Page 27 of The Player in New Zealand
“Okay, sir, let’s see how good you are.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Prepare to be annihilated.”
This time there was no messing around. Tane strode up, grabbed the axe from the box, and then threw it one-handed, easily sinking it into the bull’s-eye.
“One-handed. Is that regulation play?” I teased.
Tane smacked his bicep with his palm. “Playing with a handicap.”
I snorted, and took my next shot. Tane schooled me, as expected, but toward the end of the game, my arms were getting weak. Even trying with all my might, I couldn’t quite get the axe up toward the circles in the upper corners.
But then, after one of his throws, Tane tripped a little bit returning to the bench.
I reached out, but then hesitated a moment, remembering that he’d retired because he’d injured his ACL multiple times. And Tane had already been defensive about it, so I needed to be gentle. “Are you okay?”
He eased down next to me but didn’t meet my eye. “Yeah. Sometimes my knee gets a little wobbly.” He rubbed his right knee absentmindedly and I thought about that first night we met when he toppled over—very drunk—but maybe his knee had exacerbated the situation.
“Do you think it’s less wobbly now that you are sober?”
He gave it some thought. “Maybe. But it also aches more.”
“I bet it does.” Of course it didn’t surprise me that the drinking was self-medicating.
“Every retired athlete has pains from old wounds. My da couldn’t get out of bed sometimes. Slipped discs.”
I thought back to my conversation with Nina and my cyber stalking. “He’s a retired rugby player too, right?”
Tane nodded. “Was. Papa’s been gone for ten years.” Before I could apologize for my misstep, he went on. “He was the reason I played, and the reason I retired. I could have had another surgery, more PT, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Someday a hit would take me down and it wouldn’t be my decision anymore. But it doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.” His face was pinched. “Would I have had another year? Or three?”
“That couldn’t have been easy,” I said softly.
He let out a dark chuckle. “I thought about my mum and how much of a burden my da had been on her. She’d practically raised us herself, Papa always off at games. And then when he couldn’t play anymore, she took care of him.” Tane’s eyes were unfocused, his memories all he could see. “I didn’t want that to happen. You know, I’ve got no wife, my mum’s aging, Nina’s got her family. But somehow I became the burden anyway, the drunk who couldn’t keep his shit together.” Tane’s eyes fell on his hands, clasped between his knees. His focus sharpened and he picked at a cuticle. “What about your parents?”
I sighed. “They live in Boston. I haven’t talked to them since I arrived here. I’m not even sure they know where I am.” Tane frowned, but waited for me to continue. “They were always a little distant. They had me and my sister close together—Irish twins—and I think it was more than they wanted to handle. And then, a couple years ago, I needed help and they didn’t really care.” I shrugged, thinking once again how thankful I was to have Iris. “I think they didn’t like the responsibility.”
Tane hummed. “I can understand that. If you start to doubt your decisions, it’s easier to just not make any. Not that it’s the right thing to do,” he added quickly. “But that’s like what I did with alcohol, you know? Used it as an excuse to have a good time instead of being responsible.”
I nudged Tane’s shoulder with mine. He barely moved. “You’re doing good now. You decided to give me a chance with my drinks.” I put a hint of a tease into my voice, trying to leaven the conversation and leave Tane with something other than disappointment in himself.
It worked, and he chuckled, this time a little lighter. “Pretty pleased with that, aren’t you?”
We smiled at each other, holding eye contact for a bit longer than we normally would have. “Anyway,” I said, checking my watch and breaking the moment. “I’ve still got another half an hour before my shift, but I don’t think I’m going to have the energy for round two. I do have to be able to reach the top shelf tonight.”
Tane accepted the change of topic, dusting his hands off. “Hold on, I’ve got an alternative.”
He strode over and rummaged around a cabinet set against the wall of the porch, and emerged with six shiny metal discs. “Throwing stars,” he said when he returned to the seats, handing me three.
“What? No way! That’s awesome. How do you throw them?”
Tane demonstrated, and they were easier to throw than I’d thought they’d be. I held them between two fingers over my shoulder and flicked them at the target.
He took the row next to me, and we launched the throwing stars at the targets until Marissa came out to find me and call me in for my shift.
“Thanks, Tane,” I said, setting the discs down on the table. “That was fun.”
“You’re a proper employee now,” he teased.
“Because I know how to throw an axe?”
