Always and Forever: Rugby Brothers, Book 3 Read online

  “Always.”

  “And call Spurgeon!” Connor yelled from the car.

  After they disappeared from his sight, Mano walked back into the house, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. The emptiness didn’t bother him. He looked toward the kitchen: not a thing out of place. Few people would have associated such an immaculate setting to three rugby players living together for weeks.

  There was no suggestion of bacchanalia-type festivities; no alcohol bottles or cans scattered on the floor; not one broken window. Instead, the aluminum sink shone; the fridge was full of fruit, vegetables, yogurt, and skimmed milk. The kitchen counter smelled of lemon spray. The floors were swept, and fluffed cushions decorated the sofa. Mano shook his head, a smile resting on his lips. Connor.

  They would have stayed if they thought he was in any more danger. Now it was up to him to move his life forward. To keep going. It had been nearly two months since Margot left. He had accepted the reality of a life without her almost immediately. What he hadn’t been able to do was decide how to live it.

  He looked at the folded sheet of paper, still in his hand, and opened it.

  * * *

  Alistair Montgomery

  Athletics Director

  St. Anne’s College

  Seven Hills, California

  (555) 555-3214

  * * *

  He had always liked California.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Six months later. Seven Hills, CA.

  She was pushing it but silently prayed that her father wouldn’t notice the slight delay in getting back.

  One more lap…just one more won’t hurt….

  She could feel her kick being less potent as she turned the wall, her arms less precise as they cut through the water. Just an extra ten minutes longer than her regular Saturday morning, but she wanted to push herself further today. In a schedule that was detailed to the minute, this was a slight indulgence.

  When her hands touched the wall, she blew out of her mouth before dunking herself in and out of the water in a ritual she first started when she was seven. Ten dunks. Blow as many bubbles as you can…. She could still hear the voice of her first swim coach decades later. Those early lessons lasted a lifetime. It was fortunate her first coach was someone who knew what she was talking about.

  Eden surveyed the indoor pool. She had been the first one in at five this morning. Two hours later, all ten lanes were used. She spotted the bright pink cap of Linda Wellens, her teammate, and captain of the local Masters team. Ten years older, Linda was one of the first people to encourage her to return to competing but at the Masters level. Eden smiled at the memory; who knew the words of a stranger could plant a seed to an idea that wouldn’t go away?

  Eden was just about to pull herself out of her lane when Linda called out, “Do you have a minute?”

  Eden swam to the rope. “Everything okay?”

  Linda rested her goggles on her forehead. “Why is it that —as we become older— the first thing we ask of each other is whether everything is okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In your twenties, did you automatically think something could be wrong when someone stops you and asks for some of your time?”

  Eden laughed, pulling off her swim cap. She leaned her head back to wet her head. “No. Okay, let’s try again. What can I do for you?”

  “Rumor has it that Jordan Kennedy has asked you to work out with his team.”

  Eden frowned. “He just texted me last night. How did you know?”

  Linda flashed a wide smile. “I didn’t. But someone who knew someone had asked. I couldn’t confirm anything but can now. Well? Are you going to do it?”

  Eden chewed on the bottom of her lip. “I don’t know. It’s a pretty elite team. Nearly everyone has swum at Nationals before.”

  “Of course it’ll be elite. It’s Jordan Kennedy. Everyone knows he has ambitions to get the Berkeley club swimmers on top of as many podiums as possible at Nationals. Has a mission, that kid. I like it. That it’s not over after swimming at college.”

  “He’s been very successful.”

  “You should do it.”

  Eden grimaced. “I don’t know.”

  “You can hold your own with any of them. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

  “There’s some etiquette involved here with my former swim club.”

  “I hadn’t realized they had asked you too.”

  Eden sighed. “They didn’t.”

  Linda’s eyes showed her understanding. “Doesn’t matter. You broke the over-30s record in the 50 meters three weeks ago. Right now, you’re one point two seconds away from qualifying for Nationals in that event. And you’re just under two seconds away for qualifying in the 100 meters. Don’t you want to know if you can still compete against some of the fastest swimmers in the world?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird for you to know my times so well?”

  Linda’s laugh echoed through the pool room. “Sweetheart, when more than half your life is spent in the pool thinking in nanoseconds, it’s just second nature to remember things like that. One point two seconds away from qualifying for Nationals, Eden. One point two.”

  “I have to think about it.”

  Linda pulled her goggles down. “If it were me making those times, I wouldn’t be here talking to some old lady about it. I’d be swimming with a future National champion with broad shoulders and tight Speedos.

  Before Eden could say anything, Linda disappeared from her view, the latter’s silhouette moving stealth-like underwater before emerging a good ten meters away. Not that she had anything to say in response to Linda’s statements.

  One point two seconds to cut. Doable over a decade ago when her body was younger, and swimming was all she had to focus on. But now? Hitting the pool five days a week was a victory in itself.

  Eden glanced at the large clock on the wall. She had eight minutes to rinse off, put on some dry clothes, and get into the car. Then hopefully, assuming no surprises on the drive back to the apartment, her dad would be on his way back to the city seventeen minutes after she drove out of the parking lot.

  She changed out of her swimsuit and into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt with practiced efficiency. She didn’t mind being damp on the drive back, the driver’s seat already covered with a towel.

  Light traffic on the weekend wasn’t unusual, but the streets were far from empty. The line at the drive-through coffee stand was already five cars long. While the local schools hadn’t officially started, there were plenty of year-round sports that kept all the drive-throughs busy on the weekends.

  Seven Hills attracted active families. Nestled in the East Bay Hills half an hour outside of San Francisco, it was originally a ranching community that was quickly forgotten by those attracted to the busier, more cosmopolitan neighborhoods closer to the city. Back in the day, one drove by Seven Hills to get somewhere else. It hadn’t even warranted a mention in the local traffic reports.

  Then Sister Mary Francis of St. Anne’s College for Women emerged from the convent in the hills to begin fundraising for Freshman Joan Myers, who was just under a second away from setting the fastest hundred meters time in track and field in 1950. But Joan’s dreams of Games glory weren’t supported at home when her mother insisted that her daughter’s future was better served in the classroom than on the track.

  Fortunately, Sister Mary Francis was not just Joan Myers’ advisor and confidant. Before she took her vows, Sister Mary Francis was Lucy Barnet, fencer, who represented Wales in the Commonwealth Games. She recognized the competitive fire in young Miss Myers’ spirit, and thus began St. Anne’s transition from a college primarily focused on academics to an institution of higher learning which had produced over a dozen world champions and Games medalists in various sports.

  And now, Eden played a part in adding to St. Anne’s celebrated history, though not as an athlete, but in administration. Eden smiled. It was a dream job in many way
s. It paid the bills; she loved getting to know the students, and she had access to top-notch training facilities.

  Not bad for a college-dropout.

  Precisely seven minutes and fifty seconds later—she scraped through a yellow light—Eden pulled into her parking spot, glancing up toward her apartment as she exited the car. The elderly figure on the small balcony held up his cup, his smile welcoming her home. She waved and watched him reenter her apartment. Whether she was thirteen or thirty-three, it felt nice knowing her dad was on the lookout to ensure she got home safe.

  She didn’t pass anyone as she took the four flights of stairs up to her apartment. That was expected to change in the next week when the new school year began.

  Eden had been lucky to have nabbed the small two-bedroom apartment close to the campus. There was no doubt that her boss’s references made the difference. Everyone wanted to be in the good books with St. Anne’s Director of Athletics. She had looked for a year, commuting for over an hour from the city until she secured the apartment. Like much of the Bay Area, affordable rentals were hard to come by, especially as a single parent with a limited income.

  “Dad?” She placed her keys in the bowl on the wooden console then threw her shoes in the basket by the door.

  “Kitchen!”

  She could still smell the slight scent of cinnamon in the air. Her stomach growled. One of the good things about being a swimmer-in-training was a four-thousand-calorie-a-day diet. She smiled at the silver-haired man handwashing the last of the dishes from breakfast.

  “Pancakes?” She bent slightly to kiss Robert Pak on the cheek.

  “Oven.”

  “You know we have a dishwasher for that,” she said as she peered into the still-warm oven.

  “Yeah, but I started with the pans and kept going. Aidan’s in the shower. Just woke up. He did say ‘good morning’ first, so keep that in mind before you lose your temper with him.”

  Eden made a face. “He starts it.”

  “And you have a choice whether to engage with him or not.”

  “I don’t remember either you or Pop ‘engaging’ with me when I gave you some lip back in the day.”

  “Ahh…but that was us. You’re supposed to do better than your parents. That boy is growing like a weed.”

  “Half an inch since you saw him.”

  “Got his dad’s genes.”

  “I’m not too shabby for an Asian.”

  “Half Asian, dear. Your mother’s genes are your saving grace. She was the swimmer. Otherwise, you’d be as short as me.” Robert wiped his hands on a kitchen towel then folded it neatly next to the sink. He looked around. “Okay. I think I’m done. I’ll see you in a month?”

  “Yes, but it’s dinner, remember? With Pop? For your anniversary?”

  Robert’s eyes widened. “I forgot!”

  Eden laughed. “Oh, Dad!”

  “Well, we’ve been together for so long… It’s all starting to feel the same.”

  “That’s not the happily-ever-after story your daughter wants to hear. And it’s a big deal. Thirty years. That’s worth celebrating for anyone, not least a nurse and a retired fire-fighter.”

  “Okay. But no gifts,” Robert warned as he picked up his backpack from the small round dining table. “You know how Pop feels about gifts. I, on the other hand, won’t make too big of a deal if you sneak something in a brown paper bag for me to take home.”

  “You’re getting a nice new set of Tupperware,” Eden teased. “Though I haven’t heard from Aunt Letty yet.”

  “I’ll give her a call. And don’t worry about Aidan. He’s a good boy. Just finding himself. It’s normal for thirteen-year-olds to push back a little. You’re doing a good job. You know that, right?”

  She sighed. “Sometimes, I just don’t know anymore.”

  “No parent knows everything. It’s normal not to know.” Robert put his arm around Eden’s waist as she draped her arm over his shoulders. They walked toward the front door. “Aidan says you’re heading to the airport?”

  Eden checked her watch. “I’m impressed. It took you over ten minutes to bring it up. I assume your grandson said who it is we’re meeting at the airport?”

  Robert clicked his tongue. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to pick him up. He’s a big enough superstar in the world of rugby that Alistair wanted to greet him in person. I take it you know who he is?”

  Robert feigned a hurt look. “What kind of rugby fan would I be if I didn’t know who Mano Palua is? There’s only a handful of people in the world who can claim a world championship; the man has two!”

  Eden laughed. “Aidan said the exact same thing. You’re a terrible influence on him.”

  “How did Alistair get one of the all-time greats to come out to St. Anne’s? And why isn’t this all over the website?”

  “Mr. Palua didn’t want anything announced until he arrived. Alistair had a tough time with that one, but I guess this guy must be a bigger deal than I thought if Alistair conceded on that point.”

  “Mano Palua is more than a big deal. He’s part of rugby history.” Robert tilted his head slightly. “Sounds like St. Anne’s is finally getting serious about the sport. You have a ton of talent there.”

  “Yes. But it’s always been about funding. Whatever anyone says about Alistair, no one will argue against his networking skills. He made a new friend who likes rugby a lot. Then there’s the professional league expanding. Alistair knows a trend when he sees one.”

  “How much is ‘a lot’?”

  “I know nothing, heard nothing, and saw nothing. But it’s a lot of zeros in the donation to the program.”

  Robert whistled. “Is Mano Palua coming with family?”

  “I don’t think so. Well, not flying with him anyway. Alistair only mentioned him, and Mr. Palua didn’t say anything about traveling with anyone else in his email.”

  “You’ve been writing to him?”

  “Just one email, Dad! Had to introduce myself, so he knows not to expect a tall, balding guy at the airport.”

  “I don’t mind being late for work.”

  “No, but your patients and the other people on your team would. Go already! You can fangirl about him at one of our matches.”

  “Well, if he doesn’t know anyone else and is traveling alone, he can join us for dinner next month.”

  “Dad! It’s supposed to be a family thing. We can’t invite a stranger to your anniversary.”

  “You know I have a soft spot for new people in our country.”

  “You have a soft spot for rugby. Period. It’s why you visit us more often during the season, isn’t it?”

  “It brings me back to my halcyon days on the East Coast when I was young and active. Just me and your dad. The two Pak brothers! The only Koreans in Bergen County playing rugby. We were small, but our little legs carried us far!”

  “Oh, Dad!”

  “Invite him. If I could have a ten-minute conversation with an All Black, you’ll never have to buy me another present again. But, you know, no pressure.”

  Eden groaned. “I thought it was the child who was supposed to push for unreasonable requests.” She glanced at the wall clock in the hallway. “You’d better get going. I know it’s Saturday, but you never know what traffic is like going over the bridge. And thanks for staying over, Dad.”

  Robert hesitated, his eyes on the brass doorknob. “I wish I could help out more with Aidan, but with Pop’s mom the way she is…”

  Eden tightened her arm across her father’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. She’d been taller than him since she was thirteen. “I know. It’s okay. You and Pop need to look after Grandma Mattie. Pop’s her favorite and probably the only one who can get her to follow the doctor’s orders.”

  Robert grinned. “You’re right there. Oh wait, I just remembered. Does this rugby guy need a car? After Mattie’s stroke, we’re selling it.”

  “I’ll ask. Will yo
u send me the information?”

  After locking the door, Eden walked down the hallway and knocked on Aidan’s door. Aidan’s angst at transferring to a new middle school was somewhat appeased when he realized he could get his own room. The door had remained mostly shut ever since the last box was unpacked. However, she drew the line at it being locked. He tested her rule right away and came back to his door off its hinges. He hadn’t broken that rule since.

  “You okay in there, bud?” she asked through the door.

  “Yeah.”

  “We leave in an hour for the airport, okay? And don’t forget a sweater. It’s always cold at the airport.” Eden waited. “Aidan?”

  “Yes! I heard you. One hour! Sweater! Geez…”

  Eden closed her eyes and counted to ten. Didn’t work. She still wanted to scream back but took a deep breath and counted to twenty. “I’m taking a shower if you need anything.”

  She turned her head to listen.

  Nothing.

  At least she knew his attitude wasn’t directed only at her. Brandon had actually called her the day after one of Aidan’s weekend stays with him, sharing how Aidan had been exceptionally rude to both him and Lisa. As soon as she heard his comments, her heart began to race. Eden automatically braced herself for any criticism her ex-boyfriend could throw at her about her parenting skills. But she underestimated Brandon.

  Instead of judgment, he wanted to work with her on a plan. Would she stay for dinner when Aidan next stayed for the weekend? Maybe between Brandon, Lisa, and herself, they could come up with some ideas on how to remain “consistent” with parenting their son.

  “Is this really your idea, Brandon?” she had asked. Sure enough, he admitted it was his wife’s idea. While a good father, he was never one to initiate anything. Then he married Lisa, and things started to change—for the better. Eden didn’t know which soap opera this scenario would be believable in, but she was sure Brandon’s new wife had a lot to do with his more involved parenting.

  Aidan was already in the living room when she emerged from her bedroom, now changed and free from any scent of chlorine. Saturdays were “whatever-you-want-to-do” mornings. Usually, that translated to whatever was on TV. Right now, it seemed to be some type of anime series. She rustled Aidan’s hair then found a bowl of cut fruit in the fridge—thanks, Dad! —poured herself a tall glass of orange juice, and started on the still-warm stack of whole wheat pancakes. She sat facing the small balcony which overlooked the trail that meandered into a small grove of redwood trees. The trail was popular with both runners and cyclists, especially on a bright late summer morning such as this one.