Just This Once (34 page)

She was in love with Drew. She wasn’t just having a good
time, enjoying his company. She’d been in love with him, she told herself
honestly, since before she had left home. That was why she had moved. Sure, she
had told herself she was moving for the job. And seeing how their relationship
developed. But who was she kidding? This was the reason for her reluctance to
take anything from him. She had tried to protect herself from being hurt,
because deep down inside, she had known she
would
be hurt. Because what
she had responded to in him, right from the start, had been his strength, that
quality Reka had described in him. She wanted to lean on him, to use him to
prop her up when she wasn’t feeling strong herself.

What would happen to her when he moved on? She needed to
stop herself from taking his caring attention for granted. Needed to guard her
heart. That treacherous heart gave a lurch at the thought of pulling back, of
not seeing him anymore.

She couldn’t do anything about it anyway, not during the
World Cup, she thought desperately. She couldn’t distract him, not at this critical
stage in the campaign. And, she confessed to herself, she wanted more time with
him. If this were going to end, she wanted this time to remember.

She’d make the most of the time they had now, as much as she
had of it, she decided. Would watch him play with her heart in her throat. Would
spend a quiet day with him afterwards, help him recover and wind down after
each brutal contest. Would be there for him now, when he needed her. And worry
about the rest later.

“Did you hear, Reka had the baby?” Drew asked on Wednesday, calling
from the team hotel. “Had him Monday night. Good timing, eh. Hemi was with her
by then. He’ll be back here tomorrow. Got a couple days there, anyway.”

“That’s wonderful. How’s she doing? And the baby?” Hannah asked
eagerly. “It was a boy? I’m surprised they didn’t know the sex beforehand. I
wondered about that.”

“Everyone’s fine,” he assured her. “And that was Reka. Said
she had one of each, so she wanted to be surprised this time. Wouldn’t let Hemi
look either, on the scan.”

“She gets what she wants, that’s for sure,” Hannah laughed.
“But I’m so pleased for them. I’ll give her a call tomorrow, see if she’d like
some company once Hemi goes back.”

“Yeh, you should call her. Her mum’s there, helping with the
kids. But I’m sure she’d like to see you. Hemi’s not happy about leaving her, I
know. He’d be glad to hear you popped by.”

“I’m not going to stay long and tire you out,” Hannah
assured a happy Reka early the next evening. “I just couldn’t resist getting a
look at him.”

“Hold him, if you like,” Reka offered, as Hannah bent over
the little bundle in the bassinet. “Take advantage of the quiet time, while Mum
has the kids at McDonald’s.”

“I don’t want to wake him up.”

“He’s just had a feed,” Reka assured her. “He’s good for a
bit now. And they’re easiest like that, when they’re asleep.”

“He’s so adorable,” Hannah sighed, picking up the swaddled
bundle with her hand supporting the tiny head. She settled herself on a chair
next to the couch where Reka rested, carefully adjusting her hold so the baby
was secure in her arms.

“They have to be like that, don’t they. Otherwise their mums
would never go to all the trouble,” Reka smiled.

Despite her words, Hannah could see Reka’s flush of pride at
her beautiful new son. “Hemi must be thrilled,” she offered, stroking the soft
cheek under the warm knit cap.

“Over the moon. He says we need a matched set now, though.”

Hannah laughed. “He could at least let you recover from
childbirth before he starts talking about Number Four.”

“Easy for him to say,” Reka agreed. “He only has to do the
fun bit.”

“Have you decided on the name yet?” was Hannah’s next
question. “I know you’d narrowed it down, but I never heard the final
decision.”

“Lucas. Luke for short.”

“I like that. Very manly and strong.”

“Well, not so manly yet. But he’ll be there soon enough. You’ll
be wanting one of your own, one day soon,” Reka said, watching Hannah’s tender
delight in the newborn.

“I wondered how long it would take you to get around to
that.” Hannah cuddled the little body closer to her. “I love kids. I guess
that’s no secret. But I don’t know. I wasn’t so good with my brother and
sister, a lot of the time. You’re so loving with your kids. You and Hemi both.
That’s the way it ought to be, I know.”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t be just as loving?” Reka
objected. “Seems to me you already are.”

“Because I know how I was,” Hannah tried to explain. “How
often I was impatient. How often I resented them.”

She sighed, looking down at Luke’s sweet baby skin, his dark
lashes lying spikily against his puffy cheeks. “I remember once,” she went on
slowly, “my brother lost his homework on the way to school, and came back
crying. I went with him to look for it, but I was so annoyed, because all I could
think was how I was going to be late to school myself. I didn’t comfort him or
anything. What kind of parenting would that be?”

“How old were you?” Reka asked her.

“Fourteen, fifteen, in there.”

“How would you know how, at that age? Who was showing you
how to do it?”

Hannah stopped. Stared at Reka. “I never thought of it like
that,” she faltered. “I’ve felt so guilty, always. About my sister especially.
I’ve wished so often that I could go back, do it differently. Do it better.”

“Do your brother and sister blame you, then?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. We’re very close. We always
have been. I’m lucky.”

“They were lucky too, I reckon. Lucky that they had someone
who loved them so much, who tried so hard. There’s a reason girls aren’t
supposed to be mothers in their teens, Hannah. Because they aren’t ready for
it. And now you’re grown, aren’t you. Ready to do it right, this time.
Especially if you weren’t doing it alone. It helps to have a good man to be the
dad, you know.”

Hannah flushed. “I’m really not ready to think about that. And
I need to let you get some rest now.” She reluctantly surrendered little Luke
to his bassinet again, watching his sweet lips purse as he settled into sleep.
“But thank you, Reka. Thank you for being so kind.” She leaned down, gave the
other woman a hug and kiss. “You’re a good friend. And you have a beautiful
son. I’m so happy for you.”

“Can’t wait until I can say the same thing to you,” Reka
told her seriously. “You deserve it. I hope you realize that. But come back and
visit me again soon. And give Drew my love when you see him this weekend.”

Hannah tried to push the thought of the future out of her head
during the next few weeks. She was really too busy to think about it anyway.
Working during the week, trying to focus in an atmosphere of World Cup fever
that seemed to have the whole country in its spell. The excitement was
contagious, the newspapers full of the team and the games, the conversation
everywhere centered around the contest and the All Blacks’ chances of victory.

And then, every weekend, traveling to Australia to watch
Drew play. Spending time in Melbourne one week, Brisbane the next, and finally
in Sydney, exploring the beautiful Australian cities as she tried not to worry
about the game ahead. A quiet day with Drew afterwards as he nursed his
injuries, his body more battered after each brutal contest.

The final pool game had been as anticlimactic as expected,
the All Blacks notching up 68 points against a woefully outmanned Namibian
team. But with the beginning of the quarterfinals, all that had changed. First
had come a tough win over a strong Irish team. Then, a week later, an easier
victory over a surprisingly ineffective English squad, which seemed to have
chosen this moment to implode, to the New Zealand public’s delighted relief.
Any success against the Poms was savored, the onetime colony always thrilled to
dominate their erstwhile masters. This semifinal victory was especially sweet,
though, in its thoroughness and as the means of launching the All Blacks into
the final.

And now, in just a few days, the matchup would arrive that
everyone in New Zealand had simultaneously hoped for and dreaded throughout the
two months of the tournament. The Wallabies, Australia’s national team, had
long been one of the All Blacks’ toughest competitors. Both teams had won the
World Cup twice, and were well matched in skill and tactics. Both were coached
by New Zealanders and knew each others’ strengths and weaknesses. It would be a
true World Cup matchup, and the tension in both countries proved it.

Hannah had been surprised by the intensity of the rivalry.
Like many in the outside world, she had thought of the two countries almost
synonymously, if she had considered them at all. She found, though, that the
transtasman contests were the hardest fought of any, in an atmosphere of almost
sibling rivalry. Losing the World Cup would be hard in any case. Losing to
Australia would be a crushing blow.

Now all the preliminaries were over, and the final game was
upon them. Hannah had arrived in Sydney on Wednesday, well in advance of
Sunday’s event. After Thursday and Friday morning stints in the VIP tent,
enduring speculative glances and curious questions, sparked, she knew, by
Kathryn’s behind-the-scenes explanations and hints, she was more than glad to
leave. For once, the players had been spared an afternoon practice, given one
last chance to relax before preparations for the game resumed, and she and Drew
had arranged to spend a quiet Friday afternoon together.

“Will you be all right sitting outside?” she wondered, when
they stopped at a harborside café for a late lunch. “It’s busy here. Would you
rather be inside?”

“Nah,” Drew shrugged. “We may as well enjoy the sunshine.”
He leaned back, sighing, watching the boats on the water, and relapsed into
silence.

“Hi,” The moment of quiet was broken by a group of young
women approaching their table. “You’re Drew Callahan, aren’t you?”

 “I am,” he answered evenly.

“That’s so awesome,” one of the women breathed. “Will you
autograph my shoulder for me?” She turned her back, exposing her tanned, toned
shoulder and back in a skinny tank top, pulling her blonde hair flirtatiously
to the side with one long arm and cocking her hip.

“Sorry,” he told her. “I don’t autograph body parts. My
girlfriend doesn’t like it.”

The blonde pouted in disappointment as she pivoted back,
flashing a length of tanned leg and tossing her mane of streaked hair.

“Good luck on Sunday,” another of the women put in. “We’ll
be watching you.” She smiled at him, lascivious eyes and curving mouth
telegraphing an unmistakable message. To Hannah’s relief, their food arrived,
and Drew was able to turn away with a nod. She saw how the women’s avid gazes
remained on him even as they moved away, and cringed a little.

“They look at you like they want to devour you,” she
muttered as she picked up her fork. “They weren’t even from New Zealand. Can’t
they find somebody from the Australian team to bother?”

He smiled. “Just a little starstruck, that’s all.”

He had barely started on his own sandwich when two older
couples approached the table.

“Don’t want to interrupt your lunch,” one of the men said
politely. Then why did you, Hannah thought. “But we want to wish you luck.
We’ll be backing Black on Sunday.”

“Thanks for your support,” Drew answered. “We’ll do our
best.” 

“Maybe we should have had room service instead,” he smiled
ruefully after yet another interruption, this time by young boys, for whom he
did sign autographs. “My disguise doesn’t seem to be working. Finish your
salad, and we’ll head back to your hotel. I’d like to get you back there
anyway,” he teased, seeing that she had been upset by the interruptions. 

“You’re quiet today,” he observed after they had reached the
sanctuary of her hotel room again. “You’ve been that way these past weeks, now
that I think about it. I know it’s hard, all this. Just a couple more days to
go. There’ll be a few more obligations after that. Then we can take a trip to
the Coromandel, have a chance to relax. It’s been a long season. I’m ready to
have a beer without having to think about next week’s game. And to spend some
time with you.”

Hannah smiled cautiously. “I’m not sure,” she temporized.
“I’ve taken a lot of time off to come to these games. Plus all that time when I
was sick, earlier this year. I’ll have to see. Let’s just wait till after the
final. I know that’s all you can really think about right now.”

He looked at her more sharply. “Thought we’d talked about
it,” he said slowly. “Are there problems at work, then?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong at work. It’s going well. I just think
we shouldn’t look too far ahead, that’s all.”

“Why not?” he asked bluntly. “Why don’t you want to make
plans? What’s happened during these past weeks, anyway? I know I haven’t paid
much attention to you. Is that it?”

“No. I understand that,” she assured him. “It’s just . . .
this whole fame thing. Seeing you in the paper every day. Being with you here,
seeing all that attention. Those girls. It’s made me realize that I’m not equipped
to deal with all of it. I didn’t mean to say this. Not now. But it’s been
there.”

“So let me understand this,” he said slowly. “You don’t want
to go away with me. Because my photo’s in the paper too much, and people
recognize me.”  

“I just can’t handle this legend thing.” She struggled to
explain. “It’s getting worse and worse. When I flew over here, I had to walk
past a life-size picture of you, staring at me, on the jetway. My coffee cup on
the flight had your picture on it, for heaven’s sake! It’s all too strange for
me. You need somebody more glamorous, who can fit into this celebrity
lifestyle. Who can deal with you being that kind of symbol for the country.”