The Play

He shrugs and finally looks at me. His eyes are a bit wired looking, bloodshot. I’m guessing he didn’t sleep well either.

“I’m fine,” he says, getting out a frying pan to make some eggs. “So today you’re going to talk to work, yeah?”

Right. So this is weighing on him.

I nod, hoping my smile hides how unsure I am. Again, not about moving here it’s just…well, nothing is for certain it seems and all my fears keep sneaking up on me. “As soon as it rolls around to nine a.m. over there, I’m making the call.”

He studies me sharply. “You’re actually going to quit your job?”

Jesus. Did he have to voice it so plainly? My fear multiplies.

“Like we said.”

“Good,” he says and turns back to busying himself with breakfast.

“Are you all right?” I ask him, coming over and placing my hand on the hard, sinewy muscles of his back.

He pauses, his chin dipping down for a moment. “Yeah. No. Sorry. Sorry, love.” He gives me a tight smile. “One of those mornings when you wake up with a monkey on your back. You know?”

“Of course,” I tell him, reaching for a cup and pouring him some coffee. “But coffee is the cure for everything, we know this.”

“Thanks,” he says softly, taking it from me. “I’m just…holding my breath, I guess.” He takes a sip before putting it down and getting back to eggs. “And the first game is coming up, against Glasgow, and I both want to play and I don’t. I want to prove myself, that I’m back, but I don’t want to risk going out there and fucking it all up. Or fucking myself up.”

“I think you know your body better than anything,” I tell him, hoping I make sense. The last thing I want is for him to stress even more. “And your body knows exactly what to do to win a game. Granted, I haven’t seen you practice much but I would be totally lying if I told you I hadn’t been watch Youtube video after Youtube video of you playing, ru

“And us?” he asks, glancing at me. “What about us?”

“You should never worry about us,” I tell him and in the moment I say it, I believe it completely.

***

While Lachlan goes off to rugby practice, I stay in the flat thinking about all the phone calls I have to make. While I know it’s the right thing to do, what I want to do, I’m not sure how responsible it is. Okay, I know how responsible it isn’t. That’s what’s making me hesitate when I stare at the phone, turning it over and over in my hands, counting down to when I have to pull the trigger.

What if it doesn’t work out between us? What if I give up everything for him, to stay here, to be with him, and our relationship isn’t strong enough to survive whatever will be thrown our way? We’re so new at this, not just in terms of knowing each other, but in terms of love. We both haven’t had a lot of experience, least I know I haven’t. Not like this. And what if moving here is harder than it looks, that once the honeymoon period wears off I start resenting Lachlan for never having to make any sacrifices himself?

I don’t want that to happen. But if I don’t take the risk, I’ll never know. It’s the honest truth that I love him so much that it’s consuming me. My first encounter with him planted a seed and I had no idea how fast and lush it would grow inside of me. I’m tangled in love, hopelessly, as it grows over me like a beautiful weed, ruthless to the root.

Part of me wants to bring out the weed killer and spray the shit out of myself, because I’ve never been the kind of girl to feel this way, to do the insane things I’m about to do. The other part wants to revel in the wildness, to embrace it, to grow crazy and merciless and unchecked.

At around four p.m., Lachlan hasn’t arrived back from practice yet and I decide to make the call. I choose my mother because she always has to come first, even before my job.

The phone rings and rings and rings. It’s early at home but she’s always gotten up at the crack of dawn anyway. I sigh and hang up, feeling a strange sense of relief that I don’t have to break the news to her just yet.

I’m about to call Stephanie, just to feel like I’ve done something, when I hear Lachlan’s keys in the door. I also hear voices.

I crane my neck from the couch to see him come inside the hall with Brigs. Lionel and Emily jump off the couch from beside me, Lionel wagging his tail at Lachlan’s brother, Emily barking at him.

“Oy, shut up,” Lachlan says to her and it’s the first time I’ve heard him yell at a dog. It puts a sour taste in my mouth.

I cautiously get off the couch and come over to them.

Lachlan is different. The change in him is immediate. His head is lower, shoulders hunched up, a cagey tightness in his eyes. He’s out of his uniform and in jeans and a V-necked shirt, but I don’t think he’s showered from after practice. A patch of mud clings to his arm.

“Hi,” I say to Brigs, bringing my eyes over to him. “Nice to see you again. If I knew you were coming, I would have made myself look more presentable.”

“Oh, please,” Brigs says to me, displaying a charming smile and very white, straight teeth that no doubt was created by an orthodontist. “You look lovely.”

Lachlan stalks off into the dining room, heading for the kitchen. I watch him go then look back to Brigs expectantly.

“Did something happen?” I ask quickly, lowering my voice.

He purses his lips, eyes darting to the dining room. “I had time today, so I went by to watch his practice. I told him a few days ago I might stop by, so he knew. I always try and see a few games, kind of tradition, aye? Well, I only caught the last half of practice cuz I was ru

My mouth drops open. “Shit. Is Lachlan in trouble?”

Brigs frowns, his blue blue eyes becoming positively icy. “Hard to say. I don’t think so. Lachlan is a hard-hitter and sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength. The coach knows that. Fuck, he encourages it from him. But even if the team isn’t concerned, Lachlan is to blame if De

I’m not even sure how to process that. The last thing Lachlan needs is blame.

I’m fumbling for words, wanting to hear from Brigs that everything is going to be all right but Lachlan comes out of the kitchen, eyes on the ground, brushing past us to the door.

“Where you going?” Brigs asks him.

“For a walk,” Lachlan mumbles, shutting the door behind him.

“I should go after him,” I tell Brigs but he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Give him space,” he says, giving me an imploring look. “Believe me.”

“He just must feel so horrible.” I cross my arms across my chest, feeling cold all of a sudden. I don’t want Lachlan to go for a walk, alone, lost to his i

“I reckon he felt something horrible to start with,” Brigs says. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have hit so hard.” He gives me a steady look, placing his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I don’t profess to know about your relationship with Lachlan. I barely know my own relationship with him sometimes. You know, I was just leaving school when we brought him into the family. I’d grown up with a lot of foster brothers and sisters coming in and out of the house but for some reason Lachlan stuck, even though he was nearly impossible to get to know. My mum saw something in him and didn’t want to give up. I suppose he saw the same in us. But it was a rough ride. And I was so angry at him, at this young fuck who acted like we didn’t do anything for him. I just didn’t understand his demons.” He pauses, looking away, his expression pained. “I do know though. I know what it’s like to live in guilt, to believe you have no worth at all. I do.”