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“Can you just tell us if she’s dying?” Kelley heard as she came around the corner.
That question stopped her in her tracks while her head went spinning. It was her first day as an assistant coach for the Gotham Academy team, the 15-17-year-old group specifically, though there was the occasional expectation she would pop by the other groups.
“I…what? Why would you even ask that?” The youth teams' resident athletic trainer asked, flustered, clearly unprepared.
“She NEVER missed a day last season. She missed two weeks of pre-season, came back looking like she’d blow away in the wind, and is gone again. No one will tell us anything. We’re not little kids.” The player argued, a whine slipping in at the end.
Kelley frowned, unsticking her feet from the floor, then surely she’d know if there was someone that sick in their midst.
“Morning!” Kelley said brightly, pretending as if she hadn’t just overheard that exchange.
The player and trainer both snapped their heads to look over at her. The trainer looked relieved to be saved from this conversation, but the player looked frustrated in only a way a teenager knowing something was being hidden from them could.
“Ah, O’Hara, welcome to the 15-17 team! Martin, and this is one of our midfielders, Macey.” Martin introduced himself again, even though they’d met; Kelley was glad. She had been half a second from calling him Steven.
“Great to be here.” Kelley chirped, reaching to shake both their hands.
Macey eyed Kelley suspiciously, weighing her next move.
“Martin. Please.” She finally said, before nodding to Kelley and walking away.
Martin sagged against the wall once she was out of sight. Kelley shifted her feet, unsure of what to do in that moment that seemed too heavy.
“She’s not dying,” Martin stated, eyes closed, nose pinched.
“OooK?” Kelley managed.
Martin glanced over at her, “They didn’t tell you?”
Kelley didn’t love not knowing when it seemed like she should, “No. What is this about?”
Martin sighed, “Come with me, out of the way of prying ears.”
He led them through the tunnels into the staff office rounds and shut the door with a defined snick before taking a walk around to ensure no one else was there.
Kelley raised an eyebrow, unamused.
“Hannah, the head coach, has a chronic illness, an autoimmune disorder. My understanding is that it’s typically well managed; the last two years, she’s taken maybe one day off because of it. Something changed, though, and she’s having a hard time. Physically, she can’t stand for very long, even less time in the heat. She was hospitalized for a week for it. She’s home now, but really, she’s not at the capacity to come in and work with them. I went over there this weekend to chat through this week without her. Her mind is there, but she looks like hell and feels even worse. She’s IV dependent on something. I didn’t pry, so I don’t know what, but when we moved from the couch to the office, she had to move her whole setup. Even if she could come in, she doesn’t want to scare the kids. They adore her. They’re worried. She doesn’t want them to know much if she can help it, but it’s eating them.”
Kelley stood there, stunned. Her annoyance shifted to guilt immediately. She’d been talking to Hannah for weeks, text, email, a few phone calls; they’d met in person earlier in the year. She couldn’t reconcile the strong woman she thought she’d see today on the field with the woman Martin was describing.
“Oh my God.” Kelley managed.
Martin nodded, sighing heavily.
“What do the girls know?” Kelley asked.
“Just that she’s sick. She came back for a bit a few weeks ago before it got even worse. They could handle the ‘oh it’s just a really bad illness’, but now they’re scared.”
“Does she know how they are coping?”
“No. I’m sure she guesses by the sheer volume of texts she gets from them wishing her well, but I can’t bring myself to tell her, none of us can. The girls, they adore her. She’s the best coach I’ve worked with in my whole career. She respects them, and they would go to war for her because of it.”
Kelley saw firsthand how the team was doing that day. There was a hum of stress coming off of the players. A strained hope. A fear. It was affecting how they played. She got in her car and drove home to an empty house. She stared at the door, willing herself to go inside. It still didn’t feel like home, even now, over a year out from her divorce. She wondered if she made a mistake sometimes. She loved her wife. It just didn’t work. There was a growing resentment. They felt more like roommates than anything else. So, when she tearfully brought up the idea of marriage counseling, she was relieved when her wife agreed, right up until it all went sideways and somehow therapy ended in an amicable divorce. Some days were harder than others.
Kelley didn’t realize she’d already hit call by the time Hannah answered the phone.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I was…I was just thinking on my way home. I must have been talking to myself, and Siri called or something.” Kelley panicked.
Hannah snorted a laugh, “Damn, and to think you were calling to give me the rundown on your first training with the kids.”
Kelley loosened a bit, “I mean…I could, I guess? Uh, are you free now?”
Hannah was quiet a moment, “Yeah. I uh…doesn’t matter. I’m available.”
“Want me to bring over dinner, and we can go over some of my thoughts?” Kelley shot in the dark, words falling out of her mouth before her brain could catch them.
“I’ll text you the address, and I'm not sure what you’re in the mood for, but I’ll send you a couple of places on the way from the stadium, just let me know which one you pick,” Hannah told her.
“Sure, thanks.” She didn’t tell her she’d already made it to her too-empty home.
Kelley picked up their order from a hole-in-the-wall place she could never get a reservation at, nonetheless, takeout. Hannah put the order in, and the owner herself met Kelley at the door, eyebrows creased in worry, telling Kelley to please make sure Hannah was alright and to let them know if they could do anything. Hannah had requested that Kelley just walk into her home, so she awkwardly knocked on the inconspicuous front door of a normal-looking house as she let herself inside.
“Hannah?”
“Come on in, just follow the sound of my voice,” Hannah called back.
Kelley rounded the corner and was glad she had come with a poker face. Martin was right. She looked like hell. Kelley traced the IV line that snaked into her shirt, under some kind of vest, out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ve never even gotten a table at this place. I didn’t think they did takeout because they have so many people trying to get in every night.” Kelley tried for small talk.
Hannah laughed, shifting towards the raised coffee table closer to Kelley, “They don’t, but I’ve been going there for years, and given the current situation, they made an exception. I assume the case was held hostage until you promised to ensure you would report back if I needed anything.”
Kelley laughed, surprised at the ease with which Hannah danced the minefield, “Well, I wasn’t necessarily going to tell you that, but yeah.”
Hannah smiled, “They’re good people.”
“Holy fuck this is delicious.” Kelley half interrupted, mouth still full.
“Literally the best. I know.” Hannah laughed.
Kelley closed her eyes, focusing on the dance of flavors, savoring it.
“Sorry, I know I said we’d debrief, but damn.”
“No, I know. We can chat when we can.” Hannah agreed.
Kelley did glance over, ensuring that the massive bowl of soup disappearing next to her plate was making it into the ill woman next to her.
“I’m not dying, by the way. Martin told me you heard Macey. I know it looks bad, and it is, but it’s not dying, bad. I have MS. I’ve been lucky to go without a flare up for the last 5 or so years, but this last month has been hell. I am at least steady now. They finally got the cocktail right, now it’s just a matter of physical therapy and getting back on my feet. I couldn’t really get out of bed until the last few days. Even now I’m at risk of falling asleep sitting here next to you. My body is just exhausted.”
Kelley felt relief that the woman next to her wasn’t dying, but still, something in her felt protective of just how frail she looked.
“That…thank you for telling me, I can’t imagine. I’m…I mean if you need to call it, please just tell me to get out. But I’m really glad you’re not dying.”
Hannah shook her head, a fond smile on her face, as she went back to her soup.
“Just don’t be offended if you look over showing me match film and I’m out like a light.” Hannah laughed.
“Hopefully I’m not that boring.”
“You could never be that boring O’Hara. I’m sure the girls were starstruck today with you.”
“No. They’re too worried about you to be I think.” Kelley admitted gently.
Hannah sighed, “Yeah, I…I don’t want to scare them, ya know? I’m their coach. I usually run with them, tag in for players in scrimmages so they can watch the dynamic I want them to adjust. I can’t even make it to the far field right now.”
“I think they’re scared either way.” Kelley told her.
“I’ve written the email a hundred times. I keep thinking, maybe tomorrow it’ll be over.”
“Is that possible?”
“Yeah actually. Not like super likely, but I could wake up fine tomorrow and be fine for the next ten years. There really isn’t a warning system for your nervous system attacking itself and when it decides it’s done for now.”
Kelley nodded, she was making a list of questions to research later, thinking through the many physicians she’d worked with over the years and who might be the best call to make.
“Anyways, enough about that. Tell me about your first day.”
It was the first time Kelley had laughed that freely since before her marriage fizzled out. It wasn’t fair how funny the other woman was without meaning to be. She was attentive, interested, and injected a humor and a lightness that could only come from a deep love and knowledge of the game. Kelley watched her for signs of pain or discomfort. She didn’t see any, but she worried that it was because it was a constant current.
Hannah stood slowly, like she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her, when Kelley got up to leave.
“You don’t have to, you can stay.” Kelley started.
Hannah shook her head, “I’m walking you out and going to bed.”
She moved so slowly, her body tense and controlled. Kelley wanted to hover, tuck her into bed, and lock the door on her way out, instead of letting the woman handle it all herself.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Too late,” Kelley admitted, snagging her by the arm as she stumbled.
“I’m alright. I’m alright.”
“Your legs are literally buckling.” Kelley pointed out dryly.
Hannah laughed, “Unfortunately, I am well aware. Would you believe me if I told you I made it further than I did yesterday?”
Kelley furrowed her brow, thinking hard, “Where is your bedroom?”
“Upstairs.”
“Literally how…”
“Slowly.” Hannah interrupted.
“Please, let me help.” Kelley tried.
Hannah shook her head, “Thank you, but we are co-workers. I don’t want you to veer to pity too quickly. Just let me do it.”
Kelley teetered at the door, then shook her head, “It’s not pity. Panic maybe. I have the visual of you crawling up those stairs and falling halfway up.”
Hannah leaned heavily on the stairs at the door. Kelley looped an arm around her waist, holding the arm, and Hannah slid around her shoulders steadily. It was still slow, Kelley considered just putting her over her shoulder and carrying her, but she imagined that her knee would cave, and if not her knee, both ankles. Hannah’s lips were pressed into a line, and a sheen of sweat shone on her face at the exertion that took place.
Hannah’s room was surprisingly immaculate. Hannah brushed her teeth, leaning on Kelley and the sink. Hannah kicked her out so she could use the bathroom and change. Kelley paced anxiously, trying and failing not to read all the labels on the medication bottles and IV bags on the nightstand.
“Thanks.” Hannah managed as Kelley handed over the meds in the order she was asked.
Kelley hovered as she screwed the IV into the line, making a face.
“I hate needles,” Kelley told her.
“Oh, me too. So much. Fun fact, though, it’s not a needle, it’s a little tube that stays when they take the needle out. It still hurts like a bitch if you aren’t paying attention and twist weird though.”
“I think that’s worse, actually.”
Hannah laughed, “Ok. Meds handled. I’m safely in bed. I fed the cat before you got here. She’ll appear the second you’re gone. She’s very shy, really. Kelley, I’ll be alright for the night.”
Kelley nodded, willing her feet to move.
They carried on like that for the next week, Kelley brought dinner, they talked, they watched match film, Kelley made sure she made it to bed. She even got a glimpse of a very shy orange cat. The week after that, Hannah forced them outside for a slow walk prescribed by her medical team. Kelley kept an arm loose around her, unable to fathom the idea of Hannah getting hurt, especially after doctoring the scuff on her knee that she admitted was from basically collapsing on concrete the day before in exhaustion and pain.
Hannah fell asleep on the couch that night. They’d wrapped up the match film and put on shitty reality tv to make fun of while they chatted, and Kelley looked over when Hannah didn’t laugh to find her 90% asleep. She grumbled a bit when Kelley tried to wake her back up, then curled sideways onto Kelley’s lap with a sigh.
Kelley swallowed hard. She glanced at the clock. She usually didn’t leave for another two hours. That’s when Hannah needed to switch the IV bags for the night, which were put in today because she hadn’t had one during the last few days. She was incredibly weak, but she was so fucking stubborn. Kelley set an alarm and turned the volume down low. She rubbed her hand up Hannah’s back softly, alternating between that and a dull scratching at her head that she saw her do when she was thinking. Hannah slept hard for those two hours; she really didn’t wake up when Kelley tried to get her up, so she ended up actually carrying her that night. She squinted at the directions for the meds set out, reading them three times before scrubbing her hands and uncapping the connection. She’d watched Hannah do this for weeks, but her hands trembled now.
She woke up to a text message from Hannah asking how she got into bed, and then, after finding her meds correctly administered, thanked her. Kelley had smiled tiredly, dozing back off, trying to fall back into the dream where the other brunette was curled next to her.
It was terrible timing for Kelley to get a crush. Hannah was a colleague. Hannah was vulnerable. Hannah was so fucking pretty, so funny, and so smart. Kelley told herself it would go away, that the dull tug behind her ribs was a harmless crush, that it wasn’t an anchor digging a home.
In the fourth week, Hannah was sitting on the porch when Kelley pulled up.
“Well, well, well, what are you up to?” Kelley grinned teasingly.
“Guess who is IV free?” Hannah asked instead of replying, “Go on, guess!”
Kelley made a whole production out of it as she made her way up to where she was before scooping Hannah into a hug. She looked so much better. She’d regained some of the weight she’d lost, she didn’t look waxy and sick anymore, her hair was shiny, and she’d been smiling more. Kelley’s heart sang with every smile, laugh, and movement that didn’t look pained.
“Happy for you,” Kelley mumbled in her ear.
Hannah hummed, “Me too.”
Kelley held her for a long while, long enough that she knew she needed to let go, but couldn’t, long enough that she knew Hannah wanted to hold her too. Hannah traced small patterns up her back, holding Kelley just as intentionally.
“If I can make it to the end of the street and back, I can make it to the far field,” Hannah said quietly into the crook of Kelley’s neck.
That got Kelley to loosen her hold and offer her arm. They made it there and back, and Hannah stayed awake the rest of the night. She looked tired, but not exhausted. Kelley followed her upstairs like she had the last month, only to pause at the foot of the bed. She sat down, pulling her feet up while Hannah got ready and came back out to find her there. Hannah laughed.
“I guess you don’t need me anymore,” Kelley mumbled, blushing.
Hannah smiled, her cheeks tinged pink as she stepped up and crawled into her spot, looking down at Kelley near her feet. She opened her arms after taking her meds, beckoning for Kelley.
“Relax, Kel,” Hannah said quietly, rubbing up her back.
Kelley melted into her, wrapping her up in her arms.
“Night.”
“Night.”
When Kelley woke up, she felt rested, a type of rest she hadn’t felt in a decade. She wanted to stay in bed, to luxuriate in the comfort of the cocoon of her covers. She nuzzled her face against her pillow, nestling in to fall back asleep, only for her eyes to fly open. Her pillow was on Hannah’s chest. She pushed up carefully. Hannah was awake, reading on her tablet, the other hand stroking through Kelley’s hair.
“You can go back to sleep, Kel. It’s not even 7 yet.”
Kelley stared at her before settling back down.
What. The. Fuck.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Kelley started.
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t.” Hannah replied simply.