Sunrise
// Day 0
It's quiet.
Hope gently closes her book, letting out a small sigh of frustration over her lack of concentration. She’s seated comfortably out on the balcony of her hotel room, a blanket draped over her legs and a glass of wine on the table beside her. The temperature is mild, remnants of winter mixed with the warmth of spring, and the skyline before her is nothing less than perfect. There’s really no reason for someone not to be relaxed. Yet, here Hope sits, reading the same page over and over ever since stepping out onto the balcony. She racks her brain for an explanation to her restlessness. She used to love quiet moments like these that allowed her to escape into her own little world.
The quietness of sitting at the back of the bus on game days, silently going over pre-game notes even though she was more than prepared.
The quietness of ordering pizza for dinner and lazily watching a marathon of Netflix documentaries on the couch, in the comfort of her home.
The quietness of walking the pitch alone in an empty stadium, teammates and family just outside the empty stadium anxiously waiting to celebrate, but also giving her as much space as possible on the last day of her career.
The quietness of just being alone.
She used to live for the quiet- for herself.
But there had come a point in her life when the quiet was just a little too quiet. It became the quiet that is eerie, like the calm before a storm. Hope had realized that she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, that there was a hole in her life. There was something missing.
Hope watches the sun go down, illuminating the high rises in front of her. She peruses over the sun and its ability to disappear and reappear in a magnificently strange cycle until a faint vibrating disrupts her thoughts. She looks down at her phone in her lap and upon seeing three goofy faces light up the screen, she smiles; it’s the something that’s missing.
“Hello?” Hope eagerly speaks into the phone.
“Hey!” An excited, but hushed voice responds.
And suddenly, it's loud.
Hope’s smile grows at the sound of Kelley’s voice filling the phone. It’s warm and full of the loud moments she had come to love.
The loudness of a young defender, her laughter so loud that it reaches the back of the bus, despite being a good few rows ahead.
The loudness of that very same defender being late to practice, desperately throwing boxes left and right in search for a pair of shin guards, in the very first home she and a special goalkeeper had bought together.
The loudness of not just one, but two newborns’ cries throughout the night- cries that grew up into footsteps running down the hallway, "Momma! Have you seen my soccer ball?” followed closely by another set of footsteps, “Momma! I finished another book! Can we go to the library again?!”
The loudness of never being alone again.
Now, Hope realizes, she lives for the loud- for her family.
Kelley’s voice continues to fill the phone, “Hey, so I’m sorry for calling later than I said I would. We just got home.”
“No worries, Kell.” Hope assures her before asking, “How are the boys?”
“They’re both out cold, otherwise I’d hand the phone over. They fell asleep on the ride back, thank goodness.”
Hope lets out a soft chuckle and replies, “I thought that might be the reason for you whispering. I can barely make out what you’re saying.”
“Oh right, yea, one sec.” Hope hears a door shut. Kelley’s voice returns to its normal volume, “Sorry about that. I was just double checking that the little dudes were all settled in; you never know with them sometimes. I’m downstairs now. Can you hear me alright?”
“Yeah, that’s better,” Hope replies. “Wow, they must’ve been pretty tired to fall asleep on the ride home. They hate sleeping in the car.”
“They’re exhausted,” Kelley confirms. “A day out on the water will do that to you. I’m pretty tired myself.” Kelley yawns before asking, “So how was your day?”
“Long, but productive, I guess. Let’s just say I’d rather have been at the beach with you guys.” Hope thinks back on the past weekend. She had been in Manhattan for a series of meetings concerning the growth of the NWSL and while she loved having input on the league, she couldn’t wait to return to Kelley and their home in New Jersey.
“Well what time do you get back tomorrow? I think we’re heading back to the shore for a second day,” Kelley informs her. “You would think the kiddos would be exhausted from today alone, but oh no, they begged me to take them back as soon as I told them it was time to head home.”
Hope smirks, “That sounds like something they would do. Why don’t you see what Christie and the girls are up to tomorrow? And Tobin and Press? They love the kiddos.”
“I guess…yeah, I’ll give them a call.” Kelley sighs and laments dramatically, “We’re all getting too old for this, Hope.”
“Relax, Kell. They’re five years old…they have a lot of growing up to do still so you can’t give up now. Brace yourself.”
Hope smiles at the sound of Kelley’s laughter carrying through the phone. They fall into a comfortable silence until Kelley breaks it. Her voice softens, “Hey, you doing okay?”
“Yeah, yeah…of course.” Hope does her best to reassure her wife. She honestly replies, “I just miss you guys.”
“Hope, it’s been two days…and you’re coming home tomorrow.” Kelley reminds her, soft laughter escaping her lips.
Hope knows Kelley’s rolling her eyes on the other end, but she can’t help the overflowing love she has for her family. She sighs, “I know.” Hearing Kelley yawn for a second time, she tells her, “I better let you go…you sound tired. Get some rest, okay? And hopefully the drive home tomorrow won’t be too terrible and I’ll make it in time to join you out at the beach.”
“Yeah, give me a call when you start heading our way. I love you.”
After all these years, Hope’s breath still hitches in return as she barely murmurs out, “I love you too.”
Just before the connection is lost, Kelley quickly stops her, “Oh, and Hope?”
“Yeah?”
“We miss you too.”
As Hope puts her phone back into lap, she feels herself float to cloud nine and isn’t quite sure if she’ll ever be able to wipe the smile off her face. As her heart rate slows down to its normal pace, Hope is surrounded by the quiet once again and realizes she much prefers the loud. She sighs, convincing herself to head to bed as it wouldn’t do her any good to try and read again. As she slides the door shut, she can’t help but notice dark, grey clouds filling the sky. Though the darkness bothers her for a moment, Hope remembers the sun and its warmth just around the corner.
But maybe Hope should’ve paid a little more attention to the darkness and the way it made her feel; as if it were a warning for the very next day, when her life takes a turn and veers off the well paved path.
When she gets the phone call.
When she sees and hears a multitude of sirens, burning and screaming red.
When she rushes through sliding glass doors into a room of commotion, of complete chaos.
When she surveys a mass of strangers, some in despair and some in a frantic hurry because life depends on time.
When she realizes how loud it is.
A little too loud.