Page 29 of We'll Meet Again

“Yeah, I’ve never liked the cold, even as a boy,” Ethan told him. “But it’s not too bad. I tell you, playing in Canada was the worst, but luckily, I’d only ever be there a couple of days for a match.”

“Ted mentioned you growing up in the South, and I’d like to get into that a bit,” Kiera said. “As much as we love football, we’re more interested in you as a person.”

Ethan swallowed hard. “Alright.”

“You grew up in North Carolina, right?” she pressed. “Just outside of Charlotte?”

“Yes, ma’am, in a little suburb called Huntersville,” he told her. “Most people haven’t heard of it, so I generally just tell people I’m from Charlotte.”

“Is your family still there?” she continued.

“Well…” he trailed off, wondering how much to reveal. “Carolina Beach, now.”

“And who’s there?” Ted went on. “Your parents? Siblings?”

“My grandmother,” Ethan answered. “No siblings, I’m afraid.”

“Well, what about your parents?” Kiera said. “Are they happy for you or sad that you’re so far away?”

His chest felt like a boa constrictor had wrapped around it. How had this interview gotten this personal already? He hated talking about this. Why couldn’t they just ask him about football? This was too much. Everything he kept locked away and for good reason was getting dragged forward, and he couldn’t seem to stop it.

“My father has never been in my life,” he said, keeping it intentionally vague. No need to tell them he had no idea who the man was. “And my mother passed away when I was ten.”

The hosts both blinked back at him, a stiff silence coming over the studio. This was exactly why he didn’t talk about this stuff. Everyone drew back like he’d shouted an expletive in a room full of children. This was clearly not the show where people talked about tragedy, especially not the kind Ethan had been through. So he spared them the details and kept his mouth shut until they spoke again.

“That’s…quite…gosh, I’m sorry,” Kiera finally said, picking at an imaginary loose thread on her skirt. “That had to be difficult growing up.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Ethan said.

“So, was it your grandmother who raised you, then?” Ted asked.

This, Ethan could talk about. He would proudly sing Betty’s praises for the rest of his days. That woman had saved his life, in more ways than one.

“Yeah, she did,” he said. “After my mother passed, it was just me and my grandma. Her name’s Betty - Betty Knight - and she’s the finest person I know. I miss her like crazy, but I know she’s proud of me.”

He was thankful now more than ever that she had actually told him so at the airport before he left. Otherwise, he might not have been so confident in the statement now.

“Did she always support you playing football?” Ted asked.

“She’s the one who got me into it in the first place,” Ethan said. “Before my mother died, even, my grandma put up the money to get me into a soccer program, and I had a great coach who really believed in me. And my love of the sport got me through a lot of my…grief.”

He always struggled with that last word, but his therapist had assured him grief didn’t just mean sadness. It covered the whole range of emotion he’d felt since his mother’s passing - depression, confusion, rage, all of it. And while he had healed for the most part, some wounds never went away. Same as the scar on his abdomen, it would remain a permanent fixture.

When it was clear he was not going to elaborate any further on his childhood, thankfully, the hosts talked to him about other things - his hobbies outside of football, which he always answered with movies, and that was the truth. He loved a good film, or even a bad one if it was enjoyable, so they had plenty to discuss there until they went to commercial.

During the commercial break, the crew set up a small soccer goal on the stage and brought out five balls. When the show came back, the hosts explained that for each goal he got, the show would donate five hundred pounds to a children’s hospital. Happy to oblige for that, Ethan chipped every one of them into the goal, making a point to celebrate each one in case any of those kids had the television on that morning. Just when he was thinking a TV interview wasn’t so bad, the mood shifted again.

“Just one more thing to indulge us,” Kiera said as they took their seats again. From the table beside her, she picked up a book. It didn’t look fancy, it was a simple mass market paperback, but Ethan was suddenly anxious. “This is Shakespeare’sA Midsummer Night’s Dream. Could you read some for us?”

She held it out to him, but he didn’t take it. Instead, his eyes just flickered between the book and her face. What was she getting at?

“Why?” he asked.

“To hear it in your accent,” she explained. “Just for a laugh.”

Ethan stiffened. It was as if a red hot iron clamp pressed into his heart. His jaw tightened and he had to take a breath. “I didn’t come here to be laughed at.”

Keira only just now seemed to pick up on his discomfort. “I only meant -”