When Mom first passed, I took bereavement, not because I wanted to but because everyone insisted. So, I did, and as the days meshed into weeks then months, I realized I didn’t want to continue swimming.
Everyone was shocked, including myself, because swimming was my life’s purpose. But once I stopped, the purpose along with my will to live, died.
I offer a small smile in return and hope to God, she can’t see how fake it really is.
“Come on in.” She jerks her head for me to step into her office as she retreats.
I follow and take a seat on the chair in front of her desk as she takes her own behind it.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” she solemnly says, her smile dimming into something sympathetic. It feels sincere and leaves me feeling stunned. “Claudia was…” She snuffs a laugh, eyesdrifting off to the side as if she were remembering something. “Claudia was one of the best swimmers I had the pleasure of competing against. She will greatly be missed.”
Aside from the massive achievements Monica has acquired over the years not only as an Olympic swimmer but now as a coach, I don’t know much about her. I do know she and Mom were rivals and despised each other, so that’s why it’s shocking to hear this.
But Mom’s been dead long enough for me to know that’s what people say out of respect.
My lips tighten in a flat line, and I stiffly nod, unsure of what to say. Not necessarily because of what she just said but I’ve heard those words, or something along those lines, repeatedly, constantly, endlessly. I wish it would stop.
The condolences, the unwarranted hugs, the letters I refuse to open, and the reminder of how she died. I know how she died. I was the one who had to identify her body at the morgue.
“You didn’t like her,” I bluntly say.
Her chuckle infuses the room with mirth, no malevolence behind it. “I was young and stupid, listening to whatever the media said. But I didn’tnotlike her. I was jealous.”
“Oh…”
“Once again, my apologies for not being able to attend the funeral service. I sent a card and flowers. I had…”
I zone out, thinking back to that day. It doesn’t bother me that she wasn’t there. Matter of fact, I didn’t care who was or wasn’t there, and I can’t remember who was actually present. That day and every day after is a muddled, distant, and blurry memory.
Except not every day, a voice in my head says.
Midnight, Christmas Day, ring a bell?it says after.
“That’s fine,” I reply, registering how quiet it is. “Why is it that you wanted to see me?”
“Thanks again for coming. I know it’s been difficult because of the holidays and everything in between, but I’m glad we’re finally able to meet.”
Truth is, I’d been avoiding her, and I didn’t expect to make it past Christmas.
“Yeah, it’s been busy.”
“Well, I’m glad you found the time to stop by.” She leans forward, lacing her fingers on top of her desk. “I’ll get straight to the point. A position in our support staff has opened up for the student assistant coach. With your years of experience, I thought I’d ask you if you wanted to take the position. You’d be a great asset to our team and?—”
“No.” As rude or abrasive as that single word may come off, I don’t need to be anywhere near the sport that almost led me to end it all. “I’m not suited for the position. It’d be best if?—”
She stares at me, bemused, but smiles nonetheless. “Maybe I came off too forward, but I saw your films and I’m in awe. You’re just as talented and impressive as your mom,” she says, her smile sincere.
My heart skeeters all over the place at that statement. I want to correct her, let her know I’m nothing but a disappointment, a fraud. Claudia Resendiz was a beast in the water, I’ve heard so many people say. I was never going to measure up.
“This is a very coveted position and it comes with a lot of great benefits. I’ve already sent you the email, and I highly suggest you read it over. You’ll be paid for your time, and I promise the pay is great.”
Money is the least of my issues. I have a shit ton of it sitting in my bank account.
“I promise I’m not worth the hire and I’m sure you heard a lot of great things about me from Christian Novak,” I start because there’s no point in holding back.
“He has been dealt with, and that is the reason why I’m here and he’s not,” Monica gravely states. “I’m sorry for cutting you off there, and please don’t be afraid to state your grievances, but I don’t want you to worry. Things are running differently now and will continue to.”
I want to ask what happened because I was sure they’d never get rid of him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked when I found out he’d been replaced. The article never said why, and when he was asked, he said it was time he moved on.
