At that moment, Elise, in the midst of her pre-match warmup, saw us. We both waved at her. The look on her face was indescribable. She was positively glowing.
Elaine mused, "Just look at her. Look at how seeing possibly the two people she cares for more than anyone else in the world, together, rooting her on, is making her feel. That look she just gave us has already made this afternoon here worth it for me."
I turned to her then. "I don't know if I should be included in that select group just yet. She has other family she cares a lot about. She's told me that."
This time Elaine's smile was bigger and less forced. "I'm SURE you belong in that group. Believe me. I've been noticing her lately, the way she acts at home. I can honestly say I've never seen her nearly as happy as she has been the last couple of months. And the season for any one of her sports is usually pretty stressful for her, with all she is balancing. But this season seems like it's been a breeze for her. You have to be one of the big reasons for that."
I just had to ask in response, "So does that mean that you no longer think that I'm a dirty old sexual predator bent on corrupting your precious daughter?"
She gave a lopsided grin to that. "I never thought that, not completely. I knew better than to completely pre-judge you and your motives before I had some data to go on. Our lunch meeting last month went a long way toward backing me down from any feeling like that. And when she made such an impassioned case for being with you, and knowing how mature and level-headed she's always been, well, I couldn't just reject all the evidence in front of me that there must be something honest and genuine there."
I nodded my understanding of her thought process, hoping that if I had ever been in a similar situation with my daughter, I'd have handled it as well.
The match was starting right then, and we turned our attention to the competition down on the court. It was tightly contested from the very beginning. The two sides repeatedly traded leads in the first set. The Zephyr girls were playing as well as I had ever seen, and of course Elise was flying around as she always did, diving, digging, blocking, and spiking for all she was worth. I hadn't thought she could ratchet up her intensity level beyond what I'd previously observed, but, impossibly, she somehow was. The whole team, on this day, was following her lead, too. The entire crowd was into every serve, every return, every point. We and all our fellow Zirconia fans gave a tremendous shout when the Zephyrs finally took the first set, 16-14.
As the teams changed sides for the second set, Elaine got my attention by pointing toward her daughter. "Just look at her in that uniform. So grown-up, so mature, so self-assured. I can't tell you how proud of her I am at this moment."
I turned to face her. "And you should be, Mom. And I want you to make me a promise."
"What, Sandy?"
"Tell her that more. Say it to her face. As often as you possibly can. You can't imagine how much she wants to make you and her father proud of her. How much she wants to hear you tell her that you are. Both of you."
Soberly, she replied, "I promise to do just that. I've been terrible all this time, taking for granted that she was some kind of robot, that she didn't need that affirmation, that she could take care of herself without it. Well, no more, I can assure you." She paused, then added, "At least not from my side. I can't speak for her father. But that's another story I might say something to you about later."
With that, we focused back on the match. Unfortunately, in the next two sets the Zephyrs reverted back to their usual form against the favored Bears, dropping the second 15-7 and then the third 15-8. After that third set was over, the team disconsolately returned to their bench for a small conference with their coach.
***************
Elise
I was angry. This losing to Blanksville twice a year, every year, was getting old. If we didn't come back to win today, not only would I graduate next spring never having beaten them, but I'd also leave Zirconia High without ever having been in the volleyball playoffs. I just knew we could beat these guys. I hoped Coach Nicholson had some inspirational words for us before we played the fourth set.
As we gathered around Coach, I looked up in the stands. Sandy was seated, but next to him my mother was standing up, looking right at me, holding both her fists up in the air and shaking them, sending me a message that she wanted me to fight until the end, and that she had my back.
I saw this, and my emotions, wound tight as they were at that moment, just gave way. I started sniffling, big tears rolling down my cheeks. Coach was just about to launch into what appeared to be some sort of tirade, as if any of those had ever worked in the past, but instead noticed me and snapped, "Madrigal, what's wrong with you?" My teammates turned to look, and their scrutiny of me during this show of weakness overwhelmed me. I could say nothing; I just covered my face with both my hands and shook my head back and forth, uncontrollably.
After a couple of seconds, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Coach. She carefully led me a few feet away, signaled to the official that she wanted to use a time-out, then gently pulled my hands off my face, saying softly, "Talk to me, Elise. What's wrong?" It was the first time she had ever appeared to show compassion to anyone on our team, and it stunned me. Struggling to get the words out, I softly said to her, "It's just that my mother's here to watch me play, for the very first time. No one in my family has ever been to any of my games in any sport, ever. I wanted so much to impress her, make her proud. And now we're losing this match. It just sucks. It all just became overwhelming for a moment there. I'm sorry, Coach. I'll be OK. I know you didn't need this drama now."
Coach moved alongside, placing an arm around me. "Point her out for me, Elise." I did so. Mom was still standing in the top row of the bleachers, concern written all over her face. Sandy was standing next to her now as well, showing much the same expression.
Coach smiled, waving briefly to my mother, then turned back to me, placing a hand on each of my shoulders. "Elise, listen to me carefully. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Don't think I don't notice how you bust it for your team and for me every single day. If everyone on this team had your attitude, Blanksville would be looking up at us in the standings, instead of the other way around."
She hugged me then, saying, "Now I need to talk to the team briefly. Let's go back to the huddle, then let's go win this damned match. Are you going to be OK, able to play?"
"Yes, Coach, absolutely. Let's go," I responded immediately, feeling my resolve returning to me.
Back in the huddle, Coach addressed us. "I've been informed we have at least one parent in the stands who has never seen our team play before. We all owe her, and anyone else here for the first time, our very best effort in the next two sets.
"Look guys, we've won two sets off that team this season," motioning toward the Bears' bench. "We are more than capable of winning two more, right here and now. No reason at all why we can't. We're saving our best for last. Let's show 'em what we're made of. OK, on three. One, two, three, ZEPHYRS!"