The Game Changer - Ch. 9 (Patreon)

Aaaand we're back.

I've been looking forward to writing a very specific line in this chapter since the beginning of The Game Changer...

Enjoy!

------------The Game Changer ------------

Chapter Nine

Monday

Abbie sipped her coffee, tapping subconsciously against the countertop as she couldn’t help but glance down at the email she’d received this morning. Again. For at least the hundredth time.

Incredibly happy to hear that your mom is doing well, Abbie.

I know it might seem like insensitive timing, but well, time really is of the essence right now. As you know, we’re heading into playoffs soon. I’ve been able to hold off on making the official call as much as I possibly can, but… we’re down to the wire.

Cutting to the chase: if you want to reconsider your decision and come back for the end of the season, it’s still on the table.

Elena

She’d seen the email when she’d woken up to go to the bathroom at four, and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, not with her stomach tied in so many knots.

She shook herself out of it as she heard her moms walking down the stairs, just after six. Right on cue.

Placing her own coffee down, she reached for the drinks she’d prepared for them and turned around with a flourish just as they walked in through the doorway.

“Good morning, parental unit,” she greeted, carefully walking toward the table with the steaming mugs, placing them down at their seats.

Both of her parents had come to a quick stop, their surprise and obvious concern etched into both of their faces.

“Are you okay?” Her mom asked, first. “When did you get up?”

“I think the better question is: when did you sleep?” Caroline immediately followed up with, gesturing around the kitchen.

Which, thank you very much, was spotless.

Other than all of the food she’d made, which was also – if Abbie said so herself – artfully arranged. Pancakes – and all necessary accoutrements – as well as freshly cut fruit were set out on the table, and she’d made a lovely variety for their lunches, which were all packed on the counters.

They’d all gotten their favorite sandwiches, homemade strawberry parfaits, some steamed vegetables. As far as Abbie was concerned, her moms could both do with some more fiber in their lives. She had a lot of knowledge on body composition as it pertained to exercise and sports science, but had done extensive knowledge in the last couple of months on what her moms should be doing to be living their healthiest lives.

Spoiler alert: they weren’t.

… okay, they weren’t unhealthy, but they both worked in offices, did a lot of desk work. It wasn’t good for their posture at any age, but especially now!

And now that her mom really did seem to be – tentatively – okay, she needed to make sure she was doing her part. She’d been gone for a long time, but she was back, now.

She scoffed, glancing down to make sure she’d locked her phone. No need to dive into all of that with her moms. Not again.

“Of course I slept. I just happened to wake up and go on a run, then come back and shower, and still had time to whip this all up.” She jokingly lifted her hand up and blew on her nails, before “buffing” them on her shirt.

She quickly grabbed her own coffee, before sitting at the table. “Now, come on. Feeding time.”

She didn’t miss the exchange of glances between her moms, but she chose to ignore it as they sat down.

And it only took another few seconds before her mom shook her hair back and arched her a look from across the table. “So, honey, now that we have some time alone with you…” She trailed off, pursing her lips as she studied Abbie.

Which made her want to squirm, even though she didn’t know why. Quickly, she wracked her mind, and… no, she hadn’t done anything deserving of a reproach?!

“Yeah…?” She returned, in the same tone, genuinely confused.

“Why didn’t you tell us about Rose Elliston being the headmaster, now? Seems like something you’d mention?” Caroline got straight to the point.

Ah. Those knots in Abbie’s stomach popped right back up, reminding her that they hadn’t really gone anywhere. Just laid dormant for a few minutes.

They hadn’t gotten into it all weekend after Rose and Cassie had left, which she’d been extremely grateful for. She’d figured this conversation was coming, given the whole reveal – which, really, didn’t have to be a thing.

But, as Rose and Cassie were leaving Saturday, her cousins had come over. The entire weekend had been a whirlwind of Parker family chaos, given that they were now in September and everyone was celebrating the end of the summer season at the pool.

She’d really hoped that amidst all of the other socializing that had happened post Rose and Cassie that the interaction would fade to the back of both of her moms’ minds.

Obviously, it had not.

Feeling that sensation in the pit of her stomach that she got when she lied to her moms – which she did not appreciate, because she hadn’t lied about anything! – she forced herself to shrug. “It didn’t seem super relevant, I guess.”

Before Friday night, she had purposefully avoided bringing up anything related to Rose to her parents. She’d been worried they’d be able to pick up on any of her negative, bitter feelings and try to dig into it.

Now, though, she didn’t have that same concern.

But it still felt a little bit like navigating a minefield.

Her attempted nonchalance didn’t fool either of her parents, that was obvious from the looks on their faces.

Her mom’s eyes were narrowed in thought. “Did you keep in touch with her? I can’t recall anything about her since high school.”

Caroline snapped her fingers with an obvious ah-ha before she could answer that. “No, it was the Duke/Viddell game, the championship, your senior year. That was the last time we saw her.”

Danger zone.

Abbie could hear the alarms in the back of her mind, focusing on stacking up the fruit on her plate. “Um. Well. Yeah, yeah, she played for Viddell, so that was probably – you know, that is correct. Yeah, that game was the last time we saw one another.”

… she hadn’t accomplished the casual tone she’d been aiming for, and she knew it as soon as she’d spoken.

“Riiight,” Caroline drawled. “You know, kiddo, I remember that. You two were, essentially, holding hands on the field?”

“Yes,” her mom corroborated. “That’s exactly right, baby.”

Oh, jesus christ.

Abbie took in a deep, determined breath, and rolled her shoulders back as she looked up to alternatively lock eyes with both of her parents. “Rose and I were not close in high school. We were not holding hands,” she sharply corrected, before wincing as she, too, was thrown back into the memory. “Ah… well… not like. Intentionally.”

Both of her moms were staring at her, intently. Her mom’s gaze was confused, Caroline’s suspicious.

“Did you date? I thought you’d told us about all of your partners?” Her mom’s quiet, slightly hurt tone dug into her.

And – ugh.

Abbie was an adult. She didn’t have to explain herself, her sex life, or her dating life to her parents, and she knew that. And if she drew a hard boundary, they’d respect it. … at least for now.

But… that also wasn’t the kind of family they were. And she didn’t have anything to be ashamed of.

“We didn’t date. If we did, you would have known,” she confirmed, then faltered. “We did – we did not date but, uh, spent a night together. That night. After the game.”

Her moms had always been very straightforward when it came to talking about sex with her, and yet, discussing the fact that she’d had a one night stand over breakfast with them had not been on her docket. She felt a blush creep up the back of her neck.

Quickly, she held up her hand to stop any incoming comments or questions. “No, we didn’t see one another after that night. Yes, I did feel a little… uncertain… about what our relationship would look like while we were working together. And that is why I didn’t mention it to you.”

It was just better to lay it all out. She knew this. Neither of her parents were idiots, and the reality was that Abbie had informed them of almost every other detail about working at Elliston. About the board, about her thoughts on the players on the team, about her meetings with the other coaches as the athletic director. They were going to wonder why she’d hidden Rose.

“I just want to give you the rundown, now, so neither of you start thinking that it was something bigger than it was.”

“Was the fact that it was a one-night thing… mutual?” Caroline asked, her voice quiet and far too knowing.

Abbie dared look her way and catch the astute expression on Caroline’s face.

Why was her mother a fucking lawyer? She read people like a book, and Abbie was no exception.

Either way, she maintained her composure. “Yes,” she ultimately answered. “Like I said – we didn’t keep in touch after high school; we weren’t friends. We didn’t have any expectations, after.”

Which was true. And now that she knew all of the details that had factored into that night from Rose’s perspective… well, she didn’t hold it against her.

Before either of her parents could try to dissect more, Abbie shook her head. “And that’s all of the sharing I’d like to do this morning. Everything is fine, now. As evidenced by Saturday, Rose and I are on good terms, now. She, actually, might become my assistant coach.”

For the first time all morning, a shock of excitement sparked through her. Rose had still yet to confirm, as she was “thinking things over.” But she had reached out to Abbie last night and asked for her current notes on the team this year, so she was reasonably confident she had Rose on the hook.

Before she could get too excited, though, for the second time this morning, she witnessed the wordless look her parents exchanged.

And she pointedly cleared her throat. “Can you pass me the syrup so we can enjoy this delicious breakfast I made?”

***

Abbie stared intently down at her notes as she stood on the field that afternoon, the sun blazing down overhead. It was uncomfortably hot, but also oddly comforting. It was a familiar feeling.

The first official game of the season was hurtling toward them – this coming Friday. They had only one school week worth of practices left, which just… didn’t feel like enough time. She’d essentially been playing catch-up for weeks, and they’d barely found their footing as a team. Let alone been able to really strategize.

“Do you like my track suit?” Norah called out, pulling her attention away from her clipboard.

She looked up to see her cousin trekking across the field, immediately barking out a laugh. “You mean my track suit?”

Because, yes, her cousin was wearing one of the matching short-and-lightweight zip-up designs that Abbie had modeled last year during her deal with Adidas.

Norah held her arms wide, gesturing at herself. “No, I mean mine. We pull this off way differently.”

Which, in fairness, was true. Norah stood several inches shorter than she did, her body a lot curvier and less muscled than Abbie’s.

“Well, either way, I’m thrilled that you’re finally investing in some athletic wear. Your suits on the soccer field were really starting to make me question if you were really committed to your position,” she teased.

The reality was, whether her cousin wore a business suit and heels or went full athleisurewear, Abbie’s gratitude was endless.

“Tell me this,” she started, as Norah reached her side. “And tell me the truth,” she arched her a serious look.

Norah scoffed back at her, affronted. “I am always a truth-teller, Abigail, and I am offended that you would imply otherwise. I am a defender of the law.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Admit that you’re way more comfortable than you are in your typical wardrobe.”

Norah crossed her arms over her chest. “I will not–”

She was cut off as Anya Beckett shouted from the field. “Hey, Headmaster Elliston!”

Both Abbie and Norah spun around to see that Rose was, indeed, walking determinedly toward them.

She had her arms crossed over her chest and her cheeks were slightly flushed with heat by the time she reached them.

Abbie’s blood thrummed through her as she folded her own arms, facing off against her. “Welcome to the field, Headmaster Elliston.”

Rose tilted her chin up at her. “Your offensive plan is wrong. Assuming what you sent me in your preliminary notes for the season is what you’re going to be using as practice ideas for the game on Friday.”

She narrowed her eyes, consideringly. “So… you’re my assistant coach, then?”

“I didn’t say that; I said that your offensive plans could use some work.” Rose worked her jaw for a few seconds, before admitting, “And, fine, I have a few notes for you. I just emailed them.”

“I don’t check my email when I’m out on the field,” she returned, before shrugging. “It doesn’t matter, anyway, because I will only seriously consider your advice on the matter if you’re on my coaching staff. Otherwise…”

Rose’s dark eyes glinted up at her, and Abbie felt it grab at something deep inside of her.

She could feel the energy between them in this standoff, and something about it felt so… familiar. The spark, the thrum, the way Rose was clearly grinding her teeth as she glared back at Abbie.

It felt like the past between them here on the field. But also very, very different.

Because, in the past, Abbie hadn’t enjoyed this feeling at all. And right now – well, this was different.

Rose huffed out a breath, arching a look at Norah, who was glancing between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match, an amused smile on her face.

“Oh, yes, I forgot; right now, you’re taking the advice from your current top-notch, highly knowledgeable coaching staff.”

Norah shot Rose a dirty look, some of her amusement fading. “Hey, unless you’re releasing me from this assistant coach prison–” She offered an apologetic wince at Abbie, “That I do out of love.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that worked out of her throat. No offense taken.

“You can keep your commentary about my coaching abilities to yourself,” Norah finished, firmly.

Both Abbie and Norah turned to look at Rose, expectantly. She could feel the energy coursing through her. Wondering. Oddly… hopeful.

Rose rolled her eyes, and took in a long, deep breath. Her chest rose with it, before she sharply huffed out. “Fine. I guess I’m your… co-coach.”

“Assistant coach,” she immediately corrected, even as the satisfaction and victory coursed through her.

“Co-coach,” Rose stated, firmly.

“You know,” Norah interjected, “While you two crazy kids get to debate about this hot-button topic, I am going to officially tender my resignation from my unpaid position.” She pinched at her shirt. “Can’t wait to take this off.”

Abbie pulled her cousin in for a quick hug. “I really appreciate you,” she whispered.

And… god, she really did. Norah, with more than a full plate of her own responsibilities to take care of, had shown up multiple days a week, out in the hot sun, doing something she didn’t particularly enjoy, because Abbie had simply asked.

Norah squeezed her back tightly. “I appreciate you right back.”

She took in a deep breath as they stepped out of the hug and turned to find most of the team already watching them curiously.

Okay… time to do this.

She waved them in closer. “Perfect timing, since warm-ups are over. We have some news: Norah is officially retiring from her tenure as the assistant coach.”

“My exit is imminent,” Norah had no problem stepping in and – of course – making a goodbye speech. “I wish you all the best, and I’ll be coming to see as many games as possible from the sidelines. Remember, ladies, keep those knees high. And most importantly, please remember that the most important thing to know about fashion is not the trend itself, but how to play the trend to your specific features.”

“Oh my god,” she heard Rose mutter.

Abbie was already chuckling, exasperatedly, even as she tucked her clipboard under her arm and clapped, which the girls immediately joined in on. “Thank you, Norah. I’m sure you’ve imparted so much wisdom in your time here.”

Norah grinned back at her. “I like to think I’ve left an indelible mark.” She looked back at the team, a little more seriously. “I do believe in you all, and I’m really glad I’ve been able to hang out with you for the last couple of weeks. Er… coach you.”

Her intentional word stumble had the girls laughing, and Abbie seized that as the perfect opportunity to strike, while moods seemed to be bright.

“Red Foxes, it’s an honor to let you know that the new assistant coach–” She shot Rose a quick, triumphant smile, “Is none other than Headmaster Elliston.”

She led another quick round of clapping, noting the curious stares from a lot of the team, even as they joined in. Before they started throwing out questions, which she knew they would if she didn’t give some more information, she jumped back in.

“I know it’s not ideal to have a lot of change so early on in the season–”

“Coach, we liked Norah a lot, but… some change is good,” Talisa Frank, one of her defensive players, cut in.

“I heard that!” Norah’s laughing shout echoed across the field, as she made her way back to the parking lot.

Abbie tamped down on her own smile. Something she’d been really trying to figure out here was the balance of being friendly but still The Coach. She’d spent the last two decades of her life on the field, but she’d always been one of them, one of the players.

It was a really interesting thing, trying to figure out how to act as the person on the other side, facing the team who were looking to her for guidance and answers.

Honestly, it was something she found herself a little excited about. Rose’s background was in education; she wanted to see how she handled herself, here.

Abbie cleared her throat. “Okay, yes, you aren’t wrong. And on that note, I think that this change is very good. I know that I’ve already shared with you all my own past here on the team, but – for anyone that might not know – Ro-um, Headmaster Elliston and I were actually on the team, together.”

There was a little buzz that worked through the girls, and it gripped Abbie as well.

It had been a little difficult, at times, to rouse the team into believing they could do this. Which really was a big part of the battle. And… Norah hadn’t, exactly, inspired confidence.

She leaned into it, giving herself over to that excitement, as she leaned in and jostled Rose’s shoulder with her own. “Yep, while I tended the goal, Headmaster Elliston was the best striker in our conference. With her input working with the offense, and the skills we’ve already been working on here – we really have something.” She leaned into Rose once more, turning to look at her expectantly. “Do you have anything you want to add before we start?”

Rose’s dark eyes darted toward her, holding her stare for a few seconds, before she turned back to the team.

The look she swept over the girls was assessing and sharp, like she was taking stock of them all in mere seconds.

There was something both strangely intimidating and appealing about it.

But when she spoke, her voice was softer than Abbie had imagined. Maybe because she’d imagined the way Rose would talk to her when giving Abbie that kind of assessing stare.

“I’m excited to get into the season with you all. I’ve looked over a lot of Coach…” She shot Abbie a quick, questioning look. “Parker’s?”

“Either is fine,” she waved it off.

Rose accepted it with a nod, and jumped right back in. “Notes, and – I mean, it’s not a secret; we all know that she knows what she’s doing.”

A pleased warmth shot through her, as she turned to look at Rose in surprise, her smile growing a little wider as some of the girls let out some affirming shouts.

Rose didn’t look back at her.

“But I firmly believe that everyone has areas of improvement. I did everything I could to help the Red Foxes win when I was a player, and I’d like to keep doing that now. Which leads me to say – now that Norah is gone, some real offensive strategy is going to begin.”

A little shiver shot through Abbie at the firm, commanding tone Rose used just then.

“Hey, I guess this means we might have a chance at going up against Wellesley this week,” Rachel Clayton, one of her juniors, and someone Abbie had generally come to enjoy, said from the back of the group.

Izzie Minton scoffed. “They’re still going to hand our asses to us.”

Aaaand in came Izzie, unsurprisingly. Before anything could devolve, as Abbie had already learned it quickly could – especially with Izzie was involved – she cleared her throat. “That’s the spirit I’m looking for, Rachel. Now, as you all know, hydration is key. Grab some water, and then we’re going to start some drills.”

As the girls went to do so, she slowly turned on her heels to face Rose. “So… you were very inspiring. Did you practice that speech?”

“You’re asking if I prepared a speech I didn’t intend to give today?” Rose dubiously asked, arching her an amused look.

Abbie held her stare right back. “You were always going to give that speech today.”

Rose’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursing. “I literally just told you that I was only coming down here to give you some notes. I was still thinking things over.”

She hummed, managing to bite back her smile.

Rose definitely noticed, her eyes narrowing. “What’s with that look?”

“Look? I’m not looking like anything,” she feigned innocence.

Rose rolled her eyes. “We’re co-coaches; you might as well just be honest.”

“You’re my assistant coach,” she corrected, before she shrugged. “And… come on, Rose. We both knew you were going to do this.”

“We did not,” Rose countered, immediately.

“Rose, you love this.” She gestured over her shoulder at the field. “Even back when you barely tolerated my presence and we hardly talked, I could see it on your face. You love this,” she repeated, a little quieter, staring beseechingly at Rose.

Who stared right back, her expression dropping any hint of defensiveness, as she dragged her eyes away from Abbie’s and glanced out over the pitch. “Fine,” she haltingly agreed. “I do.”

“From you, Rose Elliston, that is a huge win.”

***

By the end of practice, Abbie could already feel it.

The shift in the air, as the sun was just starting to set. The girls had real potential, she’d seen it from day one. But they’d been unfocused and unprepared with how to apply their potential, and she did feel she’d been making progress throughout their practices.

But today – it felt different, already.

She looked across the field, thrumming with the energy in the air as she locked eyes with Rose.

Whose face was flushed from the heat and – dare Abbie say – the exhilaration of getting back into this. Several long strands of dark hair had fallen from the simple but elegant twist she’d had it pulled up in, and… she looked good.

She looked really, really good.

Even in her literal suit that she was wearing – long, black dress pants, and her blouse’s sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

“Have you had enough water this afternoon?” She asked, as she strolled closer, closing the distance between them. “You must be incredibly hot in this.”

She gestured to Rose’s suit, only registering her comment after she’d spoken it aloud, her cheeks heating at the same time that Rose smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” Biting her lip, she hesitated. “Not that… well, you are–” Abruptly, she cut herself off, glancing around them.

Most of the girls had already set off for the locker room, but there were still a few stragglers outside.

“You know what I mean,” she murmured.

“I do,” Rose hummed back, a glint in her eyes. Still, she shook her head, the amusement fading as she nailed Abbie with a look. “But – as I said – I’d intended to come out here and give you some notes. I hadn’t realized I’d be coaching literally right now, today.”

And… okay. Abbie took that on the chin. And while she did feel like she was absolutely correct – Rose did love this, and she knew in her bones that being out here brought the same part of Rose to life that Abbie felt – she winced.

“I kind of bullied you into this, earlier. Put you on the spot,” she acknowledged, interlocking her fingers together. “But… are you in? Like because you want to be, not because I forced you.”

“The offense does need a lot of work,” Rose avoided answering directly.

Which made her stomach twist, some of the excited, buzzy feeling left over from practice fading. “Okay… Then it’s great we have you here, isn’t it?”

Read: are you in?

“I’m not sure Anya Beckett is the right choice for her position,” Rose continued, maddeningly, as if Abbie hadn’t been asking her a question. “She’s young.”

A little offended now, she rolled her eyes. “The youngest on varsity, but she’s the right choice. She has a lot of potential; you’ve only been here for one practice.”

“And–”

“Rose, I would love to debate this with you.” Oddly enough, she would. Even though she could already feel like they might want to shake the other into seeing their individual perspective’s – but maybe that was half of the excitement? Either way. “But like I said earlier: I’m only doing it if you’re in.”

With that, she offered her hand between them, rolling her shoulders back, feeling the anticipation work through her.

Rose gave her a long, considering look, before slowly sliding her hand into Abbie’s. And that tingling, buzzing feeling became even more demanding. “I am. Co-coach.”

“Assistant coach,” she corrected, squeezing Rose’s soft hand in hers in reproach.

Yep, already maddening.

Rose squeezed her hand back, a little tighter but far from painful. “And for the record, Abbie? You couldn’t possibly bully me.”

She arched a sharp eyebrow up at her, a smirk that should be infuriatingly frustrating pulling at her lips.

And Abbie… well, she didn’t feel infuriated by it.

“We’ll see about that.”

“Are you threatening to bully me?” Rose asked, incredulously.

Abbie felt her lips twitch into a smile at her own ridiculous statement. “I guess so.”

That laughter died at once as Rose squeezed her hand again, her dark eyes focused and intense, as she murmured, “I’d love to see you try.”

Oh. Well. Then.

With that, Rose released her hand and turned to walk away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Tuesday

She didn’t mean to.

She really didn’t mean to.

But she did find herself checking Rose out for at least the tenth time since she’d joined them on the field at the beginning of practice.

When they’d been in the thick of the practice, she’d been fine. They’d largely been focusing on their own things, and when they had gotten into conversation a little while ago, it had been a whispered debate about their opposing strategy plans. Abbie’s blood had been pumping because of the debate rather than Rose’s wardrobe.

At this moment, though, she didn’t feel like she was at fault.

Because Rose had bent at the waist to grab her water bottle from the ground, and her shorts were… indecent.

Closing her eyes, she shook herself out of it.

But. God.

She really was thankful that she’d been so focused on their bad blood when they’d been younger rather than how attractive Rose was, because she wasn’t sure that their team would have performed nearly as well.

“Do you need anything else?” Rose asked, dragging her out of her bordering on definitely inappropriate thoughts.

Abbie blinked back at her. “Um. What?”

“Are we done for the day?” Rose asked, a little slower, a little amused. “Or do you want to argue with me some more about my thoughts on my area of expertise in the game?”

Whew. Truthfully, she was thankful for that comment; it refocused her.

“No, but I do want you to keep in mind that Anya is going to be playing the first game in that position.”

“Izzie has more experience.”

“Anya has more raw talent,” she returned. “And she’s not a showboat.”

She’d been less than impressed with Izzie’s refusal to want anyone else to have any hint of glory or success, even in practice.

She could see the way Rose bit at the inside of her cheek, before she sighed. “I don’t disagree with you, for the record, that Izzie’s… self-centered.”

“Exactly. And I’m not going to reward her with the position she wants to play, even if it gives us a slightly better chance to win this game. Because, in the long run, it’s going to be way more detrimental to the team.”

Abbie was firm on that, and her opinion wasn’t changing. She’d observed enough over the last few weeks to have made up her mind. Izzie would still be playing, but it wasn’t exactly how she wanted.

“I was “rewarded” with the same position, even when I wasn’t the nicest person,” Rose quietly said, after several seconds of quiet.

Abbie could see the way her jaw was working, and the series set of her eyebrows, and she felt herself soften. Ah. Her opposition made a lot more sense, now.

Even so, though, Abbie found herself shaking her head, vehement disagreement filtering through her. “That’s not true. I mean – fine, obviously we both know you had your moments.”

They both knew, because all of Rose’s not finest moments had been directed at her.

“But in the game? You weren’t selfish. You were never playing for yourself, you were playing for the team. Trust me, I spent a lot of time watching you kill it from my post.”

There was that smile on Rose’s face, the one Abbie was still getting used to seeing. Something incredibly sweet and soft and sincere. “Well, I appreciate you saying that.”

She smiled back, and they held eye contact for a moment, before Rose cleared her throat and looked away.

 “I need to grab Cassie. I’ll see you tomorrow, with a new game plan for Friday.”

“Speaking of Cassie, where is she?” Abbie asked, before she frowned as the realization dawned on her. “I mean, I guess – do you have her on Mondays? I don’t know your arrangement.”

“Yes, I do. Saturday afternoon to Wednesday morning every week. And she’s in the afterschool program now, which is where I’m going to pick her up from.”

“Please tell me Miss Meg isn’t in charge of that.”

Rose scoffed, derisive and sharp and… admittedly, a sound that would have set Abbie on edge, in the past. Right now, she found it appealing, especially paired with the look in those dark eyes. “You think Miss Meg still has a job?”

She winced. “Fair point.” The idea struck her instantly, and she perked up at it even before she said, “Hey, on the days you have Cassie, I’d love for you to bring her to practice. If you want to, anyway.”

Rose hesitated, arching her a look. “Cassie may be my progeny, but I’m under no illusions that she is not a handful.”

Abbie shrugged. “I’m not trying to pressure you into it; your choice. But I won’t mind, and I don’t think the girls would, either.” In fact, the idea hit her, making her light up. “We could get her a coach’s shirt and everything.”

Rose breathed out a laugh. “She would absolutely love that. So… maybe next week.”

“Great. Then, I’ll let you go get her but – I, uh, I want to let you know that I’m really excited. About what this means for the team.”

Rose pursed her lips. “Izzie might need an attitude adjustment but she makes a good point; there’s a good chance we might not beat Wellsley, even if we’re starting to whip them into shape.”

She shrugged. “Eh, I’m not worried about it. It’s the first game of the season; we can handle that.”

Even if, admittedly, she did have a drive to win – she wasn’t going to put crazy pressure on the girls.

“We have a better chance now.” She hesitated, holding her breath for a beat, before adding honestly, “And… well, I’m excited for us.”

Rose paused mid-step, seeming taken aback. “For us?”

She felt herself blush. “Like, to get to know each other. For real. And to do it back where it all started is – well, I think it’s pretty cool.”

She really meant it. It was pretty cool to be able to get to know Rose, under all of the ire and the defenses that had been there when they were young.

Even as the excitement built inside of her, she couldn’t help but tack on, “If we don’t kill each other, that is, over any disagreements.”

Because if there was one thing she and Rose were both incredibly passionate about, it was this.

“A big if,” Rose dryly agreed. She paused, though, and a small smile worked over her lips, something that Abbie… well, she didn’t know if she’d ever seen it, before. Something almost shy. “I’m… excited by the prospect, as well.”

***

Wednesday

“Are you okay?” Abbie asked quietly as she sidled up to Rose.

The girls were running through a scrimmage, and she was keeping an eye on them.

But she was also keeping an eye on Rose.

Who had been weird since arriving to practice today. At first, she’d wondered if she was imagining it. If she was incorrectly interpreting Rose’s curt replies as defensive or prickly, because it was Abbie’s default thought about Rose in the past.

Like, maybe she was superimposing a defensive front over Rose, because – subconsciously – she still held onto that image of her?

But, after the last half hour, she was sure that wasn’t true.

Every time she made a comment about the girls, she received barely a look in response, and a short, to-the-point reply.

“I’m fine. Why?” Rose returned without looking back at her.

Bingo.

Exasperated, confused, and alarmed – because she’d thought they’d worked through this? She’d thought they were done with… this, whatever this was. Rose opened up to her! She’d come out to her! They’d made freaking peace.

Just yesterday, they had a moment with the smiling and the…

Ugh.

“That’s why?” Abbie pointed out, trying to tamp down on her outward frustration. She glanced out at the field, making sure there was no chance anyone was noticing their tension, before pushing, “If this was twelve years ago, I wouldn’t think anything was weird. But it’s not twelve years ago, and I thought… well, I felt like… after the last week – especially the last couple of days – that we – that things were going really well?”

“They are,” Rose’s voice was curt.

Abbie huffed out a breath, and – unfortunately – couldn’t actually get into anything right in this moment. Unfortunately.

Because what she wanted to do was get in Rose’s face and demand an explanation about this total 180.

But they weren’t the teenagers in this situation, anymore, they were the adults. That had over a dozen teenagers looking to them to be the adults.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pay attention. We have a game soon,” Rose’s voice was very pointed, as was the look she shot Abbie, before taking a few steps away, crossing her arms, and watching the girls play with a sharp eye.

Abbie stared after her for several seconds, holding in her baffled, agitated groan, as she, too, turned to look at the team.

“We have a game soon,” she muttered under her breath. “Like I don’t know that.”

***

Thursday

Unfortunately, Rose had walked off of the field at the same time as the last few players after practice yesterday – something Abbie had to imagine was planned.

She’d gotten it in her head today that she would go to Rose’s fucking office to demand an explanation to the weirdness. Only, she’d been stuck in meetings for the day, inundated with requests and questions from multiple other coaches, as all of the fall sports were really about to start.

And Rose, of course, hadn’t arrived to practice until two-thirty on the dot, just as they’d gotten to work.

Per the agreement she and Rose had made about today’s light, abbreviated practice – they didn’t want to tire everyone out before the game tomorrow – they’d both taken to running through specific drills with separate groups.

The first minute she had alone with Rose, as the girls finished up working their drills, she asked, “So… what was up yesterday?”

Rose made a note down on her clipboard. “What do you mean?”

Okay, so it hadn’t just been a weird, off day for Rose, then. It had continued.

But she couldn’t dive into it more. Not when the team was congregating around them.

Doing her best to shake herself out of it – she’d have to figure out what the hell was going on in Rose’s mind, later. And she would – she turned to look at the girls.

“All right, to get us all ready for tomorrow’s game, you know what we’re going to do…” Abbie played a little drumroll against her thighs, building momentum.

The excited buzz immediately worked through the team and helped get her out of her mind, temporarily, about Rose’s prickly mood.

“I really think I have a chance this time,” Izzie asserted. “I’ve been practicing.”

“We’ve all been practicing,” Anya muttered from where she stood at the front of the group, rolling her eyes. “That’s what we’re doing here every day.”

“So, what, exactly are we doing?” Rose asked, sweeping her gaze over the team, before – seemingly reluctantly – looking at her.

“Trying to get a goal past me,” she informed her.

When Abbie had run late to practice a couple of weeks ago, she’d given the girls a fun bonus game to play in return. Every player had three chances to try their best shot.

“And how has that worked out so far?” Rose asked, dubiously.

“Not well,” Rachel supplied.

“If someone ever actually gets a goal, they get to help Coach – er, both of you? – run a practice,” Anya informed her.

“And ask any question about playing professionally, including the gossipy stuff,” Izzie added.

“I see,” Rose hummed back, folding her arms over her chest. “Seems a little irresponsible to offer that as a reward.”

Abbie rolled her eyes back, ignoring that comment as she started toward the goal.

Maybe Rose wasn’t entirely incorrect in that… was it the most professional thing to offer? Could she imagine Coach Dru ever offering them hot gossip? No.

But Abbie was Coach Dru.

And… frankly, Abbie wasn’t very concerned about anyone scoring. So far, she’d only had to really exert herself to make a save twice. This was just for fun; the girls loved it even if they hadn’t come close to scoring against her, and it gave her a chance to directly see what they were working with. Plus, it gave Abbie a reason to hop in the goal.

Which, as she settled in and pulled on her gloves, gave her this feeling of total calm.

It was a win-win, as far as she was concerned.

After everyone had worked through their first and second turns, with no close contenders, Abbie was in the process of grabbing herself a sip of water, when Anya called out, “Coach Elliston, you were the striker when you won Nationals. You should give it a shot.”

“Yes! We watched some videos the other day,” Rachel added. “You were really good.”

Interest piqued, Abbie dropped her water bottle to the ground and turned to look over at the group, as they were all excitedly turning to face Rose. Her own excitement was mounting, too.

She enjoyed fielding the shots from the girls, but… the prospect of facing Rose was a lot more thrilling for her. Both because she had the hunch it would be more challenging, even if it had been years since Rose had played, and because –

Just the idea of it, the memory, of it coming down to her and Rose on the field…

Yeah, she wanted it.

Rose was hesitant, though, with a tight smile on her lips as she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. That’s not the point of this whole thing.”

When Rose darted a glance her way, those dark eyes measuring and so… different from how Abbie had started to get used to, she couldn’t help herself.

“Scared, Elliston?” She called out.

Rose’s shoulders tensed, and she turned to arch her a dark look. “Excuse you?”

Oh, there it was. That affronted tone, one Abbie was very familiar with when it came to Rose, even if it had been a long time since she’d heard it.

Abbie took a few steps forward, making an exaggerated point to shrug. Even though she knew all of the girls were watching them intently, she only looked at Rose. “I asked if you’re scared. And – hey, I get it.”

Rose scoffed. “If you recall, I’ve scored against you plenty of times.”

She held up her hands in defense. “I didn’t say otherwise.” Back in their own practice days, Rose had scored on her. “All I am saying, is that I’m coming off of a successful professional career. And you haven’t really played in, what, eight years?”

She goaded, and she knew it wasn’t the nicest thing to do. But Rose wasn’t really being the nicest, either, and like hell if Abbie wasn’t going to do anything about it.

She could hear the oooohs that the team let out, but it was all background noise to her now.

The only thing in focus was Rose. The sharp set of her jaw, the way she narrowed her eyes into a dark glare. And it sparked that thrill inside of her.

“The last time you played was… the championship in college?” She tapped at her chin, as if she needed to bring back the memory, but it was still very clear to her. “When I blocked your shot, and my team won the game? So, I get you not wanting to–”

Rose dropped her clipboard to the ground, fire in her eyes, as she ordered, “Get back in the goal, Lemon.”

Lemon.

There it was.

A heat – of excitement, of challenge, of frustration, of attraction – sparked inside of her, and she made a point of walking through the smattering of soccer balls that had been sent her way and stopped. She counted them, kicking ten of them Rose’s way in quick succession. “Five shots, Elliston. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Abbie could tell that it wasn’t only her blood that was pumping, but Rose’s, too.

She could see it in the set of Rose’s jaw, the look of concentration on her face that she recognized from years past. Rose easily took control of all of the balls Abbie had sailed her way, stopping them with measured movements.

The girls all lined up on the side of the field, letting out their cheers – some for Rose, but some for her, too – and Abbie tuned them out, getting into the zone.

It may have been almost a decade since Rose had played, Rose might not have been in the shape she’d been in as a D1 player, but she knew Rose Elliston.

Rose Elliston didn’t fuck around.

Her first shot was right to the upper-left corner, but Abbie was ready.

She smacked the ball out of the way, shaking her head as she sent Rose a grin. “Typical.”

Rose glared, wordlessly. Then – before Abbie even realized she’d already gotten ready – sent a ball straight to the bottom right corner.

Surprised, she had to jump for it.

She hadn’t had to throw her body into making a save in over a month, now, and even as she landed on the ground, shoving the ball away from the goal, she felt herself singing with it, coming alive.

Exhilarated, she stood up, rolling her shoulders.

The next block was easier. She caught the ball, and kicked it back.

The fourth shot, she managed to jump and tip up and over the goal with the tops of her fingers.

And on the fifth, Rose faked to the left, before kicking high into the right corner of the net. Abbie cursed herself for buying into the fake, jumping and extending as fast as she could… only to feel the ball whisper right over her hands, just a second too late.

The girls erupted in cheers, running onto the field, and Abbie dropped her hands to her hips, catching her breath.

Touche, Rose Elliston.

***

A half hour later, she was in her office in the locker room, reviewing the notes they’d made throughout the week for the game.

When she heart someone clear their throat from the doorway, she knew it was Rose – even just from that sound alone – but she was surprised to see her.

“Well, well, well,” Abbie sang out, leaning back against her desk. “If it isn’t the star of the hour.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You blocked four of my shots. I wouldn’t say that scoring one fifth of my attempts is true star power,” she dourly pointed out.

Exasperated, Abbie shot back, “I wasn’t just talking shit out on the field, you know. Yeah, okay, the tone I used wasn’t the nicest, but… you really haven’t played since college, and I literally just went to the Olympics, if you recall.”

“It rings a bell.”

“So, I’d say that a twenty percent success rate when you have all of the information is actually pretty fucking successful.”

Abbie didn’t know why, exactly, but Rose’s derision at herself made her stomach twist. Especially because, in this moment, she remembered that Rose had made similar comments after their game in college.

Maybe it was because she knew more, now. Maybe it was because she felt like they were possibly on their way to a good place in their relationship.

“Take the victory. You deserve it; you’re still a damn good player, even if you’re out of practice.”

Rose’s expression was shuddered and conflicted, even as she muttered, “Fine, I’ll take the victory.”

Shaking her head, she studied Rose closely, before deciding that now was the time. “Honestly, I’m shocked to see you here. You left the field pretty quickly, so I assumed that whatever weirdness is going on was going to continue into tomorrow.”

She could see the way Rose bit at her cheek, before she said, “I’m here because you owe me something.”

Shocked by that response, she spluttered back, “Excuse you?” Abbie reached up and drew her hand through her hair, having taken it out of the ponytail she kept it up in for practice, trying to wrap her mind around that. “What in the world are you presuming I owe you?”

“If the team gets a goal past you, they get a question about your professional career,” Rose informed her, giving her that look that said she obviously thought Abbie was being an idiot.

“Okay…?” She drawled back. “I didn’t think this was something you, of all people, would feel the need to collect on. But, sure. Hit me.”

Since when was Rose a salacious gossip? But, whatever.

“I’m owed an answer to my question, anyway,” Rose asserted, a tightness in her voice.

Even more confused, she leaned back against the edge of her desk. “Again, I say: okay…? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why did I receive official notice from Elena Hidalgo – you know, your coach – only yesterday that you were released from your responsibilities in the league? What the hell is up with that? Why did my office only get your NWSL termination paperwork today?” Rose’s hands fell to her full hips, and Abbie could see that her knuckles were white with the tightness in her grip.

She focused on that, as she wrapped her mind around what Rose was saying. “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird?”

“Yes. Because, as far as I knew, you were committed to being here. You – you’ve come back to Boston, to Elliston, and you made me feel like we were on good terms, like we might be – friends, or whatever,” Rose ground out. “You committed to the team – all of those girls who, for the record, have already taken to adoring you out on the field – and you joined the Board, which is really fucking important to me, and… and you weren’t even officially sure if you were leaving the league? What, you wanted to leave the door open to be able to run, after starting to ingratiate yourself here?”

Offended, feeling that energy rush through her, she pushed herself up to stand, looking down at Rose from inches away. “Is that the kind of person you think I am? Really, Rose? You think I’d get a job here as both the athletic director and the coach, and join the Board, and then leave everyone high and dry?”

“You were the one to point out last weekend that we don’t really know each other,” Rose shot back, dark eyes glittering up at Abbie as she held her ground.

“I think you do know me well enough to know that.” At least, Abbie hoped so. Because she’d always been that kind of person. “So, this is why you’ve gone back to being Old Rose?”

“I have not,” she disagreed, reeling back.

“You actually have.” And because she was her, she had to admit, “Fine, you haven’t been, like, insulting or outright rude, but you definitely didn’t seem like the same person you’ve been since I’ve come back.”

She could see how tightly Rose clenched her jaw, and was surprised when she admitted, “I guess you’re right on that front.”

Really surprised, because she couldn’t imagine Old Rose backing down on anything. She blinked back, some of the wind taken from her sails.

“If you’d just brought this up to me yesterday instead of stewing on it, we could have had this conversation already and had it over with,” Abbie pointed out, warily.

Rose let out a deep sigh, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. Several seconds of quiet beat by, before she murmured, “You’re… right. I–” She cleared her throat, tightly, “I’m still getting used to having direct conversations like this, rather than needing to swallow things down, but you’re right.”

Well, jeez. Okay, then. Abbie’s tension leaked out, relief tentatively filling in the cracks. “I understand that.”

After all – she now knew that Rose’s life had been full of repression and biting back her own feelings. Hell, she’d gotten married to a man, knowing she was a lesbian. She’d even tried to push that down.

“If we’re doing this, though – working together like this – I need you to just… talk to me. I’m just me, Rose; I’ve always been known to be prrrretty easy to talk to.” She ticked her lips up into a small, teasing smile.

But, it was the truth. Abbie had always received positive feedback on the communication front; she took pride in that.

Rose’s hands both dropped to her sides as she stared up at Abbie. The incredulity etched into her expression confused her, though, as Rose echoed softly, “It’s just you.” She then scoffed, shaking her head slightly. “Just you. God.”

… okay.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “So… you officially got the termination?”

Rose was still processing… whatever she was processing, and it clearly took a moment for her to recalibrate. “Ah, yes. I did.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, thoughtfully. “But, you’ve never had any intention of leaving that door open?”

“No,” she answered, feeling the echo of that simple confirmation settle inside of her. No, she wasn’t going back.

No, the door wasn’t open anymore. Officially.

God, that was heavier than she expected, and she deflated, leaning back against the edge of her desk again.

Pushing through it, she explained, “I did resign. But Coach Hidalgo wouldn’t accept it. She gave me a month of leave before she’d accept my contract buyout.”

She’d answered her email days ago with the affirmative – that she was still not going back.

Rose stared at her intently. “And… you’re sure you aren’t going back, then? Your mom seems to be doing okay.” There was a deliberate lightness to her tone, now. If Abbie wasn’t feeling the weight of what they were talking about so heavily she might have laughed at how transparent Rose’s attempt at nonchalance was. “If they’ve been begging you to stay, I’m sure you could go back even now. If you wanted to.”

She opened her mouth to give the stock answer she’d been giving out since she’d left the team. That she didn’t have doubts, that she was sure of this, etc.

But, as she locked her eyes onto Rose’s sharp, knowing stare, she hesitated. And then admitted, “A part of me wants to. Deep down. I doubt that part of me is ever going to fade completely.” The sheer sensation of being on the field during a game swept through her with the slightest provocation. The thrill, the focus, the camaraderie. A small smile played on her lips at the thought, the adoration for the game steadily pumping through her.

She eyed Rose right back, and she just knew – “You know what I’m talking about. You know this feeling; you have to.”

She’d seen it just earlier this afternoon, when Rose had walked onto the field.

Satisfaction worked through her when she eventually nodded and turned to settle against the edge of the desk, next to Abbie. “Fine, yes. I do.”

Abbie didn’t quite get why even that had to sound like some sort of confession from Rose – even now, when she felt like they were on much more even footing and had so much more understanding, Rose could be so… reticent.

Either way, she breathed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Thank you.” She worried at her bottom lip, trying to separate and verbalize her feelings in real time. “So, yes. I have that desire to play, to really be in the thick of it. Of course I do. But…” She nailed Rose with a warning look. “I know that this is going to sound cliché, all right? I know it. But, life is short.”

Rose snorted. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“I told you that I know it’s cliché!” She defended, nudging Rose with her shoulder, before settling in there. Feeling, oddly, a bit of comfort from the closeness.

Rose didn’t move away, either, keeping them side-by-side, their arms brushing. “Wouldn’t the adage usually be applied to, you know, going back to play professionally? Life is too short to waste your healthy, prime-time playing years?”

For a second, Abbie sat with that, before she shrugged. “Yeah, probably. But when I think about it, I think – I think about how I spent all of my twenties being really, really lucky. Doing the career that I loved. And believing that everything else I want – a serious relationship, marriage, kids, the whole thing – will be there, later.”

“It will be,” Rose immediately answered. She didn’t step away from Abbie, but turned her head to look at her, just as Abbie turned hers. Their eyes were only inches away from one another, Rose’s dark ones staring at her, ludicrously. “You’re only thirty. If you want to play, still, you could. You can do everything you want.”

Something warm and sweet fluttered through her at Rose’s insistence. Which wasn’t soft and assuring, but sharp and decisive, and perfectly Rose. It made her grin, even as she shook her head. “I appreciate you saying that, but… have you ever seen those cheesy, made-for-TV romance movies? Where something happens and just like that, the lead character has something snap into perspective?”

She already knew the answer as soon as the words left her mouth, as Rose frowned in disdain. “No. I have not.”

“You’ve never watched something like that? There’s, like, a million made every year.”

“And I strike you as the sort of person that enjoys them?”

“No. But Caroline doesn’t enjoy them, either, and my mom and I have still made her watch a ton of them.”

“I’ll count my lucky stars that you and I aren’t that close, then,” the sarcasm dripped from her tone.

Abbie arched her a serious look. “Yet, anyway.” She nudged Rose’s shoulder with her own, hesitantly. Hoping they were back on a good path. “We’re both here, you’re my assistant coach… it could be a long school year.”

Rose mock-shuddered. “Get back to the point you were making.”

“Right. Well, when my mom told me she was sick, I had that moment. And now that I’ve experienced that moment, I can’t go back to my old life, now. Which maybe sounds crazy, because it was the life I was living less than three months ago,” she acknowledged. “Three months ago, I would have never thought I’d be standing right here. Living with my moms, back at Elliston.” She hesitated, locking eyes with Rose again before softly adding, “Next to you.”

Ha, yeah. Never in a million years would twenty-nine-year-old Abbie, aka the Abbie of ten weeks ago, have fathomed this.

“But it really put things into perspective for me. Made me think about my priorities. What’s really important.”

“There is absolutely no part of me that believes you didn’t have your priorities right.”

Even with the acerbic tone, the meaning weighing in Rose’s words hit home in Abbie’s heart.

“You’re correct as in, I’ve always valued my parents. I don’t think I took them for granted. But I did take for granted this idea that I’ll have all of the time in the world. It’s not just about me having the time to have my own family,” she explained, feeling that heavy, thick feeling in her throat. Swallowing against it. “It’s about having time for my family to know and love my mom. Both of my parents.”

She found herself having to blink several times as the backs of her eyes burned, unexpectedly.

“My mom’s mom died from breast cancer when she was even younger than my mom,” her voice fell to a whisper of its own accord. “I remember her, but… only little bits and pieces. Like, the way she smiled. The way my mom smiled when she was with her, like she felt safe.”

Abbie hadn’t known how to explain that look when she’d been little. But she’d always noticed the way her mom looked and acted when they were with her grandma. Now, with age, she looked back and knew – her mom felt safe and unburdened and taken care of when they were with her grandmother. It was different than how she’d ever looked around Michael, which Abbie definitely understood.

But it had even been different than how her mom had looked with her back then. With Abbie, she’d looked happy. Abbie knew that. But not unburdened. With age and the ability to reflect, Abbie knew how much weight her mom had carried on her shoulders when it came to taking care of her. Especially in the time between leaving Michael, before she was with Caroline.

Forcing herself to clear her throat, she pushed out a deep breath. Whew. “Sorry. I… yeah, sorry. Anyway. I want to have a partner, I want kids; I want a family. And I want them to know my mom. Not just the bits and pieces I remember from my grandmother. And if – when the time does come that something happens to either of my parents, I want them to know that I’m good. That they did it all right, and that I’m settled, and happy, and…”

She trailed off, needing to take a long, deep breath, but found herself unsure of what else to add. So, she didn’t, and she hoped she’d explained herself enough.

Rose’s eyes were intently focused on hers, a little crinkle between her eyebrows. And she didn’t say anything.

Which made Abbie’s stomach tie into uncomfortable knots. She hadn’t really verbalized that to anyone, and hadn’t intended for Rose to be the one. Especially because they definitely didn’t have a great track record of Rose being a sweet and reassuring listener.

As the seconds of silence ticked by, Abbie’s stomach tied into knots, and she pushed herself up to stand, again. Away from that contact with Rose that clearly lulled her into saying too much.

“So, that’s what I mean by priorities and having enough time. I don’t want another ten years to go by, not having the time and energy to give to the things that matter the most to me.”

Rose nodded, her lips pursed as she also pushed herself up and away from the desk. “It’s good to know that I can officially count you in as my faculty member, then. No worries of you leaving to go back to Denver.”

There was something quietly understanding in Rose’s tone. Something that told Abbie her comments had resonated with her.

“And leave the new and hopefully improved Red Foxes with only their assistant coach?” She stressed the words, feeling the heaviness fade, even just from being able to have gotten that off of her chest. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

She didn’t miss the way Rose smiled at that, even as she’d turned to walk toward the door. Before she left, though, she turned back around.

“Regardless of whatever decision you made in terms of your career, I think your moms know they did everything right when it comes to you, Lemon.”

Abbie lifted her eyebrows at the nickname.

Yes, she’d registered it earlier, during practice. But… that felt different than this. That had been while they were competing, while they were on the field. It landed in a very specific part of her.

This – this wasn’t that.

This was more personal, one-to-one, and – more than anything – it was soft. Something reassuring and sweet, and somehow, something she’d needed to hear.

“Thanks,” she murmured, smiling back.

Rose shrugged, her cheeks blushing slightly. “Well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” she called back as she walked away.

For a few seconds, she just sat in the stillness of her office. How was it that while living through the biggest changes she’d ever experienced in her adult life, that Rose Elliston seemed to be most positive change of all?

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