Page 104 of Sweeper
“A little blonde girl who couldn’t be more than ten years old answered the door. She was the spitting image of her mother, and it took my breath away. Vilma and I were very close when we were in college, but once she met Vaughn and started having kids, we lost touch. I didn’t know her kids like I should have.
“But this little blondie was holding the hand of her little brother, and two other blonde boys were sitting on the stairs behind her. They all had tears in their eyes, so I bent over to ask her what was wrong. It was then that I heard shouting farther in the house. It was Vaughn fighting with his eldest son. Had to be oldest because the boy’s voice was cracking as they bellowed at each other, and I think Vaughn’s eldest would have been a young teen at that time. The little girl looked up at me and wiped away her tears and said in the most grown-up voice I’d ever heard, ‘It’s just Daddy and Gareth having a discussion. I’m handling it.’”
Jane shakes her head in amazement. “Such a tiny little thing but she spoke with such fierce confidence, I didn’t dare question her.” Jane sighs heavily. “It was clear at that moment that Vaughn’s plate was overflowing, and since I was due to start my new job in Boston in just a couple of weeks, I didn’t want to be yet another burden for that little girl to handle. Though I’m sure she would have been up for the challenge.”
“Vi definitely would have been up for it,” I say, my eyes glistening with tears. I’ve gotten to know my sister-in-law a lot throughout her marriage to Hayden, and fierce, momma-bear confidence describes her still to this day.
“Do you know Vi?” Jane asks, looking at me curiously.
I nod slowly. “She’s married to my brother.”
“Oh,” Jane says, her eyes wide as she covers her mouth. “My God, I’ve said too much.”
I reach out to grab Jane’s hand. “You have my complete confidence, Jane. But I do hope you share that story with Zander someday. I think it’ll mean a lot to him.”
She nods and rubs her lips together. “If he ever speaks to me again.”
“He will.”
She eyes me thoughtfully for a moment. “You said you and Zander are just neighbors? Not something more?”
The question hits me right in the chest, and I do my best to school my features to remain calm and collected. “Just neighbors.”
“Well, you’re wonderful for going to all this trouble for me. I’m sure you feel like you’ve been plunked right into an episode of Maury Povich.”
She laughs, and I almost feel bad when I reply, “I have no idea who Maury Povich is.”
“Oh.” Jane chuckles and rolls her eyes. “It’s a vile talk show that’s nearly entirely all about paternity tests. Awful joke I just made.”
I smile and give her a light nudge. “It’s good to joke in times of stress.”
Suddenly, the stadium begins chanting the Bethnal Green fight song. I join in because you can’t work at Old George for a year and not learn this bloody chant. Jane watches in awe as the crowd all rise to their feet, hollering at deafening levels down to the pitch. I point at the tunnel, and her focus zeroes in on the players making their way out, escorting their smiling youth mascots. Jane’s eyes go wide when she spots Zander. It isn’t long before she’s wiping away the tears running down her cheeks.
“Jerry would have loved this,” she yells over the fans, her face twisting in pain as she looks up to the sky and pulls in a deep breath.
A wobbly smile lifts my face, and I finally allow myself to glance down at Zander. My heart breaks at the beautiful sight of him all polished and brand new in his clean kit and holding a little girl’s hand. If we were still together, would I have come today? Would he have wanted me to?
The hate I’ve had for him the past few days has shifted into something different. A melancholy has settled over me as I’ve empathized with the agony in his mum’s story. I can even understand a bit why Zander felt desperate to seek out his own answers. I think I could even forgive him for using me to get to the Harris family, eventually.
But the problem is, he didn’t just use me. He disappointed me. I thought we were something real, something special. I thought we were connecting on a level that superseded all of that. He clearly thought otherwise, and I’m humiliated that I let my heart run away without noticing that he was lying to me the whole time.
I suppose it’s better to find out the truth now than when we’re months down the road, and I’ve given my whole heart to him. Zander has enough to work through in his life. His mum, his career, his involvement with the Harris family. I don’t need to be a part of that story.
Zander
A sweeper lives in two worlds.
The first is where they are a defensive player only. They are charged with the task of “sweeping up” the ball off the opponents who have encroached the defensive line from a failure in the system. It is their job to prevent a center forward from challenging the keeper. A sweeper must be safe and smart. They cannot afford to make any mistakes because they are literally standing in front of their own net. Mistakes here can be fatal.
In the other world, a sweeper is also an attacker. They must read the game and anticipate the moves of the other players to shift into the positions of greatest need. They have the ability to control the entire pace of the game, when to pass, when to keep, when to punt, or what play to set up next. A sweeper’s decision in the backfield has a ripple effect that can result in a goal on the front field.
In many ways, it is the sweeper’s game.
And as I play my ass off, feeling the euphoric effects of every save, every pass, every punt, every chant from the stadium, I can’t help but feel as though my own life mirrors that of a sweeper.
Do I play it safe in my position and live the life that my parents set up for me? Or do I take a risk and lay my cards on the table to see what the chain of reaction will be?
And why is this all on me? Why do I have to be the one to decide all of this? I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to find that letter. I didn’t ask to be recruited to Vaughn Harris’s team. Not really.
