Open Water Part 3

"I know it's not working, but I don't know what the h.e.l.l the problem is," Ca.s.s gasped out between breaths. The air felt...thicker here. Almost chewable, she thought.

"It's not as if you're not trying hard enough. s.h.i.t, you work harder than the rooks." Sarah, too, was blowing hard from their last workout.

"What's going wrong then?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know." Sarah shook her head and slipped off her red USA Rowing hat. She ran her hands through her short blond hair, pushing it up on end. She reminded Ca.s.s of a rooster, all fire and energy and now, with her hair poking out at odd angles, it was enough to make Ca.s.s giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just tired, I think." This was their fourth run of the day and Ca.s.s was at her limit. The first run had been their first time together on the water, just an easy row down the course to get each other's rhythm. The second run had been for time and for Coach to record it on video to see where they needed work. The run time hadn't been too bad, but it was nowhere near the level they'd need to medal six weeks from now. The last two times down the course, Ca.s.s felt they had just gotten steadily worse.

As the stroke, the rower closest to the back end of the boat-the end farthest from the finish-it was Ca.s.s who called the stroke rate and it fell to her to decide when they made their sprint for the finish, when they stepped up their rate. Except, for some reason, that wasn't working for them. When Ca.s.s had rowed bow, with Sarah calling the rowing rate, their speed had been better, but their timing off. When they'd switched back, as they had for the latest run, the speed was down but the timing better. Ca.s.s pushed herself up and waited as the coach's launch idled closer, its throaty engine coughing as it, too, fought the current. Ca.s.s squinted against the sun and sat up a bit straighter when she noticed that Laura was piloting the shallow-hulled boat.

Laura was silhouetted against the late afternoon sunlight, her auburn hair pulled into a ponytail and threaded through the back of her team cap. A faded Cal-Berkeley T-shirt stretched across her shoulders and chest, and her long, tanned legs disappeared into worn shorts. Ca.s.s caught her breath, surprised again at the tingle that ran through her as she watched Laura deftly maneuver the boat alongside their fragile scull. It was the same brief feeling she'd gotten at the airport three days earlier. As Laura cut back the throttle and checked their position, her eyes caught Ca.s.s's. They held for a moment, and Ca.s.s thought she saw some of her own frustration mirrored there. Ca.s.s shrugged ruefully, letting her disappointment over the latest practice run show through. Laura's response was a brief nod in return, her eyes, shadowed by the brim of her hat, gave nothing away. Her expression was...still.

Sarah lifted an oar up toward Coach Sheila, who caught it and braced herself, using the oar as a bridge between the launch and the sh.e.l.l. Sarah asked the coach, "What do you think?"

"I think it's time to come in and review some tape. Something's off and we have to get it fixed." Sheila frowned and rubbed her forehead. "It's frustrating to watch, you're almost there, but..."

"d.a.m.n...I know. Ca.s.s says so too. We've tried-"

"Flynn needs to sit stern." Laura's voice cut through Sarah's, brusquely interrupting her.

Ca.s.s sat forward, frowning at Laura's abrupt tone. She hated being referred to as simply "Flynn," as if she weren't a person. "We've tried that and it-"

"Not this way." At Sheila's nod, Laura continued. "Switch it up. There's no rule that says stern has to call stroke, it's just tradition. Put Flynn in the stern, but Sarah, you call the rate." She paused and addressed Ca.s.s for the first time, her tone dismissive. Her head tipped forward just enough so the sun illuminated her face and her cool green gaze ran the length of Ca.s.s's injured leg. "Can your leg stand another run at half-speed?"

Ca.s.s bristled at Laura's tone and the implication. She's stunning, but she's a b.i.t.c.h, flashed through Ca.s.s's mind as she jerked upright. Flipping her legs back into the scull, she slid her socks on and her feet back into the shoes. She used the moment to control her temper, but her hands trembled slightly, giving away her anger. I will not pop off. She's a b.i.t.c.h, but I don't have to row with her. "Can your leg handle it?" f.u.c.k you. My leg is great. It's not beautiful, but it works perfectly. Better than perfect. She took a deep breath and glared at Laura. "My name is 'Ca.s.s,' not 'Flynn,' and my leg is fine, thanks." She jerked her head toward Sarah. "We can do another run, full speed, if you want. I'm good to go."

"Fine, whatever." Laura looked again to the coach. "Do you want to do one more run, but with the different setup?"

Ca.s.s watched as the coach looked from her to Laura and then over to Sarah, who was staring at Laura with a puzzled expression. With a last glance at Laura and a shrug in Sarah's direction, the coach shook her head. "I think we're done for the day." Sheila raised her hand against Ca.s.s's protest. "I know you're eager to get it together, but we have six weeks yet. We don't need to burn it all on day one." She gently pushed Sarah's oar away, sending the small scull drifting back. "Meet you on the dock."

Ca.s.s fumed as they slowly rowed back to the magnificent dock the Chinese had built for these Games. The first time she'd seen the facility, she'd felt soothed, almost relaxed. The building seemed to flow with the river, to be a part of it. It blended into its surroundings, almost embraced by the natural bend at the end of the course. Ca.s.s had loved it at first sight. The softly curving roof had settled her, calmed her. But not now.

"What the h.e.l.l is with her?"

"You mean Laura?"

"Yeah." Ca.s.s's strokes were choppy, reflecting her anger and frustration. "Is she an a.s.sistant or something?"

"No. Well, sort of. She wants to coach and really, normally, she's good. Really good. She's the stroke for the eight and Coach relies on her a lot. The a.s.sistants are at the gym with the rookies today, and when they're tied up, Coach uses Laura. Don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually not so...well, rude." Sarah looked over her shoulder at Ca.s.s. "She's not that bad, really. I've known her for, oh, I dunno, maybe ten months or so. Since the Head of the Charles regatta. She's okay, really."

"I just..." Ca.s.s frowned, frustrated. She concentrated on their position in the water for a moment, making sure they were clear of other teams heading in and out of the landing area. "She gets to me, you know? She pretty much ditched me at the airport and hasn't said two polite words to me since."

"She can be a bit...rough is I guess the best way to say it." Sarah shrugged. "She's good though, and that's what counts, right?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what matters." Ca.s.s pushed her reaction to Laura's brusque treatment aside, realizing that fatigue was probably making her overreact. She glanced over her shoulder at the approaching dock. "Easy oar," she said, a signal to Sarah to give a lighter stroke as they neared the floating structure and allow the small craft to continue its forward momentum. Checking her distance again, Ca.s.s called, "Drop," and let her oars rest in the water, slowing the boat. As the bow of the boat pa.s.sed the dock, she continued, "Bow out." In time with her words, she flipped open the oar gate and lifted her dockside oar out of the water. She lifted it high, making sure the blade was well clear of the pilings.

"Stern out." Sarah followed suit.

"Lean away." Both women leaned away from the dock, allowing their dockside oars to hover above it as they floated in. They walked their hands down the teakwood dock planks and slowly brought the stern of the boat around so the scull was parallel to the dock. Ca.s.s remained in the boat and held it steady while Sarah climbed out, flipping her waterside oar gates open as she stepped onto the floating surface. Ca.s.s handed the oars to her and both women quickly and efficiently went through the motions of getting the scull ready to lift out of the water. Jenny Paulson, one of the team's designated riggers, ran down the dock to help.

"Jenn, you help me get the boat out. Ca.s.s, you can grab the oars, okay?"

"I can do it, you know. There's nothing wrong with me." Ca.s.s's sharp reply clearly startled Jenny and Sarah, and both women stared at her in silence. Jenny glanced quickly between the two women, then silently began wiping down the oars, keeping well clear of the other two.

"What the h.e.l.l was that about?" Sarah stepped close to Ca.s.s, her usually friendly face suffused with red, her eyes tense and angry.

"It's my job to get the boat out of the water with you, not hers." Ca.s.s was still smarting from Laura's question about her leg. Her d.a.m.ned leg. What made it worse was the knowledge that if Coach had asked for that last run down the course, Ca.s.s wasn't one hundred percent certain she could have done it, despite saying that she could. That knowledge, added to Laura's tone, pushed Ca.s.s over the edge.

"I know it's your job. It's my job too. I'm tired, you're tired. I figured if we had someone here who wasn't, she could do some of the lifting." Sarah backed up a step, staring at Ca.s.s. She glanced quickly down at Ca.s.s's scarred leg and back up again. "You think it's because you were hurt before? Because of what Laura said earlier?"

"Well, I-"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Laura p.i.s.sed you off and you're mad at me?" Sarah shook her head. "Nice, Ca.s.s. Fine. Jenny, you and superwoman here can lift the d.a.m.ned boat out of the water and I'll take the oars in." Sarah held out her hand for Jenny's towel, her movements jerky and tense.

Jenny moved to the edge of the dock nearest the stern, resting her hands on her knees, waiting for Ca.s.s to give the command to lift the boat.

Ca.s.s scrubbed her face with her hands, frustrated with herself. s.h.i.t. s.h.i.ts.h.i.ts.h.i.ts.h.i.t. Fix this, Ca.s.s, and right now. She stepped forward, her hand halfway to Sarah's shoulder before she let it drop to her side. "Sarah. Stop."

Sarah turned, her eyes still angry, her freckles standing out on her sunburned face. She said nothing, simply stood waiting for Ca.s.s to continue.

"I'm sorry." Ca.s.s slid her team cap off her head, letting her hair fall out of its holder and onto her shoulders. She scratched her head, relieving the itch that always started when she took off her hat. She was stalling and she knew it. "I'm sorry, really. I guess I'm..." She shrugged. "I am a bit sensitive about the leg and yeah, I let Laura get to me just now." Hat back on her head, she lifted her gaze from the dock to Sarah's face. "You haven't asked, n.o.body has. I appreciate that. It took me a long time to get back into shape and I'm there, but sometimes..." She shrugged. "I get tired of feeling like I have to prove something, you know?"

"What the h.e.l.l could you have to prove, Ca.s.s? You're here, in Beijing, getting ready for the Olympics!" Sarah shook her head, her blond ponytail whipping back and forth. "Jeez Ca.s.s, give yourself a bit of a break, okay? And maybe some of the rest of us, too."

Ca.s.s nodded, hoping she'd made it okay for both of them.

Sarah leaned on the oars for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Ca.s.s had opened the topic and if there was any hope of them doing well as a team they had to trust each other. "Will you tell me about it? Sometime?"

"I don't know if I...I don't like to talk about it, really."

"Will you at least tell me if it gives you trouble? I need to know Ca.s.s, just like you need to know when I'm tired, or hurting. We're a team. Okay?"

Nodding slowly, Ca.s.s kept her eyes on Sarah's. There was no judgment there, no pity. Only concern. It's not always about you, Ca.s.s. "Yeah, okay, I get it." She shifted, her back and legs sore from their workout. "So, in the interest of teamwork, I'm going to confess. I hurt like h.e.l.l. Can we go back to your original idea?"

"Sure." A smile lit Sarah's face and she poked Ca.s.s in the shoulder. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Sarah chuckled as Ca.s.s grimaced and moved aside. Together she and Jenny emptied the sh.e.l.l of the water bottles and sweatshirts she and Ca.s.s had used during their training runs.

Ca.s.s stepped aside with the oars, automatically checking the edges of the blades to be sure they hadn't been damaged during their use today. She grabbed the towel Jenny tossed her way and finished the job of wiping down the sixteen-foot shafts and blades. The dock rocked slightly as Sarah and Jenny lifted the light scull out of the water and up over their heads, Sarah's commands audible only to the three of them. Ca.s.s caught Sarah's Gatorade bottle as it dropped out of the overturned craft, stuffing it into the bag she had left on the dock earlier.

Ca.s.s turned as the sound of the coach's launch puttering through the soft current as it drew near the permanent dock farther down the sh.o.r.e caught her attention. She stopped, the sixteen-foot oars balanced on her shoulders, and rested against the dock piling as she watched Laura maneuver the boat into position. Great stroke or not, Laura had a chip on her shoulder and apparently a large one where Ca.s.s was concerned. Whatever's eating her is not my problem. Focus on what you came here to do. She glanced again at Laura as the team's captain secured the launch. The setting sun, already tinged orange by the thickness of the Beijing air, burnished Laura's hair to an enticing, fire-lit auburn and highlighted her tanned physique. The view was...mouth-watering, if you didn't have to think of the personality that went with the body. Too bad. With a small sigh, Ca.s.s shifted the oars slightly and, tightening her grip on her and Sarah's bags, strode up the dock toward the boathouse.

Chapter Ten.

"So, you're the gal who's gonna help my little girl's boat win, eh?" John Sullivan grinned as he shook Ca.s.s's hand. His grip was as solid as he was, his fingers warm and dry as they enveloped Ca.s.s's. He squeezed once, gently, then let go to wrap his arm around Sarah.

"I'll do my best, sir," Ca.s.s answered with a smile.

"Oh, Dad. Cut it out." Sarah nudged her dad's shoulder as she reached out and pulled her partner Pam over. "You're gonna make Pam feel bad."

John immediately moved around Sarah to wrap Pam in a gentle but sincere hug. "C'mon, Sarah, our Pammie knows I love her to bits. Bad luck, this injury." He kept one arm around Pam as he pulled Sarah back to his side. "Couldn't be prouder of my two girls here."

Ca.s.s laughed along with the rest as John steered the large party into the restaurant. He'd swept into the village yesterday, the unspoken leader of the group of parents and family who had traveled to Beijing to support the team. Within hours of his arrival, big John Sullivan had organized a "team and family" dinner at a nearby restaurant and declared the next night a night off for all and sundry. Ca.s.s could see where Sarah got the sparkle in her eyes, though she was certain her teammate's calm demeanor came from her mother. Carol Sullivan was quiet where her husband was loud. She'd come in, quietly following in his wake, and introduced herself, then promptly taken over the organizing duties. She was also, Ca.s.s discovered, a hard woman to say no to.

Ca.s.s's first instinct had been to decline the Sullivans' invitation, not wanting to intrude on any family time. She'd quickly learned, however, that to John Sullivan, "family" was a term for which he had his own definition. Ca.s.s followed the long line of her teammates through the large restaurant and into the back room John had reserved. Carol Sullivan was waving for them to sit where they wished, and Ca.s.s watched, wanting to be careful not to sit between family members. She didn't have any family coming to the Games and she wanted to be sure her teammates got to sit with their loved ones. When the dust settled, she found herself at the far end of a long table. She took one of the last empty seats and settled in, leaning over to hear what Jan, the number seven rower of the long boat, was saying. The noise was too great, and she just waved Jan off with a smile and instead concentrated on her menu.

"Ah, sorry. Are you saving this?"

Ca.s.s looked up to find Laura standing uncertainly behind the only remaining empty chair in the room. She hadn't seen Laura since their encounter on the water yesterday afternoon, and Ca.s.s flashed back suddenly to the embarra.s.sment and anger she'd felt when Laura had eyed her injured leg. She felt her temper rise before she clamped down firmly. Now wasn't the time or place and she struggled to rein in her feelings. Of course the only empty seat in the room is next to me, she seethed.

Something of what she was feeling must have shown on her face, because Laura took a step back and looked around the room for another place. "Never mind, I'll-"

"No." Ca.s.s reached out and pulled the empty chair back in invitation. "No. I'm sorry. Sit here."

"If you're saving it-"

"I'm not." It wouldn't kill her to have Laura sit next to her; it wasn't like she had to make conversation with the woman, after all. Ca.s.s turned back to Jan only to find Jan still engrossed in conversation with her brothers about the events they planned to see. She opened up her menu to distract herself and realized that everything was printed in, as was to be expected, Chinese. Ca.s.s sighed. She glanced at Laura out of the corner of her eye and saw that Laura, too, was sitting and staring uncomprehendingly down at her menu. Not talking with anyone else, not even really listening to the surrounding chatter. Just staring down. Ca.s.s sighed again. This was ridiculous.

"Hey, Laura," Ca.s.s began, determined to make an effort. "I, ah, wanted to say thanks for picking me up at the airport last week." She shrugged. "I know it's a bit late, but-"

"No problem. Coach asked me to." Laura's tone was dismissive.

The silence grew between them and Ca.s.s found herself determined to break it. She was getting nothing but "leave me alone" vibes from this woman, but something in her just wouldn't let it be. She gestured toward the menu. "Got any ideas?"

Laura barely looked up at her. "For what?"

It was like pulling teeth. "Dinner." Ca.s.s wiggled the menu. "Unless you can read Chinese, I'm stumped as to what to order."

Before Laura could speak, John Sullivan stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention for just a moment?" He waited for the general hubbub to die down. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight. I know we're a big crowd in this small room, but we're also a big family, and I wanted to start us all off right." He looked around the room again, his gaze resting for a moment on Sarah and Pam, then on his wife, and finally on Ca.s.s. "We've got some new members of the family to welcome, so don't be shy and make sure you say h.e.l.lo if you don't know someone." He gave Ca.s.s the barest of winks. "I know some of you have family still coming in, so I was thinking we might squeeze in one more of these shindigs just before the regatta, if we can get Coach, here, to agree. Whaddya say?"

Everyone applauded and Sheila stood up to shake John's hand. "Who can say no to Big John, eh?" she asked the room with a forbearing grin.

"Terrific!" John raised his gla.s.s high and offered a brief toast. "To the U.S. Women's Squad. Tear 'em up, girls!"

A chorus of "Hear, hear!" followed his salute and Ca.s.s took a long drink of her ice water, appreciating the cold as it washed down her dry throat.

John waved for attention again, lifting his menu high. "I know this menu is hard to read, so I have some help for us."

At his signal a tall man stepped up beside him and began to explain, by number, each item on the menu, making Ca.s.s's decision for dinner much easier. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh of relief, her shoulder accidentally brushing Laura's. "Oh, sorry."

Laura's voice was pitched low to cut through the noise in the room. "Not a problem." She paused for a long moment and then offered, "Look, I want to apologize for yesterday."

"Why?"

"Why? Because...well, I was rude."

Ca.s.s tipped her head. "Yeah, you were, but...well, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't strike me as the type to realize that."

Laura's tiny smile was so small that Ca.s.s almost missed it. "I had some help."

"Oh."

"Anyway," Laura turned to face Ca.s.s. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

Ca.s.s studied the woman seated next to her. Laura was, for the first time, attempting a civil conversation. As she met Laura's eyes, she felt again that same frission of excitement that she'd felt at the airport and again on the water before...well, before Laura had spoken. She wondered if Laura felt it too. Ca.s.s finally nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it. I...well, I was probably a bit hypersensitive, too, so..." She shrugged. "No hard feelings."

Laura didn't respond, but she didn't entirely shut Ca.s.s out either. She turned back to her menu and Ca.s.s felt there was less tension between them. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Suddenly Ca.s.s was glad that the only empty seat available had been next to hers.

Chapter Eleven.

"Watch that leg extension, Crosby. You don't want to push that knee too hard. We have another week before the heats begin."

Coach Sheila made her way around the gym, speaking to each woman working her sets on the machines. Coming upon Amy, Sheila smiled. Amy did not row, she called the rate of speed and kept the boat on track and in line, all crucial to the success of the crew. Despite not being a rower on her team, Amy could be found wherever the team was, and right now she was spotting Ca.s.s as Ca.s.s lifted weights. Sheila was glad to see Amy had taken Ca.s.s under her wing; she had known pairing them up as roommates would be a good idea. Coming into an established team was hard enough; coming into one just six weeks before the Olympics was darned near impossible.

So far, Ca.s.s's maturity had been a benefit; she'd navigated the tricky "getting to know you" waters well enough, especially considering her rocky start with Laura. The other members of the squad had taken to Ca.s.s readily enough, especially after watching her determined effort to mesh with her doubles partner. Sarah in particular had warmly welcomed Ca.s.s, taking her skill and competence as a sign that her own run of bad luck had changed.

Sheila had been worried about how Sarah would adapt to rowing with someone new. The injured doubles team member, Pam, was not only Sarah's rowing partner, but her girlfriend. It took time to build a rapport between two rowers, to know each other's rhythms. Six weeks wasn't enough time by anyone's stretch of imagination to build a dynamic and functioning team. Sheila watched as Ca.s.s changed weight sets, and opened her mouth to comment, only to stop when she saw Sarah reach over, making an adjustment to Ca.s.s's hand position. As she made a note on her clipboard, Sheila thought again of the injury that had brought Ca.s.s to the team. Gail Kennedy's fall on the team's off day and subsequent rock climbing related muscle tear had killed her boat's chances at a medal, and more importantly to the coach, had shown Sheila that Gail was not committed to the team's success. Ca.s.s, Sheila realized, was an entirely different story. No, she needn't have worried. Sarah and Ca.s.s were blending their styles well and beginning to antic.i.p.ate each other's moves. Three weeks of intense, focused practice together had smoothed out their rough edges, once again giving Sheila hope of the doubles team performing credibly at this regatta.

Sheila watched Ca.s.s finish her set and then set up to spot Amy, Sarah at her side watching them both. Seeing Ca.s.s's eyes follow another rower as she made her way across the room Sheila followed Ca.s.s's gaze and spotted Laura adjusting the settings of the gym's stationary bike. Truth be told, it was Laura who'd found the key to making the combination of Sarah and Ca.s.s work. With Laura as the stroke for the eight and captain of the squad, Sheila relied a great deal on her, and she had not let her down. She worked incredibly hard, was focused and was in top shape.

As if she knew Sheila was thinking of her, Laura glanced up and caught her eye. She gave the coach a brief nod and, barely sparing a glance around the gym for the rest of her team, continued her solo workout.

Of course she's working out alone...I don't think I've ever seen her spend one-on-one time with anyone.

Sheila knew Laura's story; any coach worth her salt knew what made her athletes tick...or not. While she appreciated the work and results she got from Laura's dedication, it would be nice to see her lose a little of her intense focus once in a while. Glancing back at the look on Ca.s.s's face as she distractedly listened to Amy's chatter, Sheila paused. She again followed the line of Ca.s.s's gaze and saw the newest squad member's focus completely on her most reticent team member. Stepping backward, she lifted her clipboard and made a few more notes, all the while watching the one-sided communication before her. Finally, she handed her instructions to an a.s.sistant and left the gym, wondering if Ca.s.s Flynn might not be just what Laura needed to move on.

Chapter Twelve.