seconds,” the bloke standing behind the makeshift bar pipes in, and there’s a gasp in the crowd.

I want to climb under the desk and hide. When everything blew up in Sydney, I could avoid it all thanks to Jenny’s brother’s help. I didn’t do any interviews and simply laid low until people had moved onto their next scandal. To be confronted like this is not only uncomfortable, it’s embarrassing.

Willo’s hand finds my thigh. “Mate, that’s a disgusting thing to say.” His voice is forceful, and I can see the producer turning in circles, rubbing his head as he waves his clipboard in the air. “I’m sick of this patriarchal bullshit in footy where women are there to be the token commentator or are some sex object. We were asked on tonight to talk about The Yank and The Tank , not to gossip like teenagers about relationships, and definitely not to try to slut shame my good friend.”

The crowd applauds, and Willo whispers in my ear, asking if I’m alright. I simply nod.

“Okay, okay.” Jonno tries to calm the audience. I feel Willo ready to stand and storm off. “So, Willo, big game this weekend. With your injury last season, did you ever think you’d get here?”

Willo talks about the upcoming game and trots out the same things I’ve heard him say in other interviews about his knee. To be honest, I’ve tuned out. Willo is the star of the show here anyway, and people want to talk football with him. I’m not even sure why I’ve been dragged along.

The interview ends, and they cut to a commercial break. Jonno calls over a makeup artist and has more powder applied to his face. The producer is pointing fingers at the bloke at the bar, who stands there and rolls his eyes. I feel like I’ve been trapped in a bubble at the Monarchs. Tonight, I saw a different side to football, one that not only mortified me but also has me wondering what I have become involved with.

Willo

I see red. I’ve seen The Thursday Panel a few times, and Cracker Boyle, as the bloke behind the bar is known as, has never impressed me. He’s one of these old-school comedians who’s so washed up he can only get a gig on a football show, and not as a football expert. I should never have agreed for Paige to come on with me.

Part of it is my fault. I never read up on what happened to her in Sydney. I figured if she wanted to tell me, she would.

“Oh, Paige, I am so sorry,” I tell her as we leave the set. A crew member is showing us to the exit. She said we could stay and watch from the green room, but I hardly think either of us wants to do that.

“It’s fine, Willo.” Paige tries to smile, but I know it’s a fake attempt.

“Shall we grab a drink?” I suggest.

“No.” Paige shakes her head. “I think we should head back down the highway. I’ve got work tomorrow, and the kids will get up early. You need to prepare for your big game.”

I don’t know why I agreed for us to do this together. Well, I mean, I have some ideas. The thought of spending time alone with Paige is really enticing, but it’s clear she’s not happy. And it’s my fault.

I don’t think it’s just Cracker’s quip either. I didn’t handle Boof’s question at all well. We haven’t spoken about what’s happening between us since our first weekend together, really, but Paige is so much more than a mate. She’s someone I have become increasingly infatuated with.

We’ve cleared the city limits; the only sound in the car is the music that’s streaming. It’s an upbeat pop playlist that Luna insisted on this afternoon, especially as it is Taylor Swift heavy. To be honest, I’m not listening to much of it, lost in my head.

I clear my throat. “I’ve missed spending time with you.” She’s staring out the window, but looks towards me. I wish she’d say something. “I was thinking, Monday, after we’ve recorded the podcast, we could, I don’t know, go and see something together or something. Like, I don’t know, a gallery, or even just grab a coffee somewhere that’s not the club.”

I rub the side of my face, my eyes on the road, not on Paige where they yearn to be.

“But you grab the kids from school on Mondays,” Paige replies. “You won’t have time.”

“I want to make time, Paige. If I didn’t have a house full of family this weekend, I’d take you out Sunday, but I’d never hear the end of it from them all.”

Mum would have us planning a wedding, and my brothers and sister would rib me to no end. Plus, Nicola and Gio will be there, and I don’t want to disrespect them or Cara by waving Paige in their faces.

“We’ll see,” is Paige’s noncommittal answer.

“We really want you to join us Sunday, though, for lunch.” Mum and Nicola have planned a massive feast. A few of the guys from the club and their families will also be there. I want Paige by my side.

I drop Paige off, and she gives me a peck on the cheek. I mean, I’m not chasing a make-out session that will fog up the windows, but it feels so impersonal. Shit, I’ve fucked things up, and I need to make them right.

Paige

I’m exhausted. Work has been kicking my butt, and I have no idea where I stand with Willo. At least I could sleep in a little this morning. Willo has been insistent that I join the families, especially his, for his big game. I know Cara’s parents will be there, and I’m not sure how I feel about meeting them.

It will be a big day for his kids, too. They’ll run onto the ground with him, all decked in Monarchs’ guernseys—Willo has me calling their uniforms by the right terms now—and, after the game, Willo will be chaired from the ground by teammates through a guard of honour.

The Monarchs are playing the Redbacks, a team that started really well but has been struggling for several weeks. At one stage, they were on top of the ladder, now, we don’t even know if they’ll play finals football. I know we should win, but I’m still nervous as I seem to be before any game. Like the last time I watched a game with Willo’s family, I meet them in the car park. I’m introduced to Nicola and Gio, Cara’s parents, and Brad, Charlene’s husband.

The kids are excited. I haven’t seen them for ages, and they all seem to have stories for me, even Billy, who tells me about the new lambs and how they have two sets of twins. I realise that I’ve missed these rascals and am looking forward to spending time with them today and tomorrow at the party at the farm.

It’s a pleasant distraction. I’ve been trying not to read the papers, and I definitely haven’t been listening to the radio or watching anything on television, but it seems the focus on Willo’s big game isn’t how well he’s playing—as much as it should be, because he’s in amazing form—but whether he’s moved on with an overweight American woman.

There have been columns dedicated to dissecting my friendship with him. As much as I’ve tried to avoid it, it’s been hard to miss. On social media, one place I should have switched off, but didn’t, fans appear divided, with some seemingly happy Willo has supposedly found love again after his wife died, but the majority complaining that I’m too large to be a WAG.

They’re right, of course. I don’t fit the mould, and I need to remind myself that Willo and I are friends and nothing more. We had an amazing long weekend filled with sex and intimacy, but nothing has really happened since.

We make our way inside the ground towards the room the families will gather in today.

“There you are.” Bel meets me at the door to the room with a massive smile, her baby in her arms. I can’t believe how big he’s getting. “How are you doing?” She rests her free hand on my arm.

“I’m fine.” I try to laugh off her concern. “I wish the focus was on how well Willo’s playing and not on some fairy tale the fans have concocted. ”

I’m not Cinderella, Snow White, or any of the other princesses Luna seems obsessed with. As much as Marj keeps telling me how great I’m doing in therapy, I know I’m damaged goods?—?the child even a mother couldn’t love.

“And look at all you Lovemores,” Bel exclaims with a laugh, looking around Willo’s family. “Everyone’s here.”

They’re meant to be here though. I’m an outsider, an interloper who isn’t part of Willo’s family. I would have been better heading to the local pub with Debbie and some other people from work to watch the game.

I head inside the room, leaving everyone else to catch up with Bel, and am immediately accosted by Kim.

“You are a rockstar, girlfriend,” she tells me as she sweeps me up in a hug. I’ve got no idea what I’ve done to earn that accolade from her. “Here.” She slides a lanyard around my neck.

Looking down, I see it’s a ground pass, something extremely rare, and gives me access to the ground before and after the game. “I won’t need this.” I try to remove it, but Kim grabs my hand.

“You will. Lenore will need help to wrangle the kids.” She laughs.

“But what about his brothers or sister? Or even his in-laws. They’re all here.” I try to state my case, but Kim swats at my arm. There’s no point arguing with her.

Lenore leads the rest of the family into the room and gratefully accepts her lanyard from Kim.

“I see Brad the douche is here.” Jenna slides alongside me and offers a side hug. “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks he’ll hit on you before the ball’s even been bounced.”

“I haven’t spoken to him,” I say, not wanting to offer disparaging remarks about someone I’ve only just met.

Brad walks over to us. “Jenna Ball. You look as gorgeous as ever.”

“Where’s your wife, Brad?” Jenna crosses her arms and juts out a hip.

“Come on.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’ve got eyes and can appreciate a hot, sexy woman.” Jenna shakes her head. “And I never took Willo to be a chubby chaser, but he’s probably been taken in by your eyes.” Brad turns to me, a smile that screams used car salesman across his face.

“Told you.” Jenna shakes her head.

I’m glad Kim comes to grab me and tells me it’s time to head down with the kids. I feel awful leaving Jenna with this creep, but I know she’ll be able to handle herself.

Luna is bouncing around, clearly excited about what’s about to happen. She’s grabbed my hand, leaving her grandmother to ensure the boys don’t get distracted on our way downstairs. Luna’s hair is in pigtails, tied with purple-and-gold ribbons. The kids have their father’s number four on their backs, and in the space for the player’s name is printed ‘Dad’. Even I can see this is seriously cute.

The cheer squad has outdone themselves with the banner this week, the message reading ‘We’d love another 200 from our spiritual leader, but this is a great start. Here’s to many more.’ It’s in all caps, the gold lettering on the purple background glimmering under the winter sun.

As I look around the ground, there’s not a spare seat in the house. A massive cheer erupts, and I turn to see the players exiting the race, led up by Willo. Jackson sees him first and runs to him, followed by Billy and Luna. He wraps them all in a hug and is whispering something in their ears before I see the three of them nodding.

Willo comes over and gives his mother a hug. His eyes have a glassy look, and I can see this is an emotional time for him.

“Yankee Girl.” He smiles and bites his bottom lip. He seems genuinely pleased I’m out here.

“Congratulations,” I offer.

“Come on, Lover Boy.” Matty comes up behind him, wrapping his arm around Willo’s neck, breaking any moment that might have passed between the two of us. “We’ve got a game to win.”

Willo scoops Luna into his arms, Jackson and Billy flanking him as they are the first to run through the banner. There are photographers everywhere with the television cameras focussed on Willo and the kids as they run around the ground. Billy and Jackson mimic the stretches and exercises the players are doing, while Luna spins cartwheels across the surface.

“Thank you for bringing my big baby back to life.” Lenore wraps her arm through mine and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re good for him, you know.”

“We’re friends,” I tell her, but she replies with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Lenore pats my wrist.

The kids are brought back to us, and we make our way back upstairs, still not entirely sure how I got to be part of a lovely family moment.

The last time I came to a game in Brisbane, we lost. I said this to Brittany this week, who immediately picked up on me inserting myself into the Monarchs. It’s hard to fathom just how important football has become to me. Today, we annihilate the opposition, winning by over twenty goals, or 120 points. Willo played a blinder, kicking six goals.

About five minutes before the final siren, Kim came and grabbed Lenore and the kids, who also grabbed me, Luna refusing to go unless I was there, too. After the players had congratulated each other and shaken the hands of their opponents, Willo is pulled to do some media on the ground. He is standing about thirty feet away from us, so I can’t hear what he is saying, but he looks so happy. There is a smile on his face a mile wide, and I don’t think anyone could remove it. He keeps running his hand through his hair.

Eventually, the reporter gets him to look our way. When he sees the kids, his smile grows even wider. He winds up the interview, races over to us, hoists the kids over the boundary fence, and wraps his mum in a hug. He then turns towards me, his smile not faltering and simply mouths ‘thank you’, his hand pressed against his heart.

I have no idea what to make of it. As he runs off with his kids to do a lap of honour, Lenore places her hands on my shoulders from behind and squeezes. “Lovemore men may be a little stunted emotionally, but it’s the little things they’ll do that show us how special we are to them.”

Her words confuse me. Willo has made it clear we’re friends. I’ve already been the centre of one media circus this year, and I don’t relish the thought of being part of another that dissects whether an elite athlete should be seen with an overweight partner such as me.

There’s probably more to it than that, but to me, that is the crux—the shape of my body. There’s no way an elite athlete could want to be seen with someone like me. I wasn’t good enough for Lyle J, and there’s no doubt I’ll be good enough for Willo Lovemore, even if he is twice the man Lyle pretends to be.