told him anyway. “I wanted to do the extra schooling to be a nurse practitioner, so I could prescribe, could diagnose. It’s a big ask, though. Master’s degree, when I scraped my way through high school and University as it was. All that science and maths, when I had to do so much work just to get to the starting gate.”
“But you did it,” he said. “While you worked as a cleaner. Which means you can do it again. How much sleep were you getting back then?”
“Not much,” I said. “And—here we go, then. I’d like to buy a house as well. One with an ensuite bath. Don’t laugh. That’s a big one. Don’t ask me why.”
“And now you can’t do those things,” he said, “or you can’t do them yet, because of the girls.”
“It’s a delay, that’s all,” I said. “Someday, eh. How about you? What do you want? What are your dreams? Though you’ve probably already done them.”
Our bodies moved in rhythm. Working hard, and hardly working, because our hearts and lungs and legs were used to it, and they knew what they were doing. Breathing hard, but breathing hard was good for you. Filling your lungs with sea air, your feet hitting the sand and rebounding again, your thighs and calves and glutes helping you push off. Feeling here. Feeling strong. Feeling alive.
Gray said, “I see what you’re doing, you know. Turning the conversation from you to me. But I’ll answer you, because it can be tough to shine the light that deep inside. What do I want? To have the firm do well. To keep all those fellas in work, keep them bringing their pay packets home. To see them able to start families, buy houses. And to build things that last. To drive past a place and know that was mine. My effort, and my result. Makes me feel good, building something that lasts. Not a bad way to spend a life.”
“Not rugby, then,” I said.
“Not anymore,” he said. “I’ve cried those tears. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what the challenge is. It just matters that there is one.”
I didn’t want to ask this. I needed to. “And all the TBIs? Is that all good, then?”
More silence, except for the murmur of the sea, the slap-thud of our shoes, then: “I don’t know. I won’t know. Nobody will. Not unless there’s an autopsy.”
“If you hurt somebody, you mean,” I said. “If you develop dementia.”
“Well, yeh,” he said. “If you want to put it out there.”
“That’s something to be living with,” I said. “CTE.”
“You think?” he said. “Life is uncertainty. If you don’t accept that, you’ll never be a sportsman. We think we can have control. We can’t. We can influence the odds, and that’s it.”
“The reason it’s so hard on people,” I said, “when they have an accident, or when they’re diagnosed with something awful. When they realize for the first time that it’s true. That any time could be the last time.”
“Reckon you do know,” he said.
“Reckon I do. This woman last night …” I hesitated.
“Yeh?” he asked.
“When they lose a baby,” I said. “When they lose the dream. When you’re holding her hand, and her partner’s crying. When they both realize they can’t count on it happening, no matter how much they want it. And when they go ahead anyway and try again. Daring to hope that this time, it’ll work.”
“That’s it,” he said. “When you try again. That’s the hard part. That’s where the strength comes in.”
“So,” I said. “I shouldn’t be so scared that I’ll disappoint you, if we go out. That I’ll disappoint myself. I should try again. Right. Fair point.”
“How are you going to do that?” he asked. “Disappoint me?”
Was he trying to be obtuse? To make me spell it out? Of course, I’d made him spell out the potential for dementia and rage that he was living with, so I couldn’t really complain. Besides, you didn’t get over an obstacle by going backward. You got over it by going forward.
“I should think it’s pretty obvious,” I said. “I may have mentioned it, oh, about six times so far. Which is six more times than I’ve told anybody else, so you know. I always just … try. Until I can’t anymore. So I don’t know about the wine and candlelight. Your efforts could be wasted. Also your money. Just saying.”
He sighed, and sounded much too patient when he said, “Did I ask you to go to a strip club with