Chapter 3
The two are on the couch, their official lounging spot, Christen on her laptop and Tobin staring at her sketchbook, contemplating putting her pencil to paper. It’s been nearly three weeks since being diagnosed with the virus and, thankfully, not too much has changed. Tobin’s temperature still spikes almost every night and she’s been suffering with headaches and lower fevers daily, usually with her temperature shooting up and hovering around a hundred and two during the evenings or over night. Christen is still running low grade fevers and Tylenol seems to keep them at bay. Both are fatigued, not having energy to much of resume any semblance of their normal off season activities.
Christen has been reading a little , looking over some Re-Inc. business and keeping in touch with Kling about the new drop. She reaches out to Mal, wanting to know how she’s feeling, what’s she’s been doing with her time and how she’s adjusting to living with her boyfriend. She feels this compulsion to check on the young girl, sensing how upset Mal has been with her career with playing time and injuries. It’s natural for her to mother the girl and Mal welcomes it fully. Mal trusts Tobin and Christen and the three have grown very close.
Tobin is still listless, unable to concentrate enough to read for very long, a headache quickly flaring up when she tries. Even watching TV renders her in pain after a couple of hours. She hasn’t worn her contacts in over two weeks now, preferring to wear her glasses. She’s checked in with Mark, her coach from the Thorns and a few of her teammates. Everyone has been very supportive, offering to send food or go shopping for them. They’ve ordered in groceries and Kling and Becky have continued to prepare meals for them.
Both of them have spoken with the US National Team medical team and reported their symptoms. They’ve been reassured they’ll be fine, although both of them remain cautiously optimistic. There’s so much unknown about the virus and it scares them.
A week later, after a phone call with Dr. Brown who reassured her that this was expected with the virus and praying no other symptoms would spring up, Tobin tries to be content with herself. Yet she gets fidgety and bored, searching for something to take mind off how awful she feels. Her fever hasn’t spiked in a couple of days, yet she doesn’t want to get too hopeful yet. Her and Christen don’t allow themselves to lay around in bed or on the couch too much no matter how awful they feel. Both are terrified of developing pneumonia from inactivity so they make sure to change their positions and sit up for a few hours.
This part has to be the worst thing about having COVID-19. The worry of possibly developing more serious symptoms. Tobin tries to keep it from her mind, not allow herself to go to such dark places, thinking of being horribly sick again and possibly dying. She wills herself to stay in a positive mind frame, find something to pass the time and not worry Christen making her think that she’s slowly losing her mind.
She leaves the couch and shuffles to the freezer, thinking ice cream or something cold would taste good right now. She smiles when she find a box of popsicles. They’re some kind of organic fruit smoothie type thing, not the old pure sugar ones that she had as a kid, but she can’t argue these ones taste even better.
“Want one, babe?” she asks, holding up a wrapped dessert for Christen to see.
“Sure,” she replies.
Tobin unwraps them and brings them back to the couch, handing one over to her.
“Thanks,” Christen smiles at her, “this is a nice treat,” she says as she takes her first lick, “I forgot we had them,”
“Yeah, I just saw them,” Tobin nods, licking hers, “I’m kinda hungry,” she states, “and I feel pretty good,”
“Oh, honey,” Christen smiles, “I’m so happy,” she says, running her hand on Tobin’s thigh, “no headache?”
“Not right now,” Tobin smiles, “and it’s been two days. I almost feel normal, except for being so tired.”
Christen hums as she works on her popsicle, “Me too,” she nods, “just so blah,”
“There’s some beef stew that Becky brought over,” Tobin states, “we can have that with the nice bread we got from the store,” Becky and Kling have been angels by bringing over food for them since neither have felt the energy to make an actual meal to eat.
“That sounds good,” Christen agrees, “I just want to get through these emails and then I’ll start,”
“I can start after this,” Tobin offers, “I can handle it,”
Christen eyes her for a moment, “I just don’t want you to overextend yourself,” she cautions.
“I’ll take it easy,” Tobin acknowledges, “baby steps. If it’s too much of doing anything, I’ll sit down,”
Christen nods and turns her attention to her laptop.
Tobin eyes her melting popsicle and the color of the frozen fruit catches her eye. How it is a bold reddish and then fades to a softer color at the end. An idea pops into her mind, imagining how colors blend and fade and what colors represent. “Where’s my phone,” she murmurs, looking around for the device. She reaches for it on the ottoman, licking the juices off her hand and munching on the popsicle. She’s only on her phone for a few minutes, inspired by her quick search and then she’s off the couch, moving to wash her hands with the popsicle stick still in her mouth and grab her sketchbook, the idea taking shape. She lies on the rug in front of the TV, quickly flipping open her book while
Christen watches silently from her spot on the couch. She’s seen this before, not many times, but enough to recognize Tobin’s behavior for what it is. Slowly she reaches for her phone, silently taking a few photos of her wife on the floor. Even if she never shares these pictures, she’ll cherish them. It stirs something deep within Christen to witness Tobin when she gets inspired with something. Megan has called it going to Tobin’s Mind Palace when Tobin gets hit with inspiration and Christen thinks it’s a pretty accurate description. Tobin lets everything around her disappear while she’s in her zone, her only focus being on the task at hand.
The first time Christen witnessed it was years ago when they were at some camp, she thinks it was in Colorado somewhere. She and Tobin were with a group of teammates having coffee. In the distance were the mountains and she noticed how Tobin was staring at them through the window of the coffee shop. Tobin had asked her for a pen and began to sketch on a napkin and Christen had thought nothing of it and went back to talking to the others. After ten minutes of silence from Tobin, she looked over to see her with the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips and her forehead crinkled with concentration as she draws, oblivious to the spirited conversation around her.
A month later, during a lull in their conversation, Christen had asked Tobin if she had painted anything new. Moments later, a new text appeared and Christen was blown away. It was an impressionist painting, hints of the mountain and forest and sky in bright colors and she instantly recognized it as the mountains from that day at the coffee shop. She was incredibly impressed.
Now, being so close to Tobin, knowing her so well, it’s been exciting to see over the years how Tobin’s use of color and her techniques have improved and it’s a privilege to witness those moments when inspiration strikes her. Admittedly Christen doesn’t always understand the themes or designs of some of them until Tobin explains it, but now, the last paintings Tobin’s completed in the las eight months, Christen can really see how things are coming together for her. Christen smiles to herself while she watches Tobin move her pencil across the paper, hoping that this is a sign she’s feeling better.
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“Volemics is scheduled to go to auction in June, right?” Tobin asks suddenly, the breaking the silence that seems to be the norm lately.
Christen looks up and blinks at her, “Yeah,” she says, her eyes flicking down at her laptop screen, “we were thinking June 23,” she pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.
“I just had an idea for the next line,” Tobin says, a small grin on her face. “If we act fast, we could get it out in July,”
Christen sets her laptop on the coffee table and sits up, “I’m all ears,” she states, “or should we unveil this on a call with Pinoe and Kling?”
“Let me give you the basics first,” Tobin nods, “it’s still kind of rough, but I think you’ll get the gist of it.” Tobin turns to face her on the couch, balancing the unopened notebook on her lap. “So, you remember when we were looking at the photo albums and talking about stuff we did as kids?” She questions Christen.
Christen nods, unable to help the smile that spreads across her face. She’s happy that Tobin seems to be feeling better and she’s thrilled to hear the excitement in her voice right now.
“So, I’ve been thinking after we talked,” Tobin continues, “and I wanted to capture like, that feeling like, I used to have as a kid, about how the summer days would like, go on forever,” she looking at her closely as she speaks and Christen nods for her to continue.
“Right, so I wanted to capture that feeling,” she says, “like we talked about. But there’s so much else going on to consider, too,”
“Like what?” Christen inquires.
“Well, we agreed the drop would t-shirts and crop tops, then a second wave of it of a similar type t-shirt and then a muscle tee. Plus, we’re going to add a beach towel and a skateboard. So, whatever the theme is, it’s going to have to carry over to all platforms and make some kind of sense.” She raises a finger, “also, it needs to tie in with Volemics, so the color thing is there.”
“And we agreed it wouldn’t be like a Pride thing,” Christen interjects.
“Exactly,” Tobin nods, “so it left me really struggling for a while,”
“Well, honey,” Christen rubs Tobin’s knee with her sock covered foot, “you’ve been pretty sick,”
“Well, yeah,” Tobin gives her a one shoulder shrug, “but still, like,” she shakes her head, “anyway,” she says, “here’s what I’m thinking.” She says as she opens her notebook.
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Christen wasn’t prepared for how well thought out Tobin’s ideas. She had thought for certain Tobin’s ideas would be scattered since she’s been so sick and they would have to work on developing the theme as a team. But she had it all, from a simplistic idea that stretched out to bring strength and power and could represent everyone. How she had woven something so simple as to be being happy and finding childlike joy into using it as a strength to stand on.
Tobin had a list of re-words, refresh, reformed, renewed, rejoice, responsibility. Then she had a list of other words: societal norms, wellness, self care, thrive, joy, bliss, empower, freedom and spoke about how when people are refreshed and rested they can thrive, feel reformed or renewed, they can rejoice and accept responsibilities. Tobin related how the other words to created this theme of how important personal joy is for people and how it can empower anyone to tackle the world.
Christen felt this may be one of Tobin’s most detailed presentations and here they are just sitting on the couch.
“Babe,” she interrupts, placing a hand on Tobin’s forearm that is holding her notebook, “I don’t mean to stop you,” she says, “but this is just blowing me away,” she shakes her head. “How did you come up with all of this? And when? You’ve been so sick,”
Tobin gives her a tired smile, “You know I was working on it during the tournament,” she deflects, “and things were coming together and then,” she shrugs and downplays her work, “it all just fell into place.”
Christen smiles, “I’m so proud of you,” she inhales deeply, letting the air out with a huge smile on her face, “how are you integrating the colors?”
Tobin’s eyes widen with excitement and she sticks her tongue out and wiggles her head as she flips the next page of her notebook. She shares with her the three shirts with the color designs, then the second drop, the skateboard and the beach towel.
Christen knits her brow as she looks at the back of the first drop shirt, trying to decipher the design. Tobin hands her the notebook and leaves the couch. She returns and hands Christen a popsicle and sits back down.
“What’s this?” Christen questions as she accepts the frozen treat.
Tobin gives her a dazzling smile, “This is it,” she says and takes a lick, “this is everything.”
Christen licks her dessert as she considers what Tobin’s just said. It still doesn’t make sense. “Care to expand on that, hun?”
“Popsicle,” Tobin gives her an amused look, “this is it, right? That simple moment of happiness while you’re sitting in the sun eating a popsicle.” She looks at her carefully, gauging her reaction.
Christen considers it as she works on her popsicle. “Just me and you,” she says slowly as Tobin’s theme begins to click with her.”
“The colors will be the light shades from Proxemics,” Tobin explains, “nothing bright, but like the faded color,” she holds up a finger and sucks on her popsicle, “like this,” she wiggles her eyebrows.
“Ah,” Christen nods and smiles as it all comes together for her, “yeah,” she grins at her, chomping down on the frozen fruit mix.
“And the design is inspired by the different shapes of popsicles, like this,” she shows her some sketches of the beach towel and t-shirt. “Yeah, so people can take it for whatever it means to them,” Tobin picks up again, “like Pinoe said, it won’t specifically be like a pride flag or pride colors, it won’t be rainbow in any way,” she finishes her snack and licks the wooden stick, “but if they interpret it as that, well, that’s cool.”
Christen leans over to look at Tobin’s sketches of the shirts as she finishes her popsicle, “Maybe name the color smears in the box logo flavors,” she murmurs as she looks.
“That’s fantastic!” Tobin bursts, “Babe, that’s perfect!” she leans in and kisses her cheek, “I love it, I think it adds to the whimsy, don’t you?”
Christen smiles, “You said whimsy,” she chuckles, “that’s so cute.”
Tobin beams at her, “Well, you’re so cute,” she chuckles back at her and uses a finger to boop her nose, “just so cute.”
“You know,” Christen says quietly, “I’ve felt like when I put on a Re shirt, it’s like a uniform,” she states, “and I feel empowered wearing it. Like I can face whatever is being throw at me.”
Tobin nods thoughtfully, “Babe, that’s pretty amazing,” she says, looking at her with such love, “you should share that with everyone.”
Christen nods, “I’m waiting for the right time,” she states, “I feel like I’ll know when it’s time.”
Tobin nods, “It kinda ties in with this,” she says, “like, I want people to feel good about themselves and be joyful when they wear this drop,” she thinks for a moment. “Kinda like wearing a suit of armor.”
The two are quiet for a few minutes, both deep in thought.
“Do you think it’s serious enough?” Tobin asks quietly, feeling vulnerable suddenly, “Like, it’s not stupid, is it?”
Christen’s eyes widen hearing that, “Not at all!” she exclaims, “Honey, this is pretty amazing,” she says, shifting even more on the couch, “think of all of the people who are going through major issues, think of kids and adults who are struggling with their identity. A shirt like this, it’s the meaning behind it. That’s what we have to market to them. The message. How wearing this should connect them to when they felt safe and happy, she says passionately, her hands moving wildly as she gesticulates, “how that would allow them to thrive now with whatever it is their facing.”
Tobin looks unconvinced, but she nods slowly.
“Tobin,” Christen says, reaching to take one of her hands with both of hers, “when we brainstorm this, we’re going to come up with such an amazing theme. One that has the potential to seriously make a difference for people. It’s the beginning of April,” she says as she nods, “I really do think this pandemic isn’t going away any time soon. Just reading what’s happening overseas and knowing how our government is going to screwup how to handle this. People will need to feel safe and this message of being joyful and safe and going back to having that sheer happiness, it will be pretty amazing. I can feel it, babe.”
“You know,” Tobin says quietly, so quietly that Christen leans in to hear her, “that first night I had a fever,” she says, her eyes downcast, “I dreamed about playing soccer. It was when Mia retired, along with Julie and Joy.” She looks up at Christen, “In that dream Julie said something,” she quirks her mouth and scratches at her bicep for a moment, "she said to be true to yourself and be certain of the message you want to send out to the world.”
Christen hums as she listens.
“That’s been stuck in my head for weeks,” Tobin shakes her head, “trying to navigate what my message should be.”
“I love that you decided on happiness,” Christen smiles at her, “you’re pretty amazing.”
“Thanks, babe,” Tobin blushes a little and articulate it better than I do,” she grins, “let me do some better sketches and get the colors down and I’ll send it off to Pinoe and Kling and we’ll meet on it.”
“I’ll let them know you’re close and set up a date.” Christen squeezes her hand, “I’m so proud of you.”
“I love you,” Tobin responds, leaning in for a quick kiss.
“I love you, too,” Christen replies, looking at her fondly, “you like tomorrow to meet?”
Tobin yawns, “Yeah, maybe in the later afternoon?” she suggests. “I think I need to nap right now, then I’ll get on it later.
Christen nods, “You should eat something first,”
“Oh, yeah,” Tobin nods, closing her notebook.
Christen stands up and takes a step away from the couch, “Oh,” she stops and turns to look at her, “what are you calling it?”
Tobin smiles widely and holds up the wooden stick, “Popsicle.”
Fini