Chapter Text
The press had been relentless post-relegation from the Premier League as the entire Premier League and English Football League seasons round to a close and the teams begin the transition up and down between seasons. It hadn’t helped that Rupert made jabs, personally and professionally, at every opportunity. Rebecca was sure it was more Rupert going to the press with his opinions instead of the press seeking him out. After all, she had picked up the team more than midway through the Premier season and AFC Richmond had already been in the lower-middle of the table. Probably why her revenge plotting that first Christmas alone had worked so well up until she had come clean to Ted and Keeley and she had actually wanted the win or draw against Man City.
The long hours dedicated to the relegation took up most of her days in the break between seasons. Going from presser and sponsorship revenue of £167 million pounds to a measly £4-6 was astounding. In her mind, she knew this. Knew back at Christmas when she was plotting that if she could get them relegated, no one would stick around and wait for contract renegotiations. Especially with an American rodeo clown who knew nothing about football at the helm. But that’s all changed. Ted has given the team some time to be sad and angry. He's given them a speech about moving onward and forward and being goldfish. Said he would never hold it against them if they left for better opportunities. Luckily for them, AFC Richmond qualifies for a relegation parachute payment of £42.6 million pounds from the Premier League to adjust to the lack of revenue. So, the parachute helped but it wouldn’t solve all the problems that kept piling up. And the press asking about sponsors, and the team, and what Old Rebecca thought of Rebecca (Bex) and Rupert getting married and having a baby this year wasn’t the type of press that died down with the next cycle.
Ted had stopped by with biscuits in the morning and a sandwich or some other snack in the afternoon to remind her to take a break from the screen or phone calls. With the players and coaches getting a six-week vacation, of sorts, Ted had made a promise to Henry to visit as soon as his school was out which gave him a few weeks here during the relegation. Which meant Rebecca had a few weeks to give Ted the download of what needed to happen as they shift from the Premier to the Championship League. They’ve made it two weeks post-relegation and have nine days left before Ted heads back to Kansas for two and a half weeks. Not that Rebecca’s counting the days or has it in her calendar on her phone.
Every other Friday, when he did the sandwich swap with Beard, she hadn’t expected him to drop by at lunch. The secret sandwich switcharoo, a well-known activity in the clubhouse, had been a standing tradition long before the two came to Richmond. But, somehow, Ted would come up to her office and there’d be an extra sandwich in the brown bag the three times he’s done it over the course of his tenure at AFC Richmond.
“You don’t need to do this on Fridays, you know,” she tells him the fourth Friday he shows up during said switcheroo Friday. She knows it’s pointless to point out he doesn’t have to do any of this. Just like daily Biscuits with the Boss, she had no chance of stopping Ted’s mission. It makes sense to her now, a sort of knowing inkling about his father after he won that dart game with Rupert. About how important having standing plans is for Ted. “I know you and Beard have a standing sandwich swap every other Friday.”
He carries on sitting down at the edge of her couch where he usually took up residence, pulling out the sandwiches from a large brown paper sack. The sack has a caricature of a greyhound with a top hat. Ted always seems to chuckle and fondly fold the sack so it doesn’t crinkle whatever Beard’s drawn. She has bets with herself on how Ted probably keeps his favourites somewhere in the office in those file folders near Beard’s desk.
“Oh, Coach packs two sandwiches on switcheroo days. I mean he used to pack just one and I’d always pack two because the man has a hollow leg. But that’s Coach’s seal of approval.”
She raises a brow but he misses it. Stuck in his own mind replaying the words.
“I mean, uh. Seal of approval, on the whole 'don’t have to eat the sandwiches together' type thing.”
“Ted, it's fine,” Rebecca assures him. "I know what you meant to say."
He looks up as he purposely sets the sandwich on the coffee table that sits in front of the L-shaped couch rather than getting up and letting her eat at her desk. It’s not a break if you can still touch your computer or phone, boss, he always reminds her when she’s slow to join him.
She silently mutters under her breath as she stands from her chair mostly for show. It wasn’t as if she was in the middle of anything. She’s set a calendar reminder to not be busy at 2 pm which is when he makes his way up to her office. Give or take a half-hour. It’s one of the few hours he has available between the clinics and the summer training for the guys who didn’t want to go home for a few weeks or the few that need a signed contract for their visa renewal. In fact, prior to him coming up to her office, she always readies a new pot of tea for herself and triple checks she has non-sparkling water that chills in the mini-fridge that is hidden away in one of her cabinets.
Before moving to the couch, she heads to pour herself a tea and grabs him water, passing him the bottle as she moves to sit opposite him. She usually takes the corner near the arm closest to her desk but when he comes to her office for these breaks, she’s learned to scoot over to where Keeley usually plants herself. The corner cushion separates them and Ted hums as he unscrews the cap of the water.
“Shoot. You want chips, uh, crisps?” Ted points his thumb at her door. There’s a vending machine near his office that has the snack-size bags. He’s seen her eat them at games when he peers up from the pitch into the owner’s box. Knows Keeley sneaks over here rather than having to pay an arm and a leg at the concessions.
“No, thank you,” she shakes her head as she unwraps the sandwich from the paper wrap Beard uses. “I still have your biscuits if I need a side.”
“Mmh,” Ted takes a deep breath and she looks over as he sniffs his sandwich. “You’re in for a treat. Beard likes to roast his own turkey, even when it's not Thanksgiving. He calls it preppin’ for the big day. This sandwich is basically Thanksgiving between two slices of bread.”
They don’t have Thanksgiving in England. The younger generation who have either gone to study abroad in the States or are crazy about American culture have since adopted the holiday as a 'friends gathering' type dinner. But she can’t say she’s ever attended Thanksgiving. She gets the gist. The turkey, various potatoes, green beans, gravy, and cranberries. It sort of reminds her of an American version of Sunday roast dinners she used to have with her mother and father. But that was a beef roast with potatoes, peas, carrots, Yorkshire puddings, and Eton mess for dessert. She is pretty sure Americans have pies as the Thanksgiving dessert. Something about pumpkin or pecan rings a familiar bell. But the heavy meal is all the same principle, in her mind, at least.
She grows curious and opens the sandwich, knowing there are all sorts of side dishes associated with Thanksgiving that would be questionable between bread. But it looks like there is a healthy portion of shaved turkey, a white cheese that she can’t identify right away, arugula, and some sort of cranberry preserves. Putting the sandwich back together, she briefly wonders if Beard makes his own bread loaves and she watches Ted take a bite. His eyes close and a smile appears on his face as he makes a sound in the back of his throat.
“Thanksgiving on the last day of May. Who knew,” he says behind his sandwich as he continues to chew.
She watches as he continues eating the sandwich and nods with his chin to her own. Breathing in and holding it, she takes a moment and then takes a bite.
It’s different, she thinks as she chews. She likes the tang of the cranberry. Beard has to make his own preserves since it doesn’t seem to have the artificial sugar aftertaste one finds with the store-bought jams and jelly. Getting hints of orange and a sort of clove-like warmth as she continues to eat. It’s both surprising and expected at the same time, as she ponders the many mysteries of Ted's best friend.
“Beard roasted the turkey, then?” She asks as she finishes her first bite as Ted watches for her reaction. He’s learned by trial and error what she doesn’t like in a sandwich or salad. Raisins being the top contender for the worst salad topping. Tomatoes and strawberries are up there but nowhere near her distaste for raisins.
“Oh, yeah. Every summer back when we were at Wichita State, we’d have a little barbecue for the players before we began practice. That man roasted turkey, briskets, and ribs. It was a hoot. We were actually thinking about doing it with the guys here, you know? More team bonding with the players we snap up during the summer trade window.”
Rebecca nods. It certainly makes sense. AFC Richmond under Ted has never been conventional and that includes the team bonding activities. Anyone can see the bond strengthening on the field as the months extend under Ted and Beard’s direction.
“And with me going to Kansas in a few weeks, I might as well get the best barbecue sauce. Already bringing a separate suitcase just for the sauce.”
Rebecca chuckles and continues to eat her sandwich as he talks about his trip and what he and Henry plan to do. She’s distracted by the thought of maybe asking Higgins and Keeley to help her host Thanksgiving this year so Ted and Beard would have a little tradition from back home when Ted says something that piques her interest.
“Who knew putting roots down in London would require more background checks and about a thousand signed documents saying I will return my own son to his mother or get approval for changes before they happen?” He tells her. “I agreed to give her primary custody since this is home for me, but it’s weird, right? I mean, I guess there are those people with the crazy contentious parental rights battles…”
He’s been more open since her confession of active sabotage. But unlike before when he told her that he and Michelle had been having marital problems a few months ago, she actually welcomes being a sounding board. It might be a residual piece of guilt for lying to him all those months, but he doesn’t seem to mind sharing with her. Knows what he tells her will stay with her rather than become fodder in the halls of the club or for The Sun.
“You’ve put down roots?” She asks rather calmly. It’s the first she’s heard of this.
“Well, I mean, I’m still in that little rental place you...the team originally got me. So, not rooted in that sense. Didn’t Higgins tell you I asked him to make my contract a multi-year deal?”
With relegation came contract negotiations for every single employee at Nelson Road, not just the players. Since they didn’t have nearly the funding in the Championship as they did in the Premier League, she was still making deals with current sponsors to keep them for the year even without a lot of the air time they had been guaranteed with their Premier status. Apparently this year, the Championship League rights went to a few American companies. So, Henry would maybe get to watch the game on the television rather than on a computer screen. Hence her meetings, practically daily, as Ted and Beard determine who is worth keeping at the top of their pay range and who they could afford to cut salary and hope not to lose to another offer. The kit man, Nathan something, had bowed out to stay at the Premier League level. He had told Ted that his father had seen to it. Had reached out and pulled some strings to keep him as something with Arsenal. Rebecca hadn’t paid much attention to the nervous, bumbling fellow. Found him to be odd and terrified of her despite her saying maybe five words to him in his entire tenure at the club. But his contract had been pennies compared to someone like Roy or Isaac. The former, of course, retired a week ago but is signing on as an assistant coach after all the rehabilitation on his knee allows him to at least stand for an entire match.
She, Beard, and Ted had finished the player contract review three nights ago at the Crown and Anchor. The little corner of the pub is always available for the two Americans and on the opposite side of where the dartboard sits thanks to Mae’s soft spot for Ted. Rebecca had held a few bar napkins with their final thoughts that she had typed out the next morning and sent to Higgins to deal with the contract solicitors.
“I, uh. The contracts are sitting in my inbox. I haven’t read through the signed ones yet.”
Management and administration were first to sign and they’d see the leftover balance before negotiating with the players next week. Well, Higgins would as he is the Director of Football Operations. She would be the one approving the ranges which she had done with Beard and Ted, and will be sending them to the players in a few days' time so they can all see she's attempting to be as transparent with them as possible when it comes to how relegation is affecting the budget.
“Oh. Well, surprise,” Ted chuckles. “I just figured it would be easier for any judge looking at my visitation schedule request to show there’s some stability here, you know? Asked the lawyer, uh, solicitor you got here for the club on how that all works with my work visa and such. I was hoping if you liked the contract cost, you’d support the request I’ll submit for a two-year work visa. And, it's a little easier to calculate the support dollars that way. I think they do the support on an annual basis or something. I guess this might be why Michelle hired a lawyer rather than trying to sort it out herself.”
She nods and takes a moment to take a large bite from her sandwich so she doesn't have to answer anything right away. Still processing that he’s signed a multi-year deal after having a moment of loss of faith in himself a few weeks ago when he’d tried to hand her his resignation letter that had been written on the takeout menu she had left at his place after he had told her he had wanted to try Indian food again but needed a partner to tell him when something was a terrible idea. Not that Trent Crimm hadn’t tried that night at Ollie's place.
“Higgins let me know the rental place is good until January. But maybe I’ll have to start looking at real places that don’t have upstairs and downstairs neighbours. Maybe a yard.”
Rebecca chuckles at that. Ted has told her the stories of Ms Shipley. Been there a few times as of late when she’s stomped her floor and Ted’s answered with a yelled apology or tapped the end of a broom handle on the ceiling.
“If you don’t mind me asking, where do you live?” Ted wonders as he polishes off the last of his sandwich.
“Twickenham.”
“You know, you folks have the strangest names for little towns and whatnot. That sounds like a magical place right out of a tale by Beatrix Potter.”
She nods her head. It’s true.
“And Wichita isn’t?”
“Of course not. That’s straight out of a Mary Shelley or Arthur Miller piece.”
She laughs, rolling her eyes at him, and continues eating what remains of her sandwich as he tells her the plans he has for the custody arrangement he’s proposing to Michelle. He’s not asking for much, knowing how important stability and school is for a young kid. Henry’s spring break week and a month before they start the league games is all he’s really wanting. He’s sure it's all his schedule can really afford for visits when he takes Henry’s school schedule into account.
“So, why choose Twinkie…” Ted trails off.
“Twickenham,” she repeats slowly.
Rebecca shrugs. It’s far enough outside London proper and close enough to Nelson Road she can get to either place with her driver or in her own vehicle. It’s on the bend of the Thames that isn’t quite so crowded with tourists. Most of the press keeps to the other side of the river which delights her when she does have a free morning or evening to walk about the area or dine in instead of takeout.
“I suppose it reminds me of life before,” she gestures around. Before this. Before Rupert. Before she caught her father cheating on her mother at age sixteen. Twickenham wasn’t far from Cobham where she’d grown up until being moved to Leatherhead in year seven.
Ted nods.
“I get that,” he continues nodding. “Besides moving here, the furthest I moved away was for college. Well, you folks call it university. Whatever. Anyway, that was in Michigan. It's a state that’s really close to the Canadian border. Pretty far away from Overland Park.”
“We do have some history and geography lessons on the States here,” Rebecca confirms. “Actually, you might be able to help with something that’s always confounded me.”
“Shoot,” he grins and rubs his hands together, leaning in towards her.
“Kansas and Arkansas. Why are they not pronounced the same if there are only two letters difference?”
Ted furrows his brow, thinking on the question that’s been on her mind whenever she meets an American.
“Huh, I can’t say I ever thought about that,” he hums a little wondrously. “We certainly didn’t learn it in school back in my day. I wonder if Henry will know. I’ll have to ask ‘im. Do you think they teach first graders that kind of history? I think that’s year two here? Or, we can always ask Google. Google’s really good at answering questions.”
She smiles, genuinely, and has never found herself curious enough to Google it.
“Henry’s insight, if any, would be fine.”
There’s more shop talk as she continues to eat. Ted has hope that most of the players will stay on despite their salaries lowering for the year. But he and Beard think maybe one or two will be snatched up by the prospect of staying at the top and are trying to find a Premier League team that has an open trade.
“They believe in believe,” Ted hums a little emotionally. A cross between pleased and a touch of sadness.
“They believe in you, Ted,” Rebecca counters with a soft sort of smile that when he sees, he ducks his head. “If they leave, it’s not your fault. But, I think we’ll all be pleasantly surprised by how many stay. Like our fanbase, the players themselves are pretty outstanding, win or lose.”
“Now, I know you meant long haul kind of outstanding but I’m going to also choose to believe you mean super awesome outstanding because our boys are super awesome.”
“I’m not sure I have ever used those two words together, but you have done a wonderful job with the team, Ted. Many of them have grown into fine players under your direction.”
“Well, boss, you may have just rendered me pink and speechless with that mighty fine compliment.”
Rebecca briefly wonders if Ted knows the definition of speechless, but briefly chuckles as his neck does indeed turn a little blush pink.
She finishes her sandwich between telling him about how Keeley’s been working her magic with a few major sponsors since Dubai Air is like most major sponsors and prefers their logo being used on a club that gets major airtime. Rebecca doesn’t fault them, as it's business. But she’d rather have a new major sponsor buy them out rather than reach into the coffers of the club or her own bank accounts to pay out what they’d usually cover.
“Well, boss, I should let you get back to work. Beard has us in a Zoom meeting with a potential trade from Montreal. Friend of Zoreaux. Let me know if you or Keeley need any help with Dubai Air or any potential newbies.”
Rebecca nods and before she can lean over to bunch up her sandwich wrapping, Ted’s grabbed a corner and started crumpling it around his own ball of trash. He snags the folded paper sack that carried both sandwiches and tucks it under his arm.
“Tell Beard it was delicious. The cranberries remind me of my grandmother’s preserves.”
Ted grins and stands, tipping an invisible hat in her direction.
“I’ll have to pass that along, then. Have a good rest of your day, Rebecca. I appreciate you,” he lets her know before he turns and heads out of her office.
A few nights before he’s supposed to leave for Kansas, as she reads through Ted’s and Beard’s contracts in the low light of her office, a familiar knock sounds out and his head pops through the partially open door.
“Ted?” She asks.
Training and the gym sessions had long since been over. She’s certain she heard Jane’s yell and her car horn honk for Beard hours ago when she had her windows cracked to allow for some summer evening air to make its way inside. Ted had informed her the other night that Beard and Jane were off on some holiday after today’s scrimmage between the players who were about to leave for a few weeks of holiday and the potential recruits they'd sign when Ted got back from Kansas when the signing window opened. The halls of AFC Richmond will be hauntingly quiet the next few weeks as almost everyone takes a much-needed vacation or two.
“Burning the midnight oil?” He asks, reminiscent of what she asked him on his first official day a half a year ago.
“Something like that,” she nods as she closes her laptop. “What can I do for you, Ted?”
“Have you eaten yet?” He motions to the setting sun outside. He knows the answer but wants to hear the response anyway.
She shakes her head briefly.
“You want to maybe grab some takeout and finish the schedule review with me so I know when the heck might be a good time I can see Henry or Henry can come over here just in case Michelle doesn’t like the dates I pick?”
He’s been unusually unsure of himself when it comes to this part of his trip. Sure Michelle isn’t going to accept his proffered dates. It's difficult to come up with an anecdote from her own divorce since she didn’t have to do all the custody arrangements or the like. But she’s watched his hands and shoulders as he delivers biscuits or picks up an earl grey tea latte for her at the place he and Beard usually stop at before coming to Nelson Road on their walk to work.
The closer it gets to his departure date, the tighter his shoulders become.
She noticed the other day as she and Keeley sat on the couch going over the final contract terms the solicitors had already given their seal of approval for their new major sponsor, Diageo. Keeley’s phone had gone off, reminding her that Roy would need to be picked up from physio. After a round of goodbyes, Rebecca had watched the training for a few minutes and snuck down to the training pitch with a bag of crisps. Her heels sank a little in the grass as she leaned against the open gate. She had made a quip and he had turned, his face lighting up that she’d slum it with him and the boys. As he walked over, Beard pointed two little finger guns at her with a wink. She tipped the salt and vinegar crisps bag in Ted’s direction and he took his hands out of his pockets to grab a few as she watched the boys do penalty kicks and the cool-down drills.
The turtle, as she’s taken to calling the hunch of Ted’s shoulders, has returned and she wonders if he’s going to make it through the settlement. She knows his divorce proceedings won’t be like her own. He won’t have the paparazzi following him around, shouting, making everything ten times worse. But he’s stuck in his head and it’s only a matter of time before a panic attack happens again.
“Sure,” she answers, back in the present. She grabs her bag from the left side of her desk and she stands. Her coat is hanging on her coat rack and she had closed her window earlier. Nothing left to do, she leads the way out, only stopping for her coat.
He follows her out until they reach the doors where he opens the door for her, allowing her to precede him.
“I was wondering whose fancy ride this is,” he points out as he opens the passenger door once they’ve made it to the car park. “How many cars do you actually have?”
“Three if you count the Rolls,” she shrugs as she gets in and sets her bag behind her in the backseat of the car. Her foot presses on the brake as her finger presses the auto start button.
“Where to?” She asks, looking over as they reach for their seatbelts at the same time.
“Oh, well, I just know Richmond. So, if you want to escape the city we work in then by all means,” Ted fumbles with his seatbelt. He hadn’t gotten farther than asking her to dinner in his mind. Sure that she’d turn him down. Make an excuse about him needing time to pack or something about contracts.
Rebecca shifts the SUV into drive and sports a grin as she manoeuvres out of her unofficial parking spot. She knows the perfect place.
“I’ll show you around my neck of the woods,” she nods.
She’ll drive them to her place and she can order in and they can take a walk to pick up their dinner. Sure the idea of a stroll along the greenbelt will help Ted filter out his day and let him enjoy the sights of Twickenham.
--
She parks in the driveway at her house on Staines Road. He gets out and whistles as he takes in the home in front of him. The white two-story house looks like the kind he saw on the television watching Hugh Grant movies back in the day.
“Nice place you got here,” he hums appreciatively. Walking up to the door with her, he takes in the little letterbox and vines of maintained ivy that creep up the columns of the porch. There’s a plaque with the old-timey name of the house, but it means absolutely nothing to him.
Once inside, she toes off her heels and kicks them by the stairs and he takes a page from her book, toeing off his Nikes and makes sure they’re not in the way of the door.
He takes in the entryway of the house before him as she nods to follow. Hanging her coat on the coat rack, he whistles at the expensive-looking floor-to-ceiling mirror. He makes his way through the kitchen to find she’s making her way to the opposite end where an iPad sits in a stand.
“I think you might like this pub around the corner,” she lets him know as she touches her iPad and he looks fondly at her double oven that looks brand new. "I figured we could eat here rather than eat there?"
He nods slowly at her suggestion.
“You want to look at the menu?” She looks up at him as he turns to face her, hands in his pockets. She adds the peri peri chicken pizza to the order. It’s her usual go-to item and finds that it's not too spicy if he wants to try it or they want to share.
“Nah, you know what I like. Surprise me.”
Much like how he’s learned her tastes, she can’t help but know more about his preferences. She gives him a half-smile and nods before adding an order of the ribs and typing in her login information to place the order.
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” she says after a few minutes of tapping.
The screen goes dark after a minute and he removes a hand from his pocket to place it on the island countertop.
“Did you just move in here?” He wonders.
She shakes her head as she moves to the wine chiller and pulls out the sauvignon blanc.
“Moved in a few months before I left Rupert. So, almost a year?”
He nods.
“I’m rubbish at cooking and baking,” she shrugs honestly. “I burn the stovetop popcorn. And the air popper kind, too. You, umm, you don’t want me around the kitchen unless it's helping prep or making tea.”
He chuckles at either her words or the sight his mind makes up imagining her in the kitchen. Either way, it works.
“You want a drink and a tour?” She asks as she reaches for the wine glasses.
He nods.
“What do you have?” he asks as he makes his way over to her side of the island.
“Wine, red and white. A drinks cart is over there. I have whiskey, vodka, and gin.”
“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he looks at the label of the bottle out on the counter. It’s something European and not sold in Kansas.
She takes two glasses down and sets them on the quartz countertop before pouring them both a glass that they should be able to finish before they have to get their meal.
“We’ll start on this floor and go up.”
She shows him the formal dining room, the sitting room/lounge area, and the study with the wall of books he can’t wait to read the titles of at a later date. There are full and a half washrooms on this floor on opposite sides of the house. A posh-looking gym with the elliptical and rower machines with its own washroom has him wondering if it had been a bedroom in a previous life. There’s only one bedroom down here actually decorated for a guest but it’s the size of his kitchen and lounge area combined. There are bouquets of flowers in every room they've been in so far. And in every colour that matches the rest of the decor in the room. Big, bright blooms of various flowers. The rooms are neat and tidy, like her office at the clubhouse. Minimalistic design that suits the home and the woman who lives in it.
When she shows him the garden just off the kitchen and study, he notices there's an old wisteria in the back corner, carefully maintained like everything else. It must be in season as the blooms are big and bold. The grass is trimmed and goes on as far as the eye can see. The teak decking is intricately placed along the entirety of the back of the house and even hosts a couple of loungers that he could picture Rebecca using to soak up the early morning sun or watching the sunset on the days she doesn't have to show up at Nelson Road. He's pretty sure the shade-type thing lining a walkway at the other side of the garden is called a pergola. More ivy grows there, he spies. There's a gate door part of the fence that's locked from this side that looks like it might lead to something beyond the fence. The fence itself is high and allows privacy but he's sure it doesn't block the view of the second floor of her home.
“Backyards here are mighty long. Back in Kansas, backyards are more square than rectangle.”
“These days, I think someone would be lucky to get even a piece of green. Most want city life without needing to maintain a garden.”
Ted hums and sips at the wine in his glass as he watches Rebecca’s shoulders begin to relieve themselves of the burden that’s been this week. With tomorrow being Saturday, she doesn’t have to go to the club. But he thinks she’ll probably do it anyway.
“I’ll show you upstairs,” she nods to head back inside. “And, if you don’t mind, I’ll change before we beg off to get the food.”
“Nah, do your thing.”
She grabs her heels from where she took them off earlier with her free hand, moving them with the swing of her arm as they make their way upstairs.
“How many bedrooms?” Ted asks to fill the silence.
“Six total. Four bedrooms up here plus the one downstairs and the study you saw earlier has enough room for futon sleepers if I ever needed the room. I suppose seven if you count the weight room since it was once a bedroom.”
The only person who has slept over is Keeley. Sassy and Nora would be staying over in a few months while Sassy attends a conference. But that’s the extent of her house guest list.
Heading right, there are two bedrooms and a washroom for each. Each bedroom has a bed as well as a desk and chair. The desk has a vase of flowers, a few photos, and books that seem more decorative than books Rebecca or guests read.
On the left side of the house upstairs, she goes to the left and shows him a similar bedroom to the other two.
“And the master,” she moves to the other side of this side of the hallway and into her room. She isn’t too worried about the state. Mina comes every other day and Friday is one of the days she comes to clean.
“Wow, look at that,” Ted can’t help but move to her washroom. The bathtub looks like it’s floating, but the thing he can’t help but notice is the view.
There are a couple of acres of green behind the fence. Trees dotted along the fence line on the other side of her fence make him think there are always a bunch of leaf piles come autumn. But there are a few unmistakable football goal posts on the greenway.
“You got your own mini training field out there.”
She leans against the doorway between the bedroom and the washroom and watches him take it all in. It’s a little weird to be in her washroom like it was any other part of the house but Ted’s wonder supersedes the momentary awkwardness.
“Twickenham Tigers FC plays there,” Rebecca informs him with a nod to the window. “Not as professional as AFC Richmond but they’re a good bunch of kids. We all have gates for rogue balls and easy access to the greenspace and pitch.”
“Neat,” Ted hums. “Almost as neat as this tub.”
He looks down at the tub that can easily fit her tall stature.
“Now that’s an optical illusion. It looks like it's just floatin’ in mid-air. Like a lush cloud.”
Rebecca laughs and takes a sip of her wine before she lets him look around her washroom as she heads to her closet and pulls out a pair of jeans. Her blouse is fine for a walk without being too dressy. It's the skirt that’s the thing she’d rather change.
“I’ll change and then we can probably head over.”
They have plenty of time to walk a few blocks, but she knows Ted’s enthusiasm for the world around him will inevitably slow things down and they’ll arrive just in time.
He nods and escapes her washroom. He takes a quick peek around the bedroom, listening to her in her closet still. And a tiny smile lights up his face as he notices a familiar green Army man standing at attention right next to her alarm clock. It does something funny to his inside but before he can think more on that, he’s gently pulling the door shut behind him so she can get on with changing.
He pauses briefly at the landing, marvelling at the spacious house before making his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He swallows the remainder of the wine in one go and breathes in and out, fingers flexing as he ends up moving to view the garden from her window near the kitchen table as he waits for her.
Tying her hair up in a messy bun as she walks down the stairs, she calls Ted’s name and he shuffles into the main entryway as she opens the coat closet and toes on a pair of Nike trainers. Doesn’t miss the soft smile on his face as she closes the closet. They’re the AFC Richmond ones they received from the team. Well, as AFC Richmond as you can get when the team (Isaac) makes custom Air Jordan in the limited colours Nike allows. Isaac and the team had pitched in and made the unique pair for her, Ted, and Beard as thanks for the support even through relegation. She opens the front door as soon as he steps into his shoes and he shuffles out, making his way to the SUV when she calls his name and her upper half tilts to the sidewalk in front of her driveway.
“I thought we might want to walk,” she thumbs over her shoulder. “It’s not far.”
“You know I love a daily constitutional,” he smiles as he walks over and they brush shoulders as she turns around to steer him in the right direction.
He blathers for the first few minutes as he compares his and Beard’s walk to Nelson Road with her neighbourhood.
“I can see why you like it here. Very family-friendly. Great little green spaces for the little ones. Shoot,” he winces as he replays what he’s just said. “Gosh darn it. I’m sorry, Rebecca.”
He had come to her office later that day when she confessed to her sabotaging. Told her that Colin had seen Rupert Mannion exit the training centre because he and Richard had taken longer to get the balls that had sailed over the post before training had started. She had told him what Rupert had told her. Glossed over her reaction but knew he could put two and two together with why she had tears in her eyes for the third time that day. He had extended an invitation to his flat that night. Made her something called goulash and noted it was what his mother had made him whenever he had a big day. A big emotional day, she had read between the lines. As the dinner was a comfort food, he opted to let them sit on the couch with bowls of their dinner and turned on an old episode of Miranda.
“No, Ted. It’s okay,” she reaches out and a hand moves to catch his forearm as he mimes hitting his forehead. “Twickenham is known for its schooling and the overall family neighbourhood vibe.”
“Still,” Ted tries again.
Her hand moves down his arm, squeezing his fingers before letting them go as she tells him it's okay.
He’s quiet for a block before he can’t help asking about the little squirrels that apparently aren’t terrified of humans like them as they continue walking down the path to the pub.
--
He spends the walk back to Rebecca’s house attempting to guess what she had selected for dinner. Most of its ridiculous items. She’s sure half is fair food found only in the States since she’s never heard of deep-fried Oreos or marionberry pie.
“I didn’t know if y’all even knew what barbecue looks like,” Ted looks positively delighted as she unpacks the takeout from the bag as soon as they get back to her place.
She laughs as she removes the lid of the container on the ribs and lets the smell permeate the kitchen.
“I don’t think they use your favourite barbecue sauce, but I thought I’d let you weigh in with your professional opinion.”
As she takes out the cardboard box holding the wood-fired pizza, Ted takes his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo of the ribs, and sends it to Beard.
“Beard?” Rebecca asks knowingly as she moves to get plates from the cabinet.
“Got it in one.”
She sets the plates down, separating them as she gestures to the takeout laid out before them. Ted digs in, taking a portion of the ribs with the hand-cut chips and generous helping of coleslaw before re-arranging his plate so he can take two slices of the pizza after she assures him the spice level is not as spicy as he thinks it would be.
She follows but only grabs two of the ribs, having never had them in her life, and a less generous helping of coleslaw before taking two slices of pizza.
“I, uh, eat at the island most days,” she nods to the other end where his empty glass sits. Hers is still in her washroom, most likely sitting on the counter from when she emptied it before she had come down the stairs before they had left.
“Hey, I have that very sad-looking set table for one with a box of that shredded wheat y’all have here. So, samesies when I’m not having dinner with you or Beard-o.”
She laughs and shakes her head as they move from one space on the island to the other.
“Another?” She points at his wine glasses.
“Sure,” he nods as he sits opposite her, his back to the television mounted on the wall.
She doesn’t have to move far to get another glass and refill their drinks before sitting down. She finally sits and looks at her plate before looking up at Ted.
“Now, how does one eat a rib?” She asks with a bit of trepidation.
“Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy. You are in for a treat.” Ted grins as he picks up the rib and nods with his chin to her plate.
She follows his lead.
“Now, some people just take a bite or two and they call it good. But there are more than two bites of heaven here.”
She watches as he leans into his plate and takes a bite. His eyes closed, clearly savouring the moment. He makes a sound that’s reminiscent of the turkey sandwich in her office and she can’t help but chuckle.
He opens his eyes and nods.
“I mean, it isn’t Arthur Bryant’s barbecue but that dry rub is mighty fine. Mmh. Go on.”
He watches as she carefully bites the rib, dainty and unsure. She chews and it’s not bad but it’s also something she’d probably steal off Ted’s plate rather than order it for herself if she ever came across ribs on a menu.
“Now, if Beard was here, he’d basically devour this so it’s clean. I just sort of gnaw on it like a corn cob.”
She furrows her brow.
“I’m guessing y’all ain’t got any corn on the cob at the local fairs. Hey, do you all do local fairs?”
“A few, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen corn on the cob?” She thinks back on what food had been available the few times she’s been to the fairs over England. She hasn’t seen an ear of corn. Popcorn, sure. But not an ear off the stalk.
She follows along and makes it through the couple ribs she had taken, but leaves the rest to Ted as he intersperses bites with anecdotes about the fair in Kansas City that spans two states. She does, however, steal his chips and makes a face at the coleslaw. It reminds her a little too much of some sort of sweet tuna mayonnaise base. The latter, he agrees with and tells her about his mother’s coleslaw that’s won some local Kansas cooking competitions. Ironic since the thing is chilled and not baked but who is he to judge.
It's later when the dishes have been done and she suggests the couch rather than the island that he brings out a folder of paperwork as she turns on an old episode of Bake Off to fill the void.
She sits next to him as he sits in the middle of her couch, her back against the arm of the couch rather than her cushion. Her socked foot brushing against his thigh as he leans halfway on the cushion as he spreads the Championship schedule out on the table before him. Beard has made little notes in green when there are breaks and he hands it behind him to Rebecca who is looking at the Wichita School District’s schedule for the upcoming year.
“American schools are baffling,” Rebecca notes with some interest as she takes the Championship schedule from him. “How does a family get to go on holiday when there are some holidays with only a single school day off?”
“Oh, uh, most families either travel at Christmas break, spring break, or during the summer. Otherwise, the airline tickets are crazy expensive. Well, they’re crazy expensive at those breaks, too. But you just gotta buy at the right time.”
Rebecca makes a face but Ted doesn’t catch it. Instead, he gets distracted by the words biscuit week uttered by Sue and Mel and she uses the distraction to concentrate on the two schedules before her.
She taps his thigh with her foot, asking for a pen, and he digs into his backpack without taking his eyes off the television. When he hands over the pen, his phone starts ringing with a FaceTime request from Henry.
“Shoot,” he notes and tilts his phone towards her.
She leans over the arm of the couch and hits the mute button. It's 9:45 pm which means it's the usual time that Henry chats with Ted. It's the time between school and homework or school and extracurriculars that won’t interfere with Ted’s sleep schedule.
“Hey, buddy,” Ted greets.
She makes careful notes in purple, potential dates that would work if Ted wanted to keep just Beard and Roy as coaches and take time off. Her curiosity piques as Henry asks what he’s doing and he mentions that he had dinner with her and now they were just sitting on the couch watching Bake Off. He let the camera face in her direction after she nodded okay so Henry could tell her that he likes the flowers behind his dad’s head. The orange and pink dahlias are some of her favourite flowers she has brought in to spruce the place up with some life that isn’t just her.
Soon enough, Michelle is in the background, telling Ted hi and reminding Henry he has to get ready for soccer. Henry nods his okay.
“Bye, dad. Bye, Rebecca. Love you,” he huffs before Ted gets out a goodbye and the FaceTime drops and Ted’s phone goes dark again.
“He plays football?” Rebecca asks as she passes the two schedules and the pen back to him.
“Knows more about it than I do, I think. But they don’t keep the score at that age. His tournament thing actually happens when I’m there so he’s really excited for me to see him play. I think that’s the only sport that goes practically all year round in Kansas.”
Rebecca hums thoughtfully.
He takes a moment as she keeps the television muted to look over her carefully printed notes, loopy cursive but still legible.
“Maybe I should just hire you and Beard as the schedule keepers,” he notes as he grabs onto the paper with both hands as his fingers tighten unconsciously. “Thank you for this. I appreciate you.”
“Ted,” she whispers, watching as he sets the papers and pen down on her coffee table and his fingers clench as he just stares at them.
She changes her angle on the couch. Her thigh pressing against his own as she leans closer and moves to hold one of his hands. “It’s okay. Just, breathe, Ted.”
Like Liverpool, her thumb gently traces the back of his hand as he holds her hand in his own. He breathes in a little shallow but it gets deeper as he continues to focus.
“Are you certain you should do this alone? I had thought Beard would welcome a trip back to the States after being away.”
He chuckles a little at that. Unconsciously rubs his thumb along the back of her hand, copying her movements from moments ago.
“I don’t know,” he stutters as he rubs at his temples. “The distance helps. Like I told you before, this job gave me the distance I needed to see what was really going on. I guess the closer it gets to the departure date, the more…”
He trails off and sighs.
“I promised Henry I would come as soon as the season was over, you know. Well, after he was out of school and all. And, I’m fine with Henry. You know, we have stuff planned and all but the rest of the trip…”
“Beard-o would rather avoid the States at this point. Not because of anything terrible, but, uh, his family isn’t the most supportive or encouraging and whatnot.”
Rebecca nods. She gets it.
“I guess, I had thought knowing Michelle for so long would be a benefit here. But, then I get inside my head and think about how long she had felt like that before she had actually come out and said…” he clears his throat. “I just. I guess I understand now why you all got the saying, 'it's the hope that kills you.’”
Rebecca lets the moment sink in and processes. On one hand, it’s nice to see Ted’s constant optimism does slightly diminish when facing reality. But it’s also his optimism that allowed him to help solve her problems. Like at the charity gala. It helped him solidly win at darts against Rupert. It allowed him to forgive her for something she saw as unforgivable. It’s what allowed the team to believe in belief which in turn allowed them the draw until Jamie had come back to assist in the score that got them to where they are now.
“Ted,” she tries gently. “Would you like me to come with you?”
She surprises herself at this ask, really. Doesn’t know why she’s asked but she’s laid it out there.
His brown eyes meet her own green ones. Something familiar in his eyes takes her back to Liverpool as he answers.
“I couldn’t ask that of you,” he notes quietly.
She takes a breath before she answers back.
“Divorce is hard,” she says the words to her that he had told her that day a mere month ago. “If you need someone to support you, you only have to let us know.”
Ted nods slowly and it’s the only agreement she needs from him.
“Pull up your itinerary,” she tells him as she leans across him for his phone and places it in his free hand. She squeezes his hand for a moment and lets it go, getting up to get her iPad from the kitchen before making her way back to the couch.
She finds his flight and there are tickets left because there are always open seats on trips to the States when there are so many per day. She noticed he’s booked economy for his trip. She doesn’t think he realizes that they had booked business class for his and Beard’s original trip over from Kansas. She makes some amendments as she books her trip. Books a second trip for him under her global entry identification that allows priority access through security checkpoints and customs. Tells him aloud of the rookie mistake and lets him know it’s easier to book under her itinerary rather than edit his own. And she’ll spring for the first-class tickets for the both of them and give him a reduced price when he asks how much to pay her back.
He deflects, telling her that his knees will thank her later.
She gives him a soft but sad smile as he huffs and a tendril of hair escapes when he’s run his hand through his hair too many times before she distracts him by unmuting Bake Off and telling him it's all done and paid for.
If Ted happens to fall asleep while they watch more Bake Off after she’s booked herself and rebooked him on the flight and after he cancels his original ticket, she doesn’t mind draping the throw blanket over his form and leaving him a note that if he wakes up in the middle of the night, he’s free to stay in one of the guest bedrooms before she heads to her room.