same feelings with his own teams. “You’ve worked really hard, and so have the boys. They’ll do all right.”
She hadn’t expected that, not from him. “I hope so.”
He nodded toward the television. “Could I see the tape?”
She’d never watched it with anyone outside her own family and teammates. Yet she could think of no way to refuse. Trying to look nonchalant, she pushed the play button on the remote control. She chewed popcorn nervously as the camera zeroed in on the twenty-one-year-old Pam and her competitors warming up just before the run. The announcer’s voice was almost breathy in his excitement, preparing the viewing audience for the actual event.
“You haven’t changed very much,” Patrick commented as he moved closer to her for another handful of popcorn.
“I prefer to think I look older.”
“Not much.” He turned to her. “Prettier, though.”
She felt a flush of pleasure as the gun went off and the women on screen began their run. The action saved her from responding to his compliment.
Silently, Patrick watched the event; saw Pam sprint ahead of her competitors easily and early, and never relinquish her lead. He thought her quite beautiful as she burst across the finish line, a look of giddy triumph on her face. He swung back to her. “Your finest hour, right?”
“So far,” Pam said, feeling a shade embarrassed as she snapped off the cassette.
Patrick stretched his arm along the couch back, studying her. “What could beat winning the gold?”
Setting down the nearly empty bowl, Pam shrugged. “I’ve always thought having a baby would be the ultimate achievement.” She sent him a quick, shy look. “At least for me.”
Her answer surprised him and shifted his opinion of her ever so slightly. Yet seeing her quiet beauty tonight, he had no difficulty thinking of her as very much a woman and not merely a football coach. “Do you have someone special in your life?” He watched her shake her head and wondered why her answer pleased him. “I’m surprised.”
She wouldn’t dwell on the past two empty years. Instead, she’d go way back. “I spent most of my teens and early twenties training, then more years traveling and competing. That kind of commitment takes time and leaves very little energy for building relationships.”
“You’ve never had a serious relationship?”
She was growing annoyed with the slant of their conversation and frowned in his direction. “I didn’t say that. I did have a relationship, but it didn’t last.”
“A fellow athlete?” He no longer asked himself why he wanted to know.
“Yes.”
“Did you break up because he couldn’t handle your success?”
He couldn’t know how far off he was. “No. We broke up because we wanted different things out of life.” Time to shift the focus. “What about you? Mid-thirties and still footloose and fancy-free. How come?”
Leaning back, he gazed toward the empty fireplace. “I came close once, about two years ago.”
“What happened?”
It was what hadn’t happened more than what had. “Kelly was nice enough, worked as a buyer for Gates Department Store in town. We got along quite well. But there just wasn’t enough between us. No fire, no enthusiasm. I think I was considering marriage to please my folks more than to please me.”
Pam nodded, understanding perfectly. Her father had often urged her to think about settling down.
Patrick smiled as he remembered something else. “I did go steady all through high school, with Hayley Ingalls. But after graduation, Hayley left to attend this elitist college out east. That wasn’t my cup of tea. Neither was she, I guess.”
“Another Ingalls. Related to Judson?”
“Yes, his great-niece. Judson’s brother, Herbert, and his family live in Milwaukee. At any rate, since Kelly I haven’t had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. Maybe I’m looking for the kind of woman who doesn’t exist anymore. Someone like my mother. She’s such a terrific lady. Raised four of us, ran the boardinghouse, and she’s been Dr. Phelps’s receptionist for years. Plus she supports my dad in whatever he wants to do.”
“You’re right. They don’t make women like that anymore.” She looked at him and they both laughed. “Actually, my mother was like that, too. She raised three of us, my two brothers and an overactive tomboy like me. And she worked in real estate, yet she was always there for my dad, as well. She died when I was thirteen, and I still miss her.”
“She never got to see you win the gold. What a shame.”
That thought always sobered Pam. It was her one regret about the Olympics, that her mother hadn’t been there to share the joy.
Patrick saw the sadness come and go on her face, and decided to lighten things. “Could I see your medals?” He watched her slowly turn to him, a frown on her face. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m trying to remember where I put them.”
Could she really be as ego-free as she sounded? Patrick wondered as he shook his head.
“Why are you so surprised? Do you think I should display them on the mantel or perhaps hang them around my neck?”
“I probably would.”
“Oh, you would not.” She jumped to her feet. “I remember now. They’re in my sock drawer. I’ll get them.” She was back in a flash and found him as she’d left him, looking toward her rather incredulously. She handed him the two cases.
Patrick flipped open one, then the other. He studied the dull silver medal, then the gleaming gold. Running his thumb over the hard surfaces, he found himself impressed. “Really something. Don’t you think you ought to have them framed and hung on your wall?”
Pam curled up in the corner of the couch, drawing her feet up under her. “Maybe I will one day, when I settle down somewhere permanently. It’s a little ostentatious to display them openly, though, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. I think they should be a source of great pride to you.”
“They can be that in my sock drawer as well as on the wall. I know they’re there even if people who come to my home don’t see them.”
He closed the cases and handed them to her. “I suppose so. I just think something so outstanding should be shared.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” she said, knowing full well she wouldn’t.
“I’ll bet the guys on your team would love to see those medals.”
She set the cases on the table. That was the last thing she’d do. “I don’t believe in dwelling too much on the past—or the future. I believe in living for today.”
Patrick
