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“She’s coming home, she’s coming home! Van is coming home!”
“If you don’t mind, would you quiet down in the back please?” Riley shook her head and turned on the windshield wipers for what had to be the twenty-fourth time. “Vanessa won’t be coming home if I don’t get us to the airport in one piece.”
The culprits, Thompson, Emslie, and Henry—the latter talking over a Zoom call—immediately quieted. They’d been so excited about the return of Vanessa Gilles that it was all they’d talked about ever since coming in for training. Riley had to remind them to focus four times during training, and now they were on their way to the airport.
“Sorry, but it’s so exciting!” Thompson bounced in her seat, grinning so wide that Riley couldn’t stay mad at her for long. The upcoming holiday season, plus the decorations being hung all over Los Angeles, had her positively gleeful. "Vanessa's been gone for more than a year, and this is the first time I'll be seeing her since then."
"I remember. You were seventeen then, little one." Press ruffled Thompson's hair, loose from its usual bun and tucked under a black beret. "She's coming all the way from Canada, though, and she was in France before—”
"And she has to be in Australia after, so no making her tired. I know." Thompson stared out the window at the trees in the center of the square, aglow with fairy lights. “Vanessa had to leave all of us behind. I hope she's happy in Lyon. ”
"Oh, she's happy, all right." Emslie smirked from behind her phone. "I blackmailed her captain to make sure she was happy, or else.”
Henry stared at the Scot from the tablet screen as if she'd gone mad. "You threatened Wendie? Do you want to die ?!"
Thompson and Press laughed, while Riley couldn't help but crack a smile. Renard, who'd been captain of Lyon for goodness knows how long, was not one to be messed with. Riley knew that from both anecdotes told to her by her teammates, and by personal experience.
"If I were you, I'd watch myself around Wendie. She's not as harmless as she looks." Riley slammed the brakes as the traffic light turned red. "You heard what Amandine said. She's not someone to mess around with. She called out Diacre on public television, and she could easily give that new guy they've got a talking-to if he forks up."
Thompson's eyes widened like saucers, Emslie blushed, and Press didn't even dare laugh. There wasn't much laughter when they hit a line of traffic, either.
"Great, just great." Riley slammed her fists on the steering wheel, staring at the lines of cars snaking ahead of them. "Vanessa is probably off her flight, waiting for us in one of those zero-star waiting areas with the driest pretzels in the world, and we're stuck in the longest gridlock in history.”
Thompson raised an eyebrow, looking up from her tablet. "What's a gridlock, Chrissy?”
“British talk for a traffic jam. I found that out while I played for Cannonballs." Press looked out the window, eyes widening when she spotted something. "Hey Cap, why don't we park over there in that empty parking space? Walking shouldn't be as bad as if we drove to the doors."
Riley pursed her lips, her forehead resting on the steering wheel. Normally the captain would keep her eyes on the road, but there were so many vehicles on the road alongside them that they were barely moving. "There's a risk of people recognizing us if we step outside the blockage.”
“What's a blockage, Chrissy?”
“We won't be able to recognize ourselves from advanced aging if we stay in this queue," Emslie pointed out. "I vote that we vacate the car right here and now, for heaven's sake!”
"What's a queue, Chrissy?”
"It won't be that easy. We are part of the local soccer team, after all." Riley took a glance at the traffic outside and sighed deeply. "But I'll do anything to get out of this darned logjam. Let's go.”
“Chrissy! What's a logjam?”
"If you ask Christen one more time what something is, I'll blow a fuse," Emslie muttered through gritted teeth as Riley turned the car towards the parking lot.
*
“Vanessa!!!” Thompson shrieked as she ran full-force into Gilles. The Canadian had barely stepped off the escalator before Thompson broke free of Press’ grip on her. “You’re here!”
Meanwhile, Emslie was more focused on becoming the next Vanilla Ice. “ Gilles, baby! Vanessa Gilles, baby!”
“Oh, look at you now AT! All grown up and wearing Heather’s hat.” Gilles hugged Thompson tightly before turning to Emslie. “Aw, don’t get all pouty, Claire, I missed you too.”
“You’d better have.” Emslie took Gilles’ luggage and started rolling it away, while Thompson and Riley pulled Gilles along with them. “Happy in Lyon? Do I need to blackmail anybody?”
“I’m quite fine, and you do not need to blackmail anybody. Spoiler alert, Wendie wasn’t even threatened by that threat. She just rolled her eyes and laughed.” Gilles chuckled at the memory as she readjusted her backpack. “So, what did I miss? What’s the news, how’s the square decorated…”
Gilles’ expression went from excited to shocked as she took a good look at Press for the first time. “What are you wearing?!”
“Oh, this?” Press chuckled. “It's just something I found in the closet. I thought it would be funny to wear today.”
Gilles just shook her head in disbelief. "I swear you are the only person wearing a light-up Christmas sweater today.”
“It's cold!”
“It's fifty-five degrees.”
“You're just saying that ‘cause you're Quebecoise." Press adjusted the hem of her green, red and pink Christmas sweater, waving the others forward. "Come on, girls, let's get Vanessa home before she trashes my whole wardrobe.”