Choices: On the Sidelines Novella

by Francine Beaton, Kathy Bosman

Genres: Short Stories; Sports; Romance; Contemporary Romance; 20th Century Romance; second chance; secret baby; marriage and divorce

Synopsis

As a young and hot-headed twenty-two-year-old, Dan Mackay made a choice he regretted ever since. Even though he knew it was wrong, he was too proud, and admittedly, too embarrassed, to admit it then. When he, at last, came to his senses, it was too late.

The past has a nasty habit of catching up on you. Returning to South Africa, Dan learns that the choice he made so long ago had more repercussions than even he thought.

Like Dan, Jess knew it was the biggest mistake letting Dan go, even as he was walking out of the door, but she was too proud to stop him. She would’ve wanted him to choose her, or just give her a choice, but when he didn’t, she let him go.

Will Dan be able to make better choices this time to help mend his relationship with Jess?

Release date: November 2, 2020

Publisher: Francine Beaton

Print pages: 100

Sample

CHAPTER 1

 

 

Dan sank down on the first step next to the Buffaloes training pitch. Sighing, he pushed back against the step above and pulled up his feet to support his elbows on his knees. He bent his head and closed his eyes.

Behind him, the engagement party of his sister, Sarah, to Richie Campbell, was in full swing. Laughter drifted through the open veranda doors.

Until a few seconds ago, he had been part of that party, but he needed a moment to escape all the soppiness and happiness that surrounded him. While he was busy, it had been okay, but now he needed breathing space.

Could he admit that he hated weddings? He hated the happiness and the promises of love and happy-ever-afters when he knew from bitter experience it was an illusion, but then, he could only blame the ending of his marriage to his own bad choices.

He had planned to spend time with Sarah and old friends like Daniel Cooper when he returned for his annual pilgrimage to South Africa on Monday. What he hadn’t expected was to learn he would be an uncle, and the father was Richie Campbell, who’d sat next to him on the plane from Edinburgh.

A voice, sounding young and girlish, interrupted his thoughts, “Are you Dan MacKay?”

 

***

 

The policewoman’s voice droned on, reassuring Jess that they would find Cati, but the words washed over her head.

Jess had no choice but to phone the police when she found out her daughter was missing. She couldn’t believe that Cati disappeared. Where did she go? Although panic tore at her heart, Jess tried to act rational. She searched all the usual places Cati could be, phoning her close friends and even not-so-close friends, but her daughter was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t leave to search for Cati on her own in case her daughter came back and Jess wasn’t here. Her only option had been the police. A ten-year-old girl was a vulnerable target, even if she was as wise and strong-willed as Cati.

The police had arrived ten minutes ago and had taken her through the standard questions. Tired of pacing, Jess plonked down on the couch.

The woman spoke again and Jess lifted her eyes, but the day’s newspaper caught her attention. Her trembling hands crushed the paper as she lifted it up and stared at the photo of three men. Their arms were around each other’s shoulders as they grinned into the camera.

The photo was prominent on the bottom of the front page, announcing that the trio would be at Buffalo Stadium to present a rugby clinic. They, together with other Springboks and international players, would be available for signing autographs afterwards.

Jess recognised the three friends from high school. Carlo Cellini, the Italian captain and The Two Dans: Daniel Cooper, Springbok flanker, and Dan MacKay, the Scottish captain.

Jess closed her eyes as realisation dawned. Her hands shook, and she dropped the paper on the table. The policewoman asked, “Are you okay, Mrs MacKay?”

Jess swallowed the bile and nodded. She cleared her throat and mumbled, “I think I know where she is.”

The policewoman’s face brightened as she gestured to the young constable. He disconnected his call to wait for his supervisor’s instruction. Officer Beukes explained, excited, “Mrs MacKay might know where her daughter is.”

“I think she’s with her father.”

“Do you have an address?” the constable asked, his notebook at the ready.

“He…” Jess started, but then the front door opened.

 

***

 

Something registered, making Dan reluctant to ignore the person who interrupted his solitude. The young girl pronounced his simple surname the Scottish way, not the way most South Africans fumbled with it.

As he opened his eyes, Dan noticed the trainers, pink and decorated with glitter, then the worn denims and T-shirt in the same colour as her shoes. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes fell on the abundance of ginger curls rolling over the girl’s shoulder. Her hair colour looked familiar, even as it clashed with the baby pink of her T-shirt.

Almost too scared to continue his perusal to find out if that initial reaction was justified, Dan lifted his gaze. When he did, he couldn’t breathe. His hands and face felt clammy, his heart rate picked up, pulsing in his throat. He felt dizzy as he took in the girl’s features.

Although he was clueless about young girls, Dan had to judge her not much older than ten. She had a rosebud mouth pulled into an annoyed expression. Tiny freckles spread over her high cheekbones and nose, a cute contrast against the creamy skin.

Her eyes reeled him in. Stormy, defiant, denim-blue with darker rims. Her eyes, combined with hair as fiery and ginger as his own, confirmed his suspicion.

Shock kept Dan rooted to the spot as he stared at her before a myriad of emotions hit him at once. Confusion. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal. They were all there as his muddled brain attempted to make sense of it.

Common sense warned him not to jump to conclusions but he couldn’t help it because, if Dan was right, this little girl, with defiance oozing from her, was his.

She had it all. His eyes. His eyebrows. His hair colour and his temper too as she scowled, hands on hips. “Well, are you?”

Dan nodded. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat, his gaze glued to hers as he managed with the second attempt, “Yes, I’m Dan MacKay. What’s your name?”

“I’m Caitrin Willow Mackay, but everyone calls me Cati.”

The breath Dan had pulled into his lungs vanished. Blood flooded to his brain. It felt as if he wanted to pass out.

The name couldn’t be coincidental. He and Jess had dreamed about a houseful of children and even chose their names: Caitrin or Willow for a girl and Iain or Calum for a boy. Dan could even recall the exact pink notepaper Jess wrote it on.

What did a man say to his daughter, a child he never knew he had? What do you talk about? He didn’t have any experience. The only kids he dealt with were the ones pitch-side and they only wanted to talk rugby. Ten-year-old girls? It didn’t matter if it was his daughter, Dan didn’t have a clue.

He sighed and said to Cati, “I don’t know where to start…”

The girl must have inherited his own lack of humour too as she answered, “My mum says it’s always best to start at the beginning.”

That confirmed her mother’s identity, although her mother could be no one other than Jessica May MacKay. Dan snorted. “That sounds like your mum.”

Cati didn’t reply. She shifted from one foot to the other but kept her eyes on him in silence. Dan pushed his feet back to the ground as he invited Cati to join him. “Come, sit here, then we can talk.”

She didn’t reply, giving Dan the same silent treatment her mother used to give him when he messed up. At least she complied, but with a safe distance between them.

Questions rushed through his mind. What did she think of him? Why was she here? What did she know about him?

Dan didn’t know where to start, but Jess was right. The beginning was the best place, although he didn’t know where that was. Eleven years ago or now?

Still trying to make sense of everything, he asked, “When did you find out about me?”

“I’ve always known who you are.”

Dan hadn’t expected that. He gaped at her, asking, “How? I mean… Has your mum told you about me?”

“Yes,” Cati replied. “I’ve watched your games. I saw you playing at Loftus against the Springboks once.”

Nausea pushed up his throat. He had to swallow hard to not make a fool of himself. Swallowing also suppressed the bubbling anger. It hadn’t been Cati’s fault, but Jess had a lot of explaining to do.

His eyes clouded with confusion. “If you knew about me then, why didn’t you come and meet me.”

Cati clucked her tongue. “How could I? I was only six then. I couldn’t ask Mum.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him as if he was slow as she drawled, “Because she would’ve said no?” Dan could almost hear the ‘duh?’ at the end, but he ignored it.

“Then why now?”

“Because I wanted to meet you, even if you don’t want to. I don’t care if you don’t like me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet you?” Dan didn’t understand any of it.

“You tell me.”

If this wasn’t such a confusing conversation, Dan would’ve admired the sassiness. “I would’ve wanted to meet you,” he insisted, but she looked dubious as she drawled, “You took your time then.”

“I didn’t know about you!” Dan flung his hands in the air in exasperation, willing her to understand his frustration.

If he hadn’t studied her so intently, he would’ve missed the way she pulled up her eyebrows above eyes that flashed with cynicism way beyond her years, but he knew where she got it from. Journalists called that specific gesture the MacKay Mock.

He splayed his hands. “I know that look, but I didn’t know about you. I…” Dan stopped himself and shook his head in silence. This was not Cati’s doing. “Where is your mum?”

The shrug and the guilty expression were a dead giveaway. That was all he needed. “Does she know you are here?” he demanded. His stomach dropped when Cati shook her head. “How did you get here?”

“By bus.”

Dan forced himself to look calm, breathing deep before he asked, “Where do you live?”

“Near Brooklyn Circle,” she mumbled.

He thought back to his student days, when he and Jess often used the bus service, but he couldn’t remember the route. He was certain no buses were going straight from Brooklyn to Groenkloof. Maybe it had changed, but he needed to know and asked, “Did you go into the city centre to change buses?”

The look she gave him could almost kill, the sigh and the shake of her head a sign that she thought he knew nothing. Cati sensed his discomfort, so she explained, talking more than she had since she rocked his world with her appearance. “Of course not. I took the Gautrain bus to Hatfield and then one from there to here. It stops right outside the stadium. The man on the bus helped me.”

Dan hadn’t used the Gautrain bus, but his imagination ran wild. Did she know how dangerous it was for a young girl alone on a public bus? If he felt like this, he could only imagine Jess’s reaction. She might have called the police by now.

Dan stood and pulled out his car keys, grateful he’d only had a few sips of champagne to toast the happy couple.

“Let me take you home. Your mother must be worried.”

Cati refused to move. She lifted her chin and demanded, “What now? Are you going to disappear again? Do you want to know me?”

Underneath all that bravado, Dan sensed the vulnerability and insecurity of the young girl. Instinct made him kneel in front of her and hold her gaze. He vowed, “I want to get to know you, Cati. I want to know everything about you. I will be back and I will stay in touch, I promise.”

“When are you leaving?” she persisted.

“In three weeks. You know about the World Cup?”

When she nodded, Dan explained, “I have to go back to Scotland for our final preparations but I will come back afterwards.”

“Okay then,” she agreed.

Dan stood and stepped back, giving her space to move. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Should he take her hand? He wanted to, but they might not be ready for that step. He turned and walked across the training pitch to where he had parked his car.

At first, Cati kept a distance as they walked in silence. She was, however, closing the gap between them the farther they walked. His heart lurched as he felt her hand touching his, first once, and then again. The third time it happened, she slipped her little fingers against his palm and he closed it to enfold her hand in his.

Dan blinked, his throat thick with emotion. He never thought he would feel like this. He never thought he would hold his daughter’s hand for the first time, and he wanted to cry. The reasons were plenty. They had missed almost ten years of opportunities to get to know each other. Because of stupid choices—mostly his own.

Breathing deep, he regained control as they neared the car. He would need it to face Jess.