Authors: Camy Tang
Tags: #Literary studies: general, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Christian - Romance, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Fiction, #Romance, #Christian Fiction, #Christian, #Romance Literature, #Fiction - General, #Christian - General, #Christian Life, #Italic & Rhaeto-Romanic languages, #Personal Christian testimony & popular inspirational works, #ebook, #Christianity, #Fiction - Religious, #General, #Dating (Social Customs), #General & Literary Fiction, #Religious, #book, #Love Stories
“Will you let me read my email?!”
Grey disappeared like smoke. Great, now she probably had a reputation for being snappy and emotional.
She returned to the email bulletin. This would be almost perfect. If SPZ picked her girls’ team to sponsor, they’d start funding in September.
After playoffs.
But supposedly Grandma would sponsor them until Mariko’s wedding in May. If Lex could fool Grandma into funding them through playoffs, she wouldn’t need to keep a boyfriend after August. SPZ would take over funding.
Could things get any better? She rocked at her new job. She had a new possibility for sponsorship. And she now worked for a 90-percent male workplace — there had to be at least one guy here who was Christian, who didn’t want her job, and who fit the items on her Ephesians List (which wasn’t really that long).
The sponsorship program just firmed her resolve. Lex needed to find a guy to date until August. She needed someone who would wow Grandma enough to keep her as sponsor through the summer. She needed to take advantage of the large population of testosterone-charged sports nuts and meet more of them (one of whom she’d just scared away — brilliant).
Oh, and she needed to fill out the application for this sponsorship. She searched her desk.
Judy had taken all the pens.
A
iden ached all over, but somehow he also felt really good.
He peppered the ball back and forth with Jill. His movements felt strong, his form good. He bumped, set, and hit with more confidence tonight. He felt more anticipation to play than in previous weeks, because of the Stanford Volleyball Camp he’d been taking on Saturdays.
“Where’s Lex?” This was late, even for her.
Jill caught the ball instead of bumping it. “She called and said she’s working late. She’s not coming tonight.”
His arms didn’t feel as strong as a second ago. He jogged in place a little, but the energy didn’t come back.
She’s only one person. Stop caring so much about —
He didn’t. He didn’t care at all. He barely knew her. She was just a cute girl, on and off the court. That was it. He was noticing a cute girl.
Wonder if she’ ll come by later tonight?
He did great on the hitting line. More accurate hits, better contact between his hand and the ball, better control over his upward momentum. No one else noticed.
Lex would have.
Yeah, but Lex noticed every flubbed hit too.
Stop thinking about her. Don’t even think her name.
The game started. Aiden shanked the first pass, but he remained impassive — he didn’t cuss or react like most players. Rather, he felt his face had been chipped out of marble, made up of stiff and hard edges.
He could do this.
“Oh, look, there’s Lex.” Carol pointed at a figure still in work clothes and heels clicking across the back of the court.
“Hey guys!” She waved and sat down on the bleachers.
“You aren’t playing?” Jill ignored the ref’s glare and turned to her.
“No.” Her mouth screwed up in a disappointed grimace. “I forgot my clothes and shoes at home, and it’ll take too long for me to go all the way there and come back.”
“Come on, guys!” The impatient ref blew her whistle.
Yeah, come on
,
guys.
Aiden moved away from Carol and got back into position. Since when had he become so competitive? Lex must be rubbing off on him.
Then he saw them — two Caucasian guys, strangers to the league.
They stood by themselves, not watching the play.
Watching Lex.
The whistle blew. Aiden tried to focus back on the game, but he almost missed the shanked pass sailing his direction.
“Aiden, get it!” his teammates yelled.
He set the hitter too tight to the net, and the other team’s blocker pounded the ball back over.
One of the two Caucasian guys gestured at Lex. The other answered.
Lex had noticed them. She had that angry but wary look darkening her face, as if she were torn between going over and throwing a punch, or calling the psych ward to come with straitjackets.
Strange, the two men didn’t look like stalkers. They had the build of athletes. If not for their business casual dress, they’d have fit right into the crowd of volleyball players.
“Aiden, that’s you!” his team yelled again.
Get your head back in the game!
He thrust his arms out to pass the serve, but it sailed too close to the net and Jill had to leap and try to punch it up. It caught in the net and dropped.
The two guys walked toward the exit doors. Aiden hadn’t realized the tension across his shoulders until the muscles loosened.
The whistle blew. Ball served. The back row sent a sweet pass. Jill set it curving toward him. Aiden leaped . . .
He knew the guy on the other team who would be blocking. Tall, with long arms. He couldn’t hope to slam the ball through him.
Aiden swung, but then cocked his wrist and rolled the ball over the blocker’s fingers. The spinning momentum sent the ball dropping fast into the center of the court. The two girls on wing dove from both directions to try and get it.
Point, side-out.
“Good shot.” The blocker slapped hands with him under the net.
“Thanks.”
They served. The other team set the same player. Aiden couldn’t hope to stuff him, but he posted his block the way they’d taught him at camp.
Just protect your section of the court.
Bam!
The ball glanced off his hands in a high arc, easy to pass. Jill set to him again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other team’s second front-row player sprint in a little late to the double block. Aiden cut the ball at a sharp angle and hit the sideline.
The down-ref stood by the pole. “Nice cut.”
“Thanks.”
He heard Lex hooting. He turned, and she clapped and beamed at him.
Beamed
at him.
His legs twitched with energy. He could jump higher than the rafters. He was in the zone, his groove was on, and he was on fire.
On the next serve, the other team shanked the ball and they had to bump it back over. Carol set him, high and arcing.
Aiden saw a window — the blocker had left the line shot open.
He cranked.
Blammo!
On the other team, a girl dropped to the ground.
His heart stopped. Dread spiraled across his chest. He gagged and sucked in a heaving breath.
What have I done?
He ducked under the net and raced to her side. “I’m so sorry.”
She stared dazedly at the ceiling, but she didn’t seem too injured.
Well, except for the “Tachikara” emblazoned across her nose and over her left eye.
“How can I not worry about it?” Aiden banged the back of his head against the folded up bleachers.
Lex adjusted her seat and stretched her legs. She hated wearing heels to work — even the short ones made her calves and hamstrings tighten. “Everyone who plays understands these things.”
“I should have left the game.” His gesturing arm glanced off her.
She shifted sideways on the wooden bleacher seat.
“No, if you left, that would be the coward’s way out. You finished out the game. You shouldn’t have let it hurt your play like it did.”
“That girl I hit left the game — ”
“Camy? She’s a ball magnet. She gets brained just walking across the back of the courts during warm-ups.”
“I hit it right at her — ”
“You hit it exactly where you should have, the only place you could — on line, which the blocker gave you. She should have been back further to dig it.”
Aiden stared morosely at the second game being played. “I should sit out the other two games too.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Her abrasive tone seemed to amuse him. Well, anything to snap him out of this funk. Lex clapped when their hitter gave a great deep corner shot that had the other team’s middle back diving at the ball.
“You know, you’ve been playing better lately.”
His expressionless face warmed a bit. She could almost swear a glimmer of a smile appeared. “You think?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been taking the Stanford Volleyball Camp the past few weeks.”
“Oh, hey! That’s a great clinic. It’s showing — ”
“Hey, Lex.”
Kin-Mun had appeared in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed. “Hi.”
He gave that familiar smile, the one that turned her stomach into a toasty mug of chocolate. “I heard you got a new job.”
She nodded. “Alumni Association Liaison at SPZ.”
“Awesome. Do you like it?”
“It’s terrific. I get paid to research about schools’ sports teams and then talk shop with their alumni association reps.”
Kin-Mun laughed. “You must be in heaven. One of my cousins used to be an alumni association rep. They made a lot of money off of sports.”
His words had a weird catch, an odd hesitation. She shrugged it off. “Yeah, they like using SPZ’s web presence to promote their school sports.”
“Ever talk to UW?”
“Yeah, I have to call them next week. Why?”
“Oh, no reason.” Kin-Mun glanced at the game being played. “I’ll be in Seattle next weekend. I’d love to catch the football game but don’t know if I’ll be able to get tickets.”
Lex wondered if she could. Other AAs had offered her free tickets when she talked to them, but not all. And next week would be the first time she spoke to the University of Washington Alumni Association.
“Ah, well.” Kin-Mun smiled down at her, and her cup of chocolate reheated. “I’m glad your job is going so well. Going out to eat with everyone tonight?”
“Yeah. We’re going to Chili’s.”
“Great. Save me a seat.”
“Sure.”
Kin-Mun sauntered away.
“He’s a good friend?”
Lex had completely forgotten about Aiden sitting beside her. “Yeah, he and I go way back.”
Except Kin-Mun had seemed almost interested in her tonight. Weird. No, exciting. Well, weird and exciting.
Lex needed to get those tickets.
S
orry, Lex, but tickets have been sold out for a few weeks.”
Her heart dipped, but only for a moment. “Roger, I know most alumni associations have their own block of seats. You couldn’t spare me a couple?”
“Well, now.” Roger’s voice had started to drawl. “I might be able to.”
She knew it. “I could offer some discounted advertising rates.”
“Naw, we don’t really need more advertising.”
Shucks. “Not even a premium story on our home page? What would you like to highlight about UW?”
“Our baseball team is doing really well, but it seems we can’t fill up seats.”
“A home page story would do that for you.” She reeled him in.
“A few scouts at the next game might be nice too.”
Aha! That’s what he was fishing for. “SPZ has connections to many scouts.” She had ten of them to call back today about new high school team stats that had just gone up on the website.
“Well, Lex, let me talk to a few people and get back to you on those seats.”
“I’d appreciate it, Roger.” She hung up. She now understood the rush when magnates closed a deal, or when stockbrokers scored on Wall Street.
Lex reached for her water bottle. Empty.
She glanced at the silent phone. She had time to refill it before Roger called back. She hooked the loop in the Nalgene bottle’s cap and headed down the walkway toward the water cooler.
She sidestepped Grey’s long legs sticking out into the hallway as he sat in his cube, having some serious phone conversation involving San Jose State baseball. Jordan’s voice drifted from his cubicle —probably also on the phone — but too late, she saw his foot shoot out into the walkway in front of her.
Her arms flailed as she tripped.
Thwack!
Her water bottle connected with something solid.
“Ooomph!”
She thrust out her hands, but the flimsy wall toppled instead into Dan’s cubicle.
Konk!
Sounded like the partition collided with Dan’s head.
“Ow!”
Lex and the partition went down. She flipped over as Dan’s body slowed the wall’s crash. Her hand, which had still hooked the loop in her water bottle, swung wildly and suddenly let go.
Two things happened at once.
The cubicle partition slammed Dan into the ground. Her water bottle, free and flying out sideways, crashed into the top-heavy water cooler.
Down went the partitions.
Down went the cooler.
Water soaked through the thin office carpet and rushed at her like an ocean wave. It saturated her pants.
“Lex! Are you all right?” Grey appeared. He grabbed one arm, and Jordan, the other. They carefully hoisted her up. While grateful for their help, she disentangled herself from their hands as soon as she could balance.
Dan ran to upend the water cooler bottle and stop the office flood. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure you’re good?” Grey asked. “Nothing broken?”
Dan had a huge red spot on his temple, but he focused all his attention on her. “Yeah, are you sure?”
“For the last time, I’m fine. Dan, are you okay? Jordan?”
Jordan froze in the act of rubbing the swollen part of his jaw.
Oops, that must have been what her water bottle had first collided with. He flashed a Prince Charming smile. “I’m great.”
Okay, she’d walked into the Twilight Zone. “What is wrong with you people?”
Dan blinked. “What do you mean?”
“When did you all suddenly become nice?”
Grey lifted a hand over his chest. “Lex, we’re hurt. We respect you deeply as a coworker.”
“Since when?”
“We’ve heard you on the phone.” He passed her water bottle to her. “The AAs like talking to you. You’re doing a great job.”
His eyes seemed sincere. Lex warmed to his praise.
Grey pointed to some papers on his desk. “Their advertising orders are up by ten to twenty this week alone.”
She hadn’t thought they’d noticed. She shouldn’t have assumed they were all still having hissy fits about her getting the AAL position.
“Dan, get her a few more towels. Here, I’ll go to the next office and fill your bottle from their cooler.” Grey took her bottle from her.
“Thanks.”
“Jordan, you help her back to her office.”
“No, I’m fine.” She started back down the walkway.
“Here are some towels.” Dan looked so earnest, Lex feared he’d mop up the water from her derriere if she didn’t stop him, so she took the towels from his hand. “I’m good, thanks.”
“If you need anything, just ask.” Dan smiled.
“Thanks.” She turned into her office and closed the door.
Ugh, her butt was soaked. She sopped up her pants and dropped the towels onto her chair before sinking down.
They were actually pretty nice guys. She’d misjudged them. And really, they weren’t bad-looking. Plus, they knew as much about sports as she did. When she asked any of them about the Chico stats or the latest Pistons scouting report, they were quick to get her the info and even chat intelligently about it.
Maybe she’d find a boyfriend right here. Even outside of her group, there were tons of men who lived and breathed sports. She wouldn’t need to get into Wassamattayu to find a date she could talk to.
Not that she still wouldn’t be willing to give up her firstborn child to get into Wassamattayu.
The phone trilled. She almost snatched it up mid-ring, then slapped her hand.
Don’t be too eager.
She let it ring one more time.
“Lex Sakai, SPZ Alumni Association Liaison.”
“Lex, it’s Roger. We’re all go for the tickets.”
“Great! Thanks, Roger. I’ll talk to my scouts. I can get several to a few games in the coming weeks.” Yeah, she knew a few whose arms she could twist.
“That’d be fine. Thanks.” He clicked off.
Lex called a few scouts and left messages for them to call her back.
She had other things to do while she waited, but her mind kept going back to her favorite topic of the month, the Wassamattayu tryouts. She tossed a tennis ball in the air. “Am I high enough on the waiting list?”
The tennis ball dropped to earth.
“Who can I call to find out?”
The tennis ball remained silent.
“Who would know someone who works at Wassamattayu?”
“Wassamattayu?” Grey poked his head into the doorway and held out her Nalgene bottle. “Here’s your water.”
“Thanks. Yeah, they have an opening for women’s volleyball.”
“Oh. My cousin got asked to try out for men’s soccer.”
What luck! “Did he get in?”
“Naw.”
“Oh.” Rats.
“When did they open tryouts?”
Lex shrugged. “I heard about it a week ago.”
“They’re probably scouting the waiting list now.”
“They scout the waiting list?”
“That’s what my cousin said. They don’t invite anyone they haven’t seen play.”
Lex’s throat tightened. Her heart did a rapid thump-thump. The two Caucasian guys. At the tournament, at the Nikkei gym. Good thing she never went over to punch their lights out. The thought made her clutch the edge of her desk in horror.
“Thanks for the info.”
“Not a problem. Had a good weekend?”
“Yeah, watched lots of ESPN.” She’d done some weight lifting in front of the TV. If she didn’t get asked for tryouts, it would be for nothing. “How about you?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. Decorated the couch. But next weekend I’m visiting my cousin up in Berkeley.”
“You’re close?”
“He’s like my other brother.” Grey’s gaze wandered to her tiny window. “You haven’t, by any chance, talked with the AA for Cal recently?”
Lex knew she usually didn’t pick up on social cues, but the disinterested mask on his face, the twitchy way he drew patterns on the surface of her desk, made her narrow her gaze. “I talked with them last week.”
His eyes gleamed like gold fire. “Think you could score me some tickets to the basketball game this weekend?”
Lex felt . . . plastic. Not real. Like a thing. Grey didn’t move, but suddenly a gulf cracked open between them that made him seem not real either. And she realized she didn’t like being used. Imagine that.
“You can leave now.” She leaned back in her chair and stared him down.
“What’s wrong — ”
“You have three seconds before I throw this water bottle at your head, you slime.”
He scurried out.
The phone rang, her outside line. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone. Maybe she could let it go to the main operator. No . . . talking sports with someone might cheer her up. “SPZ Alumni — ”
“Lex, it’s Jennifer.”
Lex straightened in her chair. “What’s up?”
“I’m in your area — I had to drop Mom off at a friend’s house for Mahjong. Have time for an early lunch?”
What timing. “I’ll meet you at Union.”
“I’ll have the House Special Hong-Kong-style noodles.”
“I’ll have the same.”
The waitress bustled off, hollering in Cantonese through the doorway to the kitchen.
Jenn sipped her jasmine tea. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah, why?” Lex blew to cool her tea.
“Well . . .” Jenn twirled a lock of her long hair. “You don’t usually volunteer to go to Union for lunch.”
“What do you mean? I love Chinese food.” Lex rubbed at the clear glass covering the tabletop.
“Not when you’re training.”
“How’d you know I was training?”
Jenn’s eyes popped up, alarmed. “Was I not supposed to know?
I’m sorry. Richard told me — ”
“Relax, Jenn, it’s not a secret or anything.”
“Oh.” Jenn’s shoulders sank back to their normal hunched position.
Lex didn’t feel like nagging her again about her posture. She started playing with the spoon that went with the little condiment canister of spicy peppers in oil.
“So . . . is work going okay?” Jenn bit her lip. “Nothing . . . bad?”
Poor Jenn. She had an excess of tact while Lex had none. “Why?
Do I look extra stressed?”
“No . . . just that . . . when you’re training extra hard, you eat better than Denise Austin.”
Lex laughed, and her mood lightened. “So Denise Austin wouldn’t eat Hong-Kong-style noodles?”
Jenn’s sweet smile peeked out. “Are you really trying to tell me they aren’t unhealthy?”
“It’s just salty and saucy over deep-fried chow mein noodles.” Just saying it made her feel like fat was congealing in her veins and depositing on her hips.
Who cared — she was out and didn’t have to deal with Grey or any of those dorks. “The day was a little bad, but it got better when you called. We haven’t been out to lunch in a while.”
Lex unloaded. She kept talking even while they chowed down on their salty, saucy, and deep-fried lunch.
“I mean, Jenn, I knocked the partition on his head. Not even a grimace from him.”
“And that poor guy you nailed in the chin.” Jenn bit into a piece of broccoli.
“Exactly. They were all, ‘Are you all right?’ Not even yowls of pain.” Lex chomped on a crispy noodle. “It was all for the tickets.”
Jenn didn’t answer.
Lex glanced at her.
Jenn screwed up her face. “Well . . .”
Lex sighed. “That’s encouraging.”
Jenn shrugged and kept eating.
“I thought I’d look for a boyfriend at work. You know, for Grandma’s ultimatum. I only have three more months. But now I can’t tell the cools from the creeps.”
“Yeah, that’s tough.”
“I just don’t like being forced to date someone. What is it with Grandma and great-grandchildren?”
Jenn paused with a piece of char siu pork in her chopsticks. Her extra-large brown eyes leveled with Lex’s. “You don’t know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lex, for our parents and grandparents, children are their immortality.”
Lex was suddenly dipped into a bucket of ice water. Grandma favoring her right hip, that vulnerable moment when she’d looked so old and tired. Was Grandma feeling her age and working to increase her legacy? An extension of her own life?
“I also think . . . I hope this isn’t gossip . . .”
Lex waited. Jenn would spill eventually.
“I heard Grandma telling Mom that she stopped seeing her friend Mrs. Matsumoto.”
Mrs. Matsumoto had babysat each of the cousins. She was also Christian, and very vocal about it too. “Grandma and Mrs. Matsu-moto clash all the time. They’re too much alike — both outspoken.”
“No, this time I think it’s serious. I don’t know what Mrs. Matsu-moto told Grandma, but she won’t talk to her at all.” Jenn feverishly jabbed her chopsticks at her bed of crispy noodles. “I think that’s why Grandma’s after us. After you.”
“Huh? Speak up.” Jenn had a tendency to not only lower her husky voice, but to also talk to her chest.
Jenn looked up with a troubled gaze. “I don’t know this for sure, but . . . maybe she’s being hard on you because you’re always so adamant about dating a Christian.”
Lex blinked. Mainly, that had been a tactic Lex used to keep Grandma from throwing the sons of her Buddhist friends at her. “That doesn’t make sense. Grandma’s never liked the fact we four are Christian, but she’s never been outright hostile about it . . .” Until now.
Jenn went back to stabbing her noodles. “I’m wondering if Mrs. Matsumoto said something that really made Grandma uncomfortable.”