I swallow hard and close my eyes.
“I was not living, Dad. Evan died, and I made this impulsive decision to just put it in a box and never love anyone again,” I say. “I go to school. I live with Holly, and I hope like hell she never meets anyone for real so I don’t have to live alone. I’m thinking about continuing on to get my practitioner license, because school is something I have figured out, and when you’re in school, you have this sort of built-in excuse for being alone. I can lie to myself and say that’s why I don’t date. I can lie to people who try to fix me up.”
I breathe in deep, flapping my arms against my side with a heavy exhale. “I don’t date, Dad. I haven’t since Evan died. I haven’t done more than flirt with cute doctors, then run away when they actually looked interested. I’m a goddamned mess, or at least I was...until Will found that girl I used to be.”
“Maddy, you’re just infatuated with this memory; it’s nostalgia, and it’s normal. Will is a good friend—hell, I love that boy…”
“He’s more than a friend, Dad. He’s that and so much more to me you have no idea. There are things…” I stop and take a sharp breath. I can’t share pieces of Will that aren’t mine to share. That’s for him to do, but my dad just needs to understand how special Will is. “The man Will has become would astound you, Dad. And if you really loved him, like a son, you would dig a little deeper to find out exactly what all of those things are. And you’d let him compete on fair ground, with you behind him—with you really pushing him. I see you hold back. You let him slide today. You know he’s capable of more, but you don’t want him to succeed. If Will wins, he’s in. That’s…”
I stumble back a step and watch my father’s shoulders sink.
“If he wins, you have no choice,” I say, my eyes slowly sweeping up from the ground between us, my mouth open—stunned.
“I’ll talk to him before that. He won’t, Maddy,” my father says, his eyes flashing just as mine do at his words. He didn’t mean to let all of that come out.
“You can’t take that from him!” I shout.
“We’re in the hole—” My father fires that response, and I scrunch my face in confusion. I wait while he walks around the pool to the opposite end, bending down and picking up the binder he dropped several minutes ago. He flips it open as he walks back to me, holding it flat in both palms. I look from his eyes down to a delinquent bill clipped into the rings, pressing my finger on the paper and sliding it to the other side to see the next bill underneath. Statement after statement—mortgages, second mortgages, threats to cut power, liens, bankruptcy papers.
My bottom lip falls open, and I gasp as my eyes flit to my father’s. His cheeks hang low, dragging his mouth with them, and the sadness in his eyes is the most honest look I think I’ve ever gotten from him.
“I need to coach this team, Maddy. I need to be successful, and I need to bring big sponsors to the table. I do this, our business will rebound just because of the fame. Without it?” He pauses, flipping the book closed in his hand, the pages snapping shut. “This club is closed by winter.”
“How did this happen?” My mind is spinning with everything—with Will, with my parents’ debt, and the idea that a place I identify as home could be ripped away from us.
“Time, less kids swimming,” he shrugs. “It’s always been hard, and I think you know that.”
I nod because yes, I do.
“It just got harder, and then…” My father stretches out his hands, his financial burden held in one and the other empty.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” I say. “Has Mom tried anything? Maybe something public, with the city? Like a takeover, partnership…whatever…”
“Why do you think she ran in the first place?” My father’s mouth quirks up on one side and his chin lowers to his chest as he pulls the binder in close.
It’s quiet between us for several seconds while my mind works to process what’s happening. I spin it a dozen ways in my mind, and there isn’t a single way that everyone wins. I keep coming back to Will, though, and how many times he has put everyone else first. The funny thing is, I bet if my father asked him to step away, he would. But Will has sacrificed enough.
“You have to let him compete,” I say, my eyes snapping to his.
His head shakes, but I fight on.