Game Plan

Natalie Corbett Sampson

Clubhouse Press

Game Plan

Copyright (C) 2013 by Natalie Corbett Sampson

All rights reserved

First edition, Fierce Ink Press, 2013

Second edition, Clubhouse Press, 2016

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, locales, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Edited by Whitney Moran

Cover design and Title font by Matt Reid

Ebook formatting by Dog-ear Book Design

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

www.NatalieCorbettSampson.com

An eternal thank you to the Mama who shares my girl, for giving her a shot and giving us the piece that completes our family.

xie xie

Contents

Prologue

September

October

November

December

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Ella wasn’t a reader. Novels often left the reader with unanswered questions, and she had enough uncertainty in real life. She sometimes enjoyed a book if it was a fast-paced, easy read, but she preferred flipping through her playbook. She had meticulously saved every handout, with the squiggles and arrows, X’s and O’s, and filed them away in a one-inch blue binder. In her playbook, where to start and where to end up was clearly laid out in black and white. Each play included contingencies for the unknowns. Real life didn’t work that way. Big events that defined her overlapped and collided with the smaller occasions in her life. She tried to identify events that might specify who she was, where she was going, where she would end up. She wished starting points were indicated with an arrow, like a street sign or a play-squiggle; something that would point her the right way. It would be easier to recognize the beginning of a play. But beginnings are easier to find in hindsight. Looking back, it was clear that hers started one warm day in September that seemed just like any other.

SEPTEMBER

Ella was late. Again. She cursed her night owl tendencies—How do I forget how hard it is to get up when I stay up watching Jimmy Fallon?—and vowed to go to bed earlier. Sighing, she tossed her math text carelessly in her book bag and her court shoes into her gym bag. Great day to forget those, she thought. I’d be screwed if I missed the first tryout. She was determined to make the starting lineup. She brushed her long hair and drew an elastic twice around the high pony, folding her hair only halfway to keep the heavy length off her neck. With a quick glance in the mirror—clean jeans, T-shirt (only slightly wrinkled)—she zipped up her hoodie and assessed herself aloud. Good enough. She shouldered her backpack, grabbed her gym bag and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen.

Watch it, dork, grumped her brother Ben when she brushed past him. He stood at the fridge staring at its contents with glossy eyes, one hand propping the door open and the other braced against the top. He wasn’t a morning person either, his ever present backwards Jays hat covered a mop of bedhead. He ignored her growled Look out, so she ducked under his arm, between him and the food, and grabbed her bagged lunch and a can of Diet Coke. The fridge door swung shut as she pushed him back out of the way. Banana it is, she thought as she snatched two from the fruit bowl on the counter and handed one to him.

No time for breakfast, she told Ben. She didn’t wait as he picked up his book bag and followed her out the door, racing to catch the bus. The September sun was still low in the sky, shining off the dewy leaves on either side of the gravel driveway. The air smelled of rain and worms but the sky was clear. Ben’s footfalls kicked up gravel as he caught up and matched her hurried gait. They reached the end of the driveway just as the bus rounded the corner and shuddered to a stop in front of them. When the doors opened, the voices of students stumbled over one another. The bus was always loud. The driver glared at them from under his worn cap as they climbed the steps, but they'd long since grown immune to his impatient stares. Ella followed Ben down the aisle through the ruckus and fell into the seat in front of him, while he landed beside Charlie.

Sliding down further in her seat, knees propped against the back of the bench in front of her, Ella fiddled with the earbuds in her old iPod until the static cleared. She didn’t really mind the ride; forty minutes was just enough time to get ready for the day. She had known most of the kids since elementary school and on the bus they were together without expectations: no teachers, no chores, no listening parents. She watched out the window, letting her mind wander until she felt a hard jab on her left shoulder. She yanked her earbud out and turned to glare at the boys behind her. What?

"He was under the tag. Right, Ella? Did you see it?" Charlie stared at her with his dark eyes narrowed, waiting for her to answer. It took her a moment to realize they were arguing about the baseball game from the night before. Ben and Ella had fallen into their father’s love of the Blue Jays to be loyal to him and to their Canadian roots. Charlie’s team was the Red Sox from nearby Boston. It didn’t matter that Boston consistently fielded a winning team while the Jays lost season after season. Ella remained steadfastly loyal to her favourite underdogs.

Yeah, saw it… He was out. The ump blew it. And without that run, we’d have beaten you in the ninth. That was the difference in the game, right there. Charlie rolled his eyes as she punctuated with, Stupid ump.

Face it, Lassie, you just can’t handle them losing—though you should be used to it by now. Ella narrowed her eyes at him and turned back to slouch in her seat. Charlie knew Ella hated being called Lassie. Her ninth-grade math teacher had called the class Lads and lassies, sneering at them over his fingerprint-smeared glasses. She made the mistake of complaining about him to Ben and Charlie once. They’d laughed and teased in fake Scottish accents, "Pass me that pen, Lassie Lassie, Mom’s calling you." Since then, whenever Charlie needed to get under her skin, he would slip that moniker into a sentence. She would glare at him then shut him out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her frustration. It never seemed to deter him.

"Aw, c’mon, Ells, it’s okay … they’re in a rebuilding year." Ella raised her hand and flipped him the bird. Hearing the boys laugh, she smiled to herself and fiddled with the earphone jack to reduce the static again.

Ben met Charlie their first year of school and they had been friends ever since. Ella spent much of her last year in preschool trying to win back her brother’s attention whenever Charlie came over. For some reason the boys tolerated her while they played. It helped that she was never a girlie girl, preferring to climb trees and run through the woods out back.

Then for a few years she realized it was not cool to be friends with ‘a boy,’ so she let her friends believe she thought Charlie was gross like all the other boys. At home she would still play video games or ball with them but at school she avoided him. Her friend Karen thought it was hilarious. Once in third grade Karen led the whole bus in an out-of-tune rendition of "Charlie and Ella, sitting in a tree…" until the bus driver hollered over the noise at them to sit down and be quiet. It was the one time Ella was glad for his impatience. At their stop Ella raced off the bus, tears stinging her eyes and threatening to betray her cool indifference. She never talked to Ben or Charlie about it. The next morning as Ella climbed the steps onto the bus she kept her head down, feeling eyes on her and wishing she could be invisible. Without looking at anyone’s face, she slipped into the front seat. Ben and Charlie got off first and stopped to wait for her, but when she stepped onto the pavement she met each of their gazes briefly with a hard stare, put her head down and walked right past them. Charlie didn’t talk to her again in school that year. Even years later, on that sunny morning in September, she felt a pang of guilt for the way she had treated him. But that was then. Ella shoved the memory out of her mind as the bus bounced over the potholes in the school driveway and came to a hard stop.

Stepping off the bus, they headed towards the school. Ben gave Ella a gentle shove as he ran past, calling, Later, sucker! She watched the boys disappear through the front doors.

Ella! Her name floated from somewhere in the parking lot. She turned to see Karen waving as she moved between the parked cars. Ells, wait up! She stopped and waited, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. She straightened her shirt. Karen strode past and swept Ella into her gait. Her sleek hair was pulled neatly up in a couple of clips. Long and blonde, it caught in the sunlight and glowed around her face like an aura. Her tank top was tight and black and barely met the low-rise jeans that hung at her hips. Her knee-high boots clicked on the linoleum floor when they entered the school, announcing her imminent arrival. Although Karen was her friend, Ella sometimes felt like a child beside her. Karen had poise, an attitude of confidence and self-assurance that Ella envied, not to mention hair that did what it was told instead of frizzing wildly between curly and straight. As the girls traveled the hall, students turned to greet Karen, who continued her monologue, speckled with comments thrown to the side, … so I told him if that’s what he wanted, I’d go too—hey, Melissa! Nice boots!—but I didn’t really want to. He should’ve known. I mean, really, right? Val! Get my text last night? I mean, what was he was thinking… Karen’s ridiculously loud laugh ricocheted off the locker-lined walls. At their side-by-side lockers, Ella fiddled out her combination while Karen lamented, Why can’t boys just grow up a little?

Realizing she had lost track of Karen’s complaint, Ella gave a noncommittal shrug and asked Are you sure you’re not going to try out for the team tonight?

Too much to do. Between homework and that stupid job, I won’t have time to see Jake if I play ball. Besides, she managed to pout through her grin, he said he’d miss me too much.

But the season is only ’til Christmas, it’s not like it’s forever. Did he actually ask you not to play?

No, ’course not. I wouldn’t listen to him anyway … but when I mentioned it, he seemed kinda bummed. It’s not like I’m the star of the team, either. Don’t worry, I can cheer you on from the stands just as good as I would from the bench. As Karen spoke she walked backwards down the hall. Good luck tonight. I’ll text you later to see how it went. Ella waved and turned towards her homeroom.

Between final bell and the start of practice, the rush of students moving en masse from classrooms to lockers to buses was chaotic. Ella dumped her books in her locker, shouldered her gym bag and maneuvered through the fluid maze of people to the girls’ locker room. The door swung shut behind her, muffling the noise from the hallway. Several girls were already in various states of changing and she easily spotted Alex by her red hair, in the far corner tying her court shoes.

No Karen? Ella shook her head. Told ya. Well, we tried. Not much we can do if that’s what she wants.

I know, I just hope she doesn’t regret it later. Ella nodded towards the other corner of the locker room at a younger student tying her shoes for the second time. I’m glad that’s not me. I was so nervous last year I felt like throwing up, though I’m not feeling much better right now.

Me too, Alex agreed. At least you know you’ll make it … I don’t.

Ella rolled her eyes. Shut up, Alex. Don’t be dumb.

No, really! What if there’s some superstar first-year here today? I don’t think I’m on for sure.

’Course you are, Coach knows how you play. Alex finally smiled. C’mon, let’s go. I’ve got to burn off some of these nerves.

A push of the gym door released the reverberation of basketballs hitting the floor and walls and making poor, heavy shots. Ella took a deep breath, held it for a minute, then puffed up her cheeks and let it go in a slow, audible blow. The gym was loud and reeked of wood and sweat. It sounded and smelled like basketball. The boys and girls were mixed throughout the court, taking shots at baskets or huddled together in groups stretching, chatting or watching the activity around them with flitting glances. Ella spotted Charlie and Ben shooting with a few friends across the gym and tried to catch their attention, but they were engrossed in a rough two-on-two match. An errant ball rolled towards her and she picked it up, pushing it to the floor and gently slowing its return with her hand. She had missed this: being on the court, feeling the hard, rough ball press up against her fingertips. She felt the echo of its bounce move through her shoes, up her legs and into her lungs. She took a few strides forward, pounding the ball along with her, and shot at the closest basket. The ball bounced off the front of the rim and spun wildly away from her. Shit, she whispered, making a face.

Parker! Watch that shot! Coach yelled from the sidelines. Ella grinned. It was good to be back.

Out of breath and wobbly-legged after practice, Ella shuffled into the locker room behind Alex. That was tough. I should’ve run more this summer.

Tough? Alex groaned. At least you got some in. I couldn’t shoot to save my life!

Crashing down on the bench, Ella sighed and leaned forward to untie her shoes. I think everyone was a little off. Coach didn’t look too thrilled. Dropping her voice she added, I hope the team looks better than we did today. I swear half of them only come out because the guys warm up with us. Around the room several of the new girls were whispering and giggling in twos and threes. Alex rolled her eyes. I mean, really."

Ella followed Alex’s line of sight and smothered a laugh. It’s not like there’s anything out there worth watching. Her wet, warm feet felt much better released from her restrictive socks as she slipped on her flip-flops.

Alex turned a shade brighter and muttered under her breath Well there’s … a couple guys…

She means, There’s one, Ella thought, slipping on her hoodie and pulling it down at the waist. She wasn’t sure Alex even knew the vibes she cast when it came to Ben. Ella knew her brother wasn’t interested in the least, though she didn’t know why. He once said he wasn’t into redheads, but Ella thought he was just making excuses. When Alex came over, Ben would hide in his room. Alex didn’t seem to notice, but Ella did, and she felt embarrassed for her friend. Stuck in the middle, she didn’t know how to tell Alex—or if it was even her place to do so.

Hey, where’d you go? What’s up? Alex asked.

Ella smiled and shook her head. Nothing. But shit, look at the time. I gotta go. Mom’s picking us up. She looked back to make sure she had all her gear. Text me! she yelled as she hurried out of the room and down the hall to her locker where Charlie and Ben stood, looking impatient.

Hey Lassie, what took you so long? Charlie asked as she drew closer. Ignoring him beyond a quick glare, she crammed her gym bag in the locker, tossed her court shoes down with a hollow bang and stared at her pile of textbooks.

C’mon, Ella, Ben said.

Shut up, will you? I’m trying to think. What books do I need tonight?

Look out, Benny, she’s thinking. The boys snickered and slowly sauntered down the hall towards the front exit, squeaking their sneakers as they went. Math, English, no history tonight, she counted as she added books to her bag. Then she slammed the door shut, replaced the lock and hurried after them.

They were passing the girls’ locker room as Alex burst out. Hey, look out! Ben said as he stooped to pick up the math text he’d dropped. Walking behind them, Ella wondered if her face was reddening as she felt Alex’s embarrassment. Alex diverted her eyes and mumbled an apology. At least he’s decent enough not to relish her embarrassment. Alex tossed a sheepish smile at Ella then escaped down the hall.

Stepping out of the school, Ella could see their mother parked at the end of the lane moving her head to music they couldn’t hear. Told ya she’d be waiting, her brother chided as they picked up their pace towards the car.

From behind them someone yelled, PARKER! They all turned to see Sam loping towards them. He was tall and slender, built in the arms and shoulders. He wore his blond hair longer than most guys, with wide, bouncing curls that fell below the nape of his neck. Girls swooned over him. He turned heads in the cafeteria and down the halls. He was outgoing and friendly, and rumour had it he would be named captain of the basketball team. He made Ella feel off balance.

He closed the last few yards between them and cruised to a stop. Hey. He held a grey Roots sweatshirt at arm’s length towards Ben. This yours?

Ben looked surprised, then relieved. Yeah, thanks! He took the sweater, balled it up and stuffed it in his bag. Ella glanced over at her mother’s waiting car then looked at her feet. Her palms were clammy. Gross, Ella, get a life.

Hey, good practice today. Sam’s smile was audible in his voice. When neither Ben nor Charlie replied, she looked up and saw the three of them watching her.

Oh, she responded. Um, I guess.

Running that zone drill, you weren’t half bad… Ella felt heat rising in her cheeks. The silence of the moment was full but her mind was empty and she had no idea what to say. Well, for a girl that is, right guys? Sam slapped Charlie on the chest with the back of his hand as he snickered at his own joke. She looked up and caught Charlie studying her.

Um, thanks… She regretted her choice of words as soon as they escaped. Where is Karen with her witty retorts when I need one? Risking a look, Ella saw Sam’s steady gaze was still on her. His laugh had settled into a soft, friendly smile. Shifting her weight between her feet, she looked from Charlie to her brother for a rescue. A car horn beeped twice and she looked back to see her mother frowning and gesturing from the driver’s seat.

I’ll see you round, said Sam. Taking a step backwards, he turned on his heel and ambled towards the parking lot. For the briefest moment, Ella stood watching him go and then caught up with Charlie and Ben as they hurried towards the car.

"For a girl? Ben repeated. If I’d said that…"

Yeah, what’s wrong with you, Lassie?

Whatever. Not worth my time. Ella prayed they couldn't see the redness she felt burning in her cheeks or hear the pounding in her ears. She climbed into the front, giving her mother a smile, while the boys scrambled in back. Sorry to keep you waiting, Mom.

Her mother acknowledged the apology with a nod. How was practice?

Alright, Ella muttered, looking out the window.

The boys laughed as they recounted stories of the first-year students who scored on the wrong net during the scrimmage or tripped over the ball during a weave. Ella turned in her seat to watch them emphasize their stories with their hands and arms, laughing at their antics. She shut out thoughts of Sam Cleveland and the almost-conversation they’d had, worried they would project on her face and give her away.

Twenty minutes later, after dropping Charlie at his house, Ella’s mother slowed and maneuvered the car between the two spruce trees at the end of their long driveway. Ben hopped out of the back seat, but before Ella could follow her mother stopped her with a cool hand on her arm. Who were you talking to?

Ella resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Sam Cleveland, he plays on the boys’ team.

Ah, her mother said, still holding her gaze, eyebrows raised and lips curled. He’s cute. Ella gave in and rolled her eyes, forced a smile back and opened the car door.

Once inside she climbed the stairs to her room, tossed her bag on the bed and flopped down beside it. Propping up her head with her hands she looked, unseeing, up to the ceiling. Stop being so stupid, she chastised herself aloud. "He wasn’t even being nice." But that smile, her mind argued. She groaned, knuckled her eyes with her fists and reached into her bag for her phone. Four texts. The first one was from Karen: HEY GRL. HOWD IT GO? J MADE IT UP 2 ME ;)

Ella rolled her eyes. Lately Karen was always insinuating what she was doing with Jake. Even though she couldn’t tell how much was true and how much was exaggeration, Ella wasn’t interested in the details of Karen's sex life. She’d had changed since she started dating Jake. I’m just jealous. Ella fiddled with the floppy ears of the small stuffed dog that had lived on her bed since she was small. Its fur was matted and flattened from wear but was still soft. Well, what high school girl wouldn’t want to be swept off her feet and romanced by a popular senior? But for Ella it was easier to be one of the guys. She could banter about sports or trade sarcastic quips, but as soon as conversation turned serious or personal she ran out of things to say. She didn’t know how to flirt or even how to tell if someone was flirting with her. Fack, you’re such a loser. She shook her thoughts from her head and took her math book out of her bag, hoping to distract herself with homework.

❊❊❊

Standing in the middle of the dinner mess in their kitchen, Katherine could see the answer in Danny’s face. One by one, the muscles around his eyes and mouth fell. He caught her eyes and lifted his shoulder in a minute shrug as his jaw set. Yes, I see, we’ll be in touch, he said into the phone in a low voice, holding her gaze. His face started to blur as tears filled Katherine’s eyes. She tried to keep them in, push the disappointment back down, but as Danny ended the call he offered a small, resigned smile that shattered her control and released her tears. She buckled, still locked in his eyes, and folded into the chair behind her.

In two strides, he was kneeling in front of her, his hands on hers folded at her chest. "Shh, shh, shh, Kat. Shh," he whispered. He pulled her close and stroked her hair as she buried her face in his neck. She took a deep breath but couldn’t stop the tears. Her stomach turned and her ears pounded. She had hoped so hard. Prayed so hard. But this was it. It was over.

Later, they lay facing each other on top of their made bed. Katherine found some comfort in the furry warmth under her hand. The dog curled contently between them, breathing slowly with the deep rise and fall of his side. The night had fallen on the other side of the blinds, and the wind gusted, making an arrhythmic rustle in the wooden slats. The muted TV cast highlights and shadows on their faces and the walls. She clutched a ruined tissue in her other fist. Danny reached up and brushed a loose blonde ringlet off her face.

We could try one more time. Her voice caught as she whispered. We could take out a loan.

Danny smiled sadly. C’mon, Kat, we agreed this would be the last time. I don’t want to borrow any more money. We owe enough as it is. I think we’re getting a pretty clear message that this is just not going to work.

"It could work. One more try might be enough. She hated the desperation in her own voice and felt guilty for trying to talk him out of their agreement. He only agreed to the latest once more because she wanted to so badly. And because she promised it would be the last, whatever happened. I’m not ready to give up. I just … I just …" Her voice trailed off but she didn’t cry. All of her tears were spent. Her eyes burned as she searched his face.

There are other options, remember? he began. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to block out what she knew he was going to say. We could adopt. There are lots of kids out there who could grow up to hate us as much as any kid we could make.

Katherine smiled in spite of herself and silently thanked God for the man who was her rock. "I don’t know. I want our baby, yours and mine. Our own." With her eyes closed, she heard his quick intake in response.

It would be our own, Kat. I know it, he whispered. She said nothing, but remained still and concentrated on breathing. She heard him sigh, felt his palm on her cheek. Her lips turned up to his touch as if by reflex, and she finally fell asleep.

That Friday Katherine sat with her tea and made a list of errands on her phone, hoping to cram the day full enough to push out the empty moments that might sneak up on her. She usually loved her days off, but that day she wished she had work to distract her. At least she could wear comfy sweats. Downing the last of her tea, she picked up her keys from the table by the door, slipped into her sandals and patted the dog gently on his head. Sorry, Coop, no dogs allowed at the grocery store. He lifted his ears and cocked his head as her hand touched the doorknob. No, Cooper. Stay. The dog’s tail and ears dropped. She pushed the door open and stepped into the crisp fall morning air.

She turned the ignition over and the country radio station up, relieved it was an upbeat tune. Music always soothed Katherine, no matter how broken she felt. With a shoulder check, she pulled onto the road and accelerated, shifted gears and turned the radio up another notch. She sang along as Brad Paisley coerced a girl into a walk in the woods. As he led into a guitar solo, Katherine’s mind wandered to her own journey that had ended that week.

She and Danny had been married for seven years. University sweethearts, they’d married after graduating with their first degrees and moved together to Boston, where they could both finish professional degrees and start careers. She remembered worrying about becoming pregnant while in school—an unexpected baby would throw a wrench into their plans. Determined not to blow her academic chances, she was militant about their use of birth control. Years of fear-inducing health classes in high school had left her feeling that looking at Danny sideways under the wrong alignment of stars could leave them too-soon parents, and her a professional never-was.

In the car that September morning, she laughed bitterly at her lack of forewarning. She wondered if she would have had more fun had she had known the futility of her vigilance. She wondered if Danny thought so.

They had been so excited when they started trying to have a baby five years ago. They’d counted forward to the baby’s first Christmas, planned their summer vacation around the practicalities of traveling pregnant, just in case. Month after month Katherine had searched her body for signs. Month after month she was met with disappointment, right on time. They tried everything. Doctor’s visits and tests, diets and charting and timing and supplements gave way to drugs and medical procedures. They asked all