Chapter 22

For the first time ever, Nate was late to sports training. He’d been holed up in his hut—or the ‘Nate Space’ as Eloise had dubbed it—all day, banging away at his keyboard, pouring more of his heart onto the pages. Then he’d stopped by Eloise’s art class to lead everyone through a quick meditation and a few introductory Tai Chi moves while trying not to stare at Eloise. Unable to miss any opportunity to spend time with Eloise, he’d stayed for the whole session sketching mindlessly as he avoided Bianca’s questions about his personal life. It had been a relief when she said she’d skip the training session because of the rain. He’d waited until Bianca had left to say goodbye to Eloise, which had involved making out against the closed door of her office, her hands clutching his running jacket so hard it was still wrinkled.

Sheets of rain fell steadily; the rhythmic tap tap tap against the roof of his Pajero was the only sound as he slowed to a stop in the empty car park.

“We don’t have to train if you don’t want to,” he said to Callum, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t care about training in the wet—so many coaches had told him skin was waterproof over the years. Nate rolled his shoulders, twisting his neck as a yawn escaped.

“Dad still wants me to,” Callum said, pushing open his door.

A text from Teddy bowing out distracted Nate, and his feet plunged into a muddy puddle that covered the tops of his runners. Within two seconds, he was saturated; big, fat drops of freezing water seeping through his running pants and trainers.

“Then let’s start with a few laps of the oval as a warm-up.”

They took off at an easy clip, feet squelching in their shoes as they found their strides. Callum was quiet to start, rebuffing Nate’s attempt to draw him into conversation. Honestly, it suited him just fine. With each step, his muscle memory took over, the movements meditative … relaxing.

Nate could do this all day.

After their standard warm-up of five laps, Nate started to slow, trying to figure out what they should do next. Tackling was out unless they wanted to go home looking like swamp monsters. “Got any preferences? You can pick tonight.”

Callum took off his soaked baseball cap and winged it towards the stands as they looped past them. “Can we just run?”

Nate volleyed a tentative shot at the shy teenager. “Sometimes you’ve just got to move, right?”

“Yep.”

The rain picked up, and the drops were like little spears hitting his face. After another ten laps, he was about to suggest they call it a night when Callum spoke again.

“Why don’t you play for the Wattle Junction footy team?”

The answer rolled off Nate’s tongue easily because it was one he’d been asked ever since he’d moved home. “Because it wouldn’t serve me the way I would want it to. I spent so long being defined by what I could do on a sporting field, and that’s not me anymore. There would be comparisons about what my skills are like now and how I’ve forgotten how to play AFL after so long in the NFL. How I’m older and slower. That stuff’s never fun to hear, but people don’t realise the hardest person I compete against is myself. I’m my own worst critic, and I don’t want to live my life like that anymore. I just want to be me. Do the things that make me happy. It took me a long time to understand that happy looks different for everyone, and that’s okay.”

A quick glance confirmed Callum was mulling his words over.

“Does writing make you happier than footy?”

If Nate had a dollar for every time he’d been asked that. “For me, it’s about balance. I do my best with movement and creativity. It’s natural for people to want to pigeonhole you into one thing, but that’s never worked for me. Even when I played, I wrote. I’ve always done both. Now I just do the movement part differently, and I get to be at home with my friends and family, even if they don’t understand why I retired so young.”

“Dad doesn’t get it either. He’s all about the stupid footy draft, even though it’s still years away. How my stats match up against his.”

At Nate’s confused expression, Callum explained. “He was supposed to have this amazing professional career, but my mum died. He quit to take care of me, give us a more stable life.”

Several puzzle pieces clicked together in Nate’s mind.

“He says it’s the best opportunity for a good life for me, but he doesn’t even know me. All he sees is the future he never got to have. You should’ve heard how excited he was about this magazine thing. He’s going to send copies to all the clubs. Make sure they know I’m”—Callum pulled a face—“a rising talent.”

Nate slowed his pace, and Callum matched his stride. “Have you tried talking to your dad?”

“He doesn’t care,” Callum said as they passed the fifty-metre line.

Nate stopped, unable to not give this moment with Callum his full attention. Not that he hadn’t been paying attention, because he had, stockpiling everything the teenager said so he could revisit it later, try to find a way to help, but this was a big fucking deal. It wasn’t so long ago—okay, it was almost fifteen years ago now, but whatever, the memory was so visceral it could’ve been yesterday—that Nate had been in a similar position.

Luckily, his parents had known the right question to ask, gifting Nate one of the best learning moments they could’ve ever bestowed upon him. And this was his opportunity to pay it forward. Callum waited, eyebrows raised, arms crossed defiantly.

“Are you going to tell me that my dad only wants what’s best for me?”

Nate pushed his wet hair off his face. “Forget about your dad. He doesn’t matter. Not right now. This is about knowing yourself. Knowing what you want. Who you want to be. And it’s okay if you don’t know the answers to those questions. Or if they make you uncomfortable. I sure as hell didn’t know who I was at your age or what I wanted my future to look like. The best advice I can give you, or anyone else, is to start thinking about it now but to remember it’s okay to change your mind. To try different things. Take chances. Stand up for yourself. You’re the one who has to live with your choices.” The rain picked up, and there was a crack of thunder in the distance.

“Dude. That was intense,” Callum said with a puff of laughter at the end.

“I mean it, though. You can’t live your life for other people. Learning when to say yes or no is something everyone has to do. And you’re going to hate this, and you should know it makes me feel ten thousand years old to even say it, but you’re so young. You don’t have to make these decisions right now. Just start thinking about them.”

Callum’s dad’s truck pulled into the car park, rolling to a stop next to Nate’s. They trudged up the stairs, back under the cover of the pavilion. Rain continued to thrum against the tin roof.

“Why’d you really leave the NFL?” Callum asked, picking up his gym bag.

This was another question Nate had answered a million times. Normally, he said what people expected to hear. The toll on his body had been too much. He wasn’t prepared to risk his future for a few more years, more money he didn’t need. “Because it didn’t make me happy anymore. I wanted more.”

“More what?”

“More for me.”

“Did you find it?”

“I’m still working on it,” Nate replied, a hint of warmth ghosting over his rain-chilled skin as he thought about his life here. The extra time with his family. Feeling like he fit in. Eloise. He’d bet she was sitting at the island bench, her laptop in front of her, typing furiously on one of the fifteen documents it seemed like she was always working on. Dinner would be bubbling on the stove—soup or something cosy and comforting. She always seemed to incorporate the bread he baked into her dishes.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating the dark sky.

“Thanks for tonight,” Callum said when his father honked his horn, hurrying him along.

Nate reached into his gym bag and pulled out one of the business cards he barely ever gave out. “This is my number. You can call me any time you want to talk, okay? And if you want, I’m happy to talk to your dad, too.”

After Callum had left, Nate settled into his car, started the engine and twisted the heater to the highest setting. Warm air swept across his body and Nate relaxed against the seat.

Time to go home and let himself have a little more of what he wanted.

* * *

“What are you doing here?You’re not supposed to drive in the rain.” Eloise ushered Joanie inside and helped her out of her raincoat before stowing her umbrella by the door. Echo was sprawled across the rug in front of the fireplace, only her head resting on her enormous dog bed like it was a pillow.

“I was at Lulu’s and thought I’d be able to make it home, but it’s too wet. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit.”

Eloise hugged her grandmother, breathing in the gardenia-scented soap she’d always used. It smelt like home and reminded her of all the mornings when Joanie had taken her and Charlie to school when her parents were at work. It’d only been a couple of weeks, but she still wasn’t used to not seeing Joanie every day. “I miss being stuck with you.”

“And it’s no secret I’ve been trying to score an invite here for years.” Joanie leant back and winked.

“I’m not even mad that you have an ulterior motive.” Eloise led her over to the big couch, moving their sketchbooks to the coffee table.

Joanie sat down and crossed her legs. “And I’m not mad that I wasn’t technically invited.”

Eloise rolled her eyes and bit back a retort about Joanie never needing an invitation, remembering this wasn’t actually her house. She might’ve figured out where all the stuff was in the kitchen, but she hadn’t asked Nate about having guests over. It was no secret he was a private guy. Besides, she’d been so slammed with searching for the right social worker to cover her job while she was away. Trying to distil everything she did had been a nightmare. Finally satisfied with what she’d put together, she now had the difficult job of sifting through all the applications. Loads had already been vetoed due to a lack of experience.

Her chest tightened as she mentally reviewed the list of everything she had to do before she left.

“Any updates on our house?” she asked.

“I’m still chasing paperwork for the insurers. It’s going to be a little while. All this rain isn’t helping either. Where’s your man?”

Thinking of Nate as her man sent a thrill through Eloise, waking up parts of her body and making them ache.

“He’s at training.”

“In this?” Joanie cocked her pink hair towards the dreary weather outside.

“He didn’t want to disappoint anyone who turned up.” Eloise moved into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. This place already felt too much like home, but she was still scared of the fancy coffee machine. “Cup of tea?”

“Please. There’s something else I wanted to talk about.” So typical of Joanie to dive right in. She stood up and came over to the island bench, rummaging in her pink handbag. She pulled out her glasses case, three lipsticks, all in similar shades of fuchsia, and a bottle of hand sanitiser. “It’s in here somewhere.”

Eloise placed two Starbucks coffee cups on the bench. Nate had a wide collection. Today they’d be pretending they were in Boston and Dublin. It was yet another reminder that while travel had been nothing more than a pipe dream for her, Nate had already been everywhere. “Everything okay?”

“I know you’re worried about money for your trip.”

Eloise paused, one hand on the fridge door. “Oh, no, Joanie. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. I’ve done my sums like Grandad taught me.” She’d be eating a lot of ramen, and any extra travel she’d have liked to do was impossible, but if Eloise was careful and she cashed in all the annual leave she’d saved over the last few years, she could stretch her savings far enough. Besides, she was going there to learn, not gallivant around the States ticking items off her bucket list. She’d go back one day and see the national parks she’d dreamt about visiting. The Highline in New York wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were the Californian beaches nor the Rockies.

“Aha! Found it!” Joanie held up a small bit of paper. She unfolded it carefully and pushed it towards Eloise.

It was a cheque. Written in her grandmother’s perfect cursive, courtesy of her decades as a teacher, were the words thirty thousand dollars.

Eloise blinked.

Then blinked again.

She’d never seen so much money.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, holding on to the edge of the bench, not daring to touch the paper that would literally solve all her money problems. Her sweet, sweet grandmother. There was no way she could accept it.

“Oh, darling. It’s pretty straightforward.” Joanie dabbed at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief, and the waver in her voice made Eloise sniffle. “That’s your adventure money.”

“Joanie.” Eloise’s voice broke, and she swallowed deeply. “I can’t …”

“Of course you can. I meant what I said. It’s yours, darling.”

“No, it’s not. I love you so much for offering, but …”

Joanie tutted, trying and failing to get herself onto one of the stools on the other side of the counter. “God. Are these made for giants or something? I need a ladder. Now, you can accept this, and you will. It’s your money!”

Why does she keep saying that?

“It’s not. You should go on a holiday with your friends or get yourself something nice.” She picked up the cheque and held it towards her grandmother.

“Honestly. You’re supposed to be the smart one and don’t tell Charlie I said that.” Joanie sighed loudly, but the teasing whisper in her voice told Eloise she wasn’t serious. “Darling. This is all your rent money. I rounded up a little bit to make it a nice even number.”

Eloise looked down at the thin rectangle of paper. Her rent contribution was laughable at best. Joanie had always insisted she didn’t need much help to keep the cottage running.

“I never liked you paying me rent. Seemed like I was taking advantage when having you as my roomie has been the most fun of my life. But now it’s time for you to go and have your adventure.”

The band around Eloise’s chest pulled tight again, and she rushed around the bench to wrap her arms around her grandmother.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, raising a hand to wipe her eyes.

“Just say you’ll have the best time ever. Go out and see this big, wide world that you’ve been desperate to explore since you were small. Promise?”

Eloise nodded, her throat thick and eyes watery.

“Although, something tells me you won’t be coming back to live with me when you come home.”

“Joanie,” Eloise whispered.

“He looks at you like you hung the moon. This is it, darling. I’ve got a feeling.” Joanie reached for her handkerchief again. “I’ve been hoping you two would figure out what’s always been right in front of you both. And now look at you: two adventures for the price of one. And then marriage and babies and all that wonderfulness. When you’re ready, of course. Now, you know what the perfect way would be to celebrate?” Joanie asked as she used her handkerchief to dry Eloise’s eyes.

“What?”

“Some harmless snooping. I need to know how your man keeps his hair so damn shiny all the time. Which way to his bathroom?”

A laugh caught Eloise by surprise. “Joanie!”

“What?”

“We’re not going to snoop through Nate’s things.”

“Okay. Just the bathroom. No bedroom.”

“No snooping.”

“That’s a relief,” his deep voice said.

“Eeek. Busted,” Joanie whispered. Eloise looked over her grandmother’s shoulder, her breath catching at the sight in front of her.

Nate was all wet, his workout clothes glued to his body, leaving very little to her imagination. His hair was slicked back, the drops of water caught in his beard glittering under the light over the front door. His shoulders were loose, and she wanted to kiss the smirk off his face. As if he could read her thoughts, his smile widened. She felt the full force of his happiness as if it was a wave storming into the beach, crushing everything underneath it but, you know, with a more cheerful vibe.

“No one’s ever looked at me like that.” Joanie sighed, ruining the moment. “Shall I give you two some privacy? I can’t compete with those bedroom eyes.”

Nothing like being cockblocked by her grandmother.

“I’ll get you a towel,” Eloise said to Nate, needing a second to collect herself.

Eloise rushed down the hall, sucking deep breaths all the way down to her belly, trying to slow her heart rate from pounding to something reasonable. Seeing Nate like this had caused a throb to start between her legs. She grabbed the first towel she found and pressed a hand over her chest. If this was her reaction to seeing Nate kind of naked, what would it be like when they finally had sex?

And why did Joanie have to be here right now?

Eloise shook her head, admonishing herself for being so selfish, especially when Joanie had just literally solved one of her biggest problems.

Pasting a calm expression on her face, Eloise opened the hall door. Her grandmother’s voice filtered through. “Need any help with those wet clothes?”