Just This Once (36 page)
When the second half began, the All Blacks seemed to raise
the bar a notch. Drew was everywhere on the field, exploding into the
opposition with fierce tackles, barking out orders, forcing a turnover. The
score remained stubbornly unchanged, however, as the minutes ticked down.
With twenty minutes to go, Hemi reversed during a run,
stumbled, and went down. Hannah’s breath caught as she saw him struggle vainly
to rise, saw Drew standing over him and signaling the medical team. A replay
showed the hyperextension of his knee that had brought him down, and she
winced, imagining Reka’s distress as she watched from home.
Hemi was helped off the field, and his replacement ran on.
Still the score remained unchanged, as both teams’ defenses held firm, neither
side able to gain an advantage. Finally, with nine minutes left on the clock,
the All Blacks scored a try in a brilliantly choreographed series of moves that
broke the stiff Australian defense, and the supporters in black breathed a huge
sigh of relief at the reprieve. The kick following, however, went wide, and the
Australian fans cheered wildly as the score sat at 15 to 14 in favor of the All
Blacks.
It was too close, Hannah thought in despair. All the
Wallabies needed was a three-point penalty kick, and they would pull ahead
again. They hadn’t scored during the entire half, but she could see the All
Black defense tiring at the constant assault by the talented Australian backs.
With just six minutes left to play, the Australians had
moved within 20 meters of the New Zealand try line. As Drew tackled the Wallaby
player and began to pull back again from the ruck, he seemed to shudder. Then
fell to the ground, lying motionless.
Hannah strained, trying to see. The blood drained from her
head, and she felt sick as she searched the big screen overhead for some clue
to what was happening. The camera zoomed in on Drew as he slowly pulled his
knees under him, leaning on his hands for support, head down. And stayed there
as the medical team began to come out onto the field.
Time froze as she watched him, still down. The stadium grew
quieter as he stayed there, unable to rise, on hands and knees.
“Kneed in the head,” the man next to her explained to his
companion. “Got a good knock there. Reckon it may be lights out.”
“Bad news, eh,” the other man answered. “Don’t know if they
can hold, without him.”
Still on the turf, Drew shook his head as the medical team
approached. Pushed off with his hands, and slowly got to his feet, to a roar
from the crowd. Moved back into position and crouched, hands on knees, ready
for play to resume.
Hannah sat, her hands over her mouth, her heart thudding,
trying to process the fact that he was all right. Seeing him lying on the ground,
all his strength gone, something had shifted, changed inside her. She felt as
if she were seeing things in focus for the first time. She didn’t care, she
realized, what happened in this game. And it didn’t matter what happened in the
future. It didn’t matter if she got hurt. Because nothing could hurt more than
losing Drew right now.
All her anguish of the past two days began to make sense.
She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t throw away what they had. He mattered too
much to her. She loved him, and she needed him. She needed him to be safe, and
she needed to be with him, be there for him. Nothing else mattered, not any
more.
The entire stadium was a riot of sound and motion, as the
Australian fans shouted, pumped their fists, and chanted “Aussie! Aussie!
Aussie!,” their flags waving around them. The outnumbered All Black fans stood
too, but silently, as the minutes ticked down. Gone was any sense of festivity.
Their faces strained and their hands gripped as they tried to will their team,
their country, to victory.
Hannah didn’t care. She wanted, needed to get to Drew. Now.
Win or lose, she needed to hold him and know he was all right. Her heart was
with him, and she needed to be there, too. She began to fight her way through
the roaring, surging crowd, desperate to get to the exit and down to the edge
of the field.
She was in the corridor now, and she began to run, down the
ramps to the lowest level, cursing the huge stadium, afraid she would be too
late. That she would miss her chance. That she wouldn’t be able to get to Drew.
She made her way through another door, down to the lowest
level, just above the field. She saw that the All Blacks had regained
possession, and were grimly hanging on. Over and over, they set up in the
breakdown, passed, and passed again, holding onto the ball at all costs,
determined not to give the Wallabies another chance with it.
Up this close, Hannah could see the effort in faces and
straining bodies as they held on. The crowd was wild, shouting, cheering,
chanting, as the team carried the ball forward, passed it, unyielding in their
determination, focused only on holding the ball.
Now the noise level rose even higher, swollen by thousands
of Kiwi voices as the clock ticked down. Ten . . . nine . . . eight. They were
going to do it. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.
The clock showed 80:00 in its large, red numbers. An All
Black gave the ball a final kick out of touch, the referee blew the whistle, and
the game was over. New Zealand had held. Had won the Rugby World Cup.
All around her, the Australian fans cheered their team’s
effort, while the Kiwi chant swelled through the stadium. “All . . . Blacks.
All . . . Blacks.” Fans in black cried, jumped, cheered, and held each other in
exultant triumph, all the strain of the past 95 minutes now released in wild
jubilation.
Hannah noticed none of it. She saw the members of the team
embracing, and the bench emptying as the players there burst onto the field to
cheer, pump their fists, and share the moment with their teammates.
But Drew just stood, looking down, hands on hips, breathing
hard. And Hannah knew that he had somehow given more than his all. He had
reached down deep, and had found what it took to lead the team, and his country,
to this victory. She saw what it had taken out of him. The effort had taken
all his famous reserves of stamina and courage, and then he had found some
more. But it was too much.
She was still too far away. She needed to be with him. She
pushed back to the corridor and ran to another door. Still not close enough.
Another door, and another. Finally, she was as close as she could get to the
part of the field where the team gathered, still celebrating, hugging each
other and roaring their triumph.
Hannah pushed and pulled her way to the front of the crowd,
not caring how she got there, not knowing what she would do when she reached
him, what she would say. She only knew she had to be there, had to see him and
hold him.
Finally, she reached the edge of the barrier, with a
security guard in front of her. She ran to him, tried to explain. “Please,” she
gasped. “I have to see him. I have to see Drew Callahan.”
He put out an arm to stop her. “Have to stay back. You can
see the team. But you can’t go out there. Stay back,” he warned again.
She tried to argue, but she knew there was no way he was
going to let her get to Drew. She was trapped, irrationally desperate now.
Could she climb over? She began to lean across the barrier, the guard, alarmed,
coming forward to grab her, stop her from moving forward.
As she searched for a way over the barrier and tried
incoherently to explain to the security guard, now with his hand on her arm,
Drew looked up from the crowd of teammates, coaches, and support staff, his
eyes meeting hers. Then he was running to her, crossing the expanse of turf.
She reached out her arms to him blindly, and he hauled her bodily across the
barrier, the guard stepping back in surprise as Drew pulled her onto the field.
She threw her arms around him and just stood, trembling, holding
him tightly. Then pulled back, the words tumbling out in an urgent babble that
was beyond her power to control. “Are you all right? Are you . . . are you
hurt? Are you OK?”
He shook his head at her, beginning to smile. Hannah knew it
wasn’t true, could see the exhaustion and pain in his face, the scratches,
bruises, and patches of raw skin. She ran her hands up over his face, down his
arms, needing to check for herself that he was whole, that he was safe.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice catching. “I’m so sorry
for what I said. For what I did. I couldn’t stand it. I can’t stand it if
you’re hurt,” she burst out as she started to cry. “I need you to be here with
me. Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you and I need you to be with
me.”
She was sobbing in earnest now, shoulders shaking and chest
heaving, her nose running as the tears poured out. She threw her arms around
him again and held him to her, willing him to stay with her, to love her and
need her as she needed him. She hadn’t put it right, she thought in despair.
She didn’t know how to explain it to him, and she was out of control, and she
had done this all wrong.
Drew lifted her away from him, reached out to hold her face
in his hands. “Haven’t you heard, I don’t know when to quit? Take more than
that to get rid of me.” He laughed suddenly, exultant with joy and relief, and
hugged her hard to him again. “I love you,” he said, fierce in his triumph. “I
will always love you.”
He stood back from her again then, put his big hands on her shoulders,
and looked at her with level intensity. “I can’t promise never to die, Hannah,”
he said soberly. “I can’t promise to be perfect. And neither can you. But I can
promise that I’ll always take care of you. I’ll give you everything I have to
give. And whatever you face, I’ll be there to face it with you.”
She stood still, taking in his words. And slowly nodded. “I
can do that,” she told him. “I can be there for you, too. I promise. I’ll give
you all of me.” She laughed shakily then, through her tears. “I’ve sure shown
you I can cry, anyway. You know you have the weak parts, now.”
An assistant was with them then, motioning to Drew that it
was time for him to head to the microphone to give the winning captain’s
speech. He nodded briefly, then turned to Hannah again and laughed at her. “You’re
a mess. Here, wipe your face on my jersey. It’s buggered anyway.”
She smiled and wiped her face as best she could across his
chest, the skintight fabric already wet with sweat and blood. “I’m making it
even worse, though.”
“That’s why they’re black, eh,” he grinned at her. “Don’t go
anywhere. I’m coming back to you.”
As he strode off and the assistant directed her to a side
exit to wait for him, Hannah knew it was true. He would come back to her.
Always. There was no quit in Drew. He was hers. All the relief and joy she felt
swirled inside, leaving her light and giddy. I’m out of control, she told
herself happily. I’m a mess.
But it didn’t matter. She could relax now. There was no need
to hold back anymore. No need to guard her heart. She had given it to Drew, she
realized at last. He held it. And it was safe with him. Now and forever.
Hannah turned from the oven, where she was warming up the
dinner left by the housekeeper, when she heard Drew’s key in the door. He
dropped his kit in the entryway, and came to meet her with a hug and a kiss.
“You’re early,” she smiled up at him. “What a nice surprise.
How was practice?”
“Tell you later. I’m ready to be home and work on being weak
for a while. Want to be weak with me?”
“I can do that,” she assured him. “A bit tired today,
actually. Working with two of us in here is tougher, even with that nap you
force me to take.”
He put a hand over her barely visible belly. “How’s my son
today, besides tiring out his mother?”
“Hungry,” she sighed. “He must be growing into a rugby
player.”
They had found out the sex together a week earlier, when
they had seen their baby boy for the first time on the sonogram. Drew was
thrilled to be having a son, she knew, although he teased her that he hoped
being pregnant got better, because he needed a daughter to spoil, and soon.
He pulled her into his arms and held her in the way he
loved, his chin resting on the top of her head, her cheek pressed against his
heart. They stood like that for a minute, drawing strength and comfort from
each other’s presence.
She thought suddenly of how close she had come to throwing
all this away. How grateful she was to him for sticking with her, rescuing her
from her lonely self-sufficiency. And to herself for finally dropping her
defenses to let him in. He was her rock. Steadfast and solid. Overwhelmed with
love for him, she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “You have my
heart.”
He pulled back, his familiar intense gaze hard on her face.
Slowly, he smiled. “Changed my mind. I’m going to have to be strong a bit
longer tonight.” With that, he lifted her gently into his arms, his lightest
and most precious burden.
As he made his way toward the stairs, Hannah smiled up at
him. Nothing in the world, she thought happily, was better than being picked up
by her wonderful, perfect husband.
And Drew smiled back, and thought that of all the men he had
lifted off their feet, all the trophies he had held in his arms in his long
career, nothing in the world was better than picking up his beautiful,
imperfect wife.
Who was just perfect for him.
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