Okay, sorry it took me so long, but real life intervened

Okay, sorry it took me so long, but real life intervened. I'm moving to Japan in 37 days and I've got a boat load of stuff to do. Luckily, I've finished this so you guys can enjoy. I know many of you are sad it's over, but try this chapter on for size and notice how it is open to a sequel? Just give me a few months to get settled in Japan and I'll be back to writing for the fandom in no time.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, and obsessing with me. I cherish many of your comments. ;)

Also, if any of you have LiveJournal's, gatorgrrrl and I are going to set up a Bend it Like Beckham community over there. We want fics, graphics, fanvids and just general chattiness about the fandom. I'd like to see it grow a little larger. So, friend me over at LJ for updates on that.

This was ever so kindly and grammatically beta'd by gatorgrrrl.

Chapter 9

The team welcomed Jules back with hugs and cheers. Except me, I kept a fake smile on my face and Jules knew it. I skipped practice the day before, electing instead to come for the match. Coach Reilly took the excuse of my ankle and thought nothing of it.

"Isn't it great, Jess?" Sally asked me while we changed for the match. "With the two of you back together, there's no way we'll lose to Surrey, assuming you don't get ejected again."

"I'll do my best," I said, smiling slightly. "You'll do warm ups today, yeah? I'm taking it easy on the ankle."

"Right," she said, bursting with excitement at our improved chances.

I was the last one left in the locker room. Wrapping my ankle took a little extra time, especially when doing it myself.

"You should let a trainer do that for you," Jules said, walking back in.

"It's no problem," I said coldly. "Best to get out there. You've only had the one practice with the team and the warm ups will do you good."

"I'm sorry, Jess."

She was sorry? I couldn't stomach that she helped put my life in the shambles it was in and I flipped. "For coming back or shagging my boyfriend?"

"Both." She sat down across from me. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I don't want to hear about it. I don't want excuses," I said harshly.

"You can't be upset forever," she said. "Joe loves you, not me. Always has. Don't throw that out because he and I were pissed one night. It was ages ago and you two weren't together. He could be yours now, but maybe you don't want him.

"Maybe you prefer it this way so that your career stays intact and you can live your dream of playing football," Jules' voice raised as she lectured me. "You've been playing a long time. Can't you see you're already living that dream? Don't you have new dreams yet, like being with Joe? Why isn't that a dream you're willing to work for?

"For football you lied to your parents, you were caught over and over again, and you still did it. You missed half your sister's bloody wedding. You flew to America when you had never been away from your family longer than a weekend. Why isn't your relationship with Joe worth that kind of pursuit? It should be worth that. You are lucky to have him -- someone who knows you and loves you and accepts you. Do for him what you did for football."

Jules words pierced my heart. I recognized the truth in them and wished I could talk to Joe now. Fight for him now. Tell him that I could move on, I could forgive.

"How does it end?" I asked softly. She looked at me, perplexed so I clarified. "What do we do? Our lives are so entangled in the game, the club. Our livelihood depends on our jobs. How do we fix it?"

"I don't know, but you should try. Surely he deserves that."

Before I knew what I was doing I stood and pulled Jules into a hug. "Thank you," I said smiling. "Let's go play some football, yeah?"

Jules and I walked onto the field together, smiling and laughing. I couldn't really talk to Joe before the match, but I tried to smile at him. I wanted him to see I could grow up and move on. He didn't notice, but I needed to focus on the game anyway.

I was so caught up in the events of the last few days, I nearly forgot it was Surrey we were playing. The team with the girl Tony called 'the racist.' The team with the coach that could spill our secret. That is, if I still had a secret relationship to salvage.

Glancing about, I caught sight of Greta, the coach. She just happened to be talking to the girl who had it in for me. Fantastic. Maybe they were conspiring.

As warm-ups finished, we headed in so that Joe could give marching orders. I tried again to give him a sign that I wanted to move past everything, but there is only so much you can do when surrounded by twenty sweaty girls. I was hurt that he didn't even look at me.

The game was slow to start and my ankle was already bothering me. This wouldn't do. I held back and let the girls take most of the play. As it happened, I ended up with the ball and there was no one to pass it to, so I began to dribble down the pitch looking for an opening.

Out of nowhere, I was knocked to the ground, as if I'd been tackled rugby style. I heard and felt bones crack -- what I assumed were ribs -- as big arms crunched and pushed me to the ground. It must have been my ribs because as I lay on the ground, it became harder to breathe. I didn't even try to get up and my vision started to go blurry from the pain. I heard the official's muffled voice throwing a player out of the game, but what I heard clearly was Joe.

"Give her some room, get a medic!" he shouted frantically. "Bhamra, where does it hurt, what's the matter?"

I tried to speak, but trying to push air out and speak was excruciating. "Jesus, Jess..." Joe's voice was strained and through the haze of pain my first thought was he still wanted me, my second was that our secret affair was about to become public knowledge.

"Jess…we're gonna get you on a gurney, and then off to hospital for you." He held my hand tight, I vaguely recognized the medics from the team and realized they were here to get me to the hospital, but I didn't feel anything but Joe's hand on mine.

"I've got to…" Joe stopped talking to me and starting talking to someone else. "Mrs. Bhamra, go with her to the hospital." Joe let go of my hand and my mother's hand replaced his. My mother must have come down from the stands. She would know about Joe and me, too. It's funny the things you think about when you've been hurt badly. Surely, my life could have flashed before my eyes or something, but instead, I worried about my secret love life.

"Ba ba, Jessie, it's going to okay," my mother tried to soothe me, but I wasn't feeling calm.

"Joe…" I managed to rasp out. Everyone would know anyway, might as well ask for what I really wanted. "Joe."

"What is it, love? What do you need?" He bent his head and kissed me softly. "It's going to be alright, I'll come with you." Joe turned and spoke to someone I couldn't see, but I assumed it was one of the assistant coaches. "I've got to go, you've got the team."

The hospital was a blur. I was wheeled in and out of many rooms. I'm sure I had x-rays, and I remember Joe not letting go of me the whole time, but not much else. I fought with my body to keep conscious but it wasn't working. When I thought I'd mastered keeping my eyes open, they would rebel and close again.

When I woke I was in my room at home. My midsection felt as if it was wrapped tightly. My arms felt heavy, but I managed to move one to my stomach. Sure enough, it was wrapped in some sort of medical gauze or tape, or a combination of the two. I couldn't move well enough to do anything, so I just lay still for a while, staring at my ceiling.

A few minutes passed before I realized I wasn't alone in my room. There was light breathing and an occasional sound of movement from my right side. I mustered up the energy to glance that way and found Joe sitting awkwardly in my desk chair, asleep. My door was open, but I couldn't believe that he could convince my mother to let him up here, un-chaperoned, even if I was unconscious.

"Joe," I said. My mouth was dry and my voice surprised me with its hoarse sound.

He woke instantly, his face full of fear and worry. Moving the chair carefully closer to the bed he tried to smile.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said, pushing hair off my forehead. "Does it hurt?"

I shook my head and closed my eyes a minute as he stroked my face. "Can you get me some water?" I asked, opening my eyes.

Joe obliged and had a cup with a straw on my desk. I wanted to drink the whole glass, but my throat wouldn't cooperate.

"My mum let you sit up here?" My voice was working better now and there was no itchiness when I spoke.

"Yeah," he said and chuckled softly. "There were rules, though. The door has to be open, I can't remove my bottom from this chair and if you wake, I'm supposed to get her. You think she'll still want me to get her? It's the middle of the night."

"She'll want you to, but wait a bit, let me get my bearings." I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "What happened?"

"Number eight thought she was playing American football. Since racial insults didn't have their desired effect last season, she moved onto breaking bones." A small humorless laugh escaped his mouth. "She was red carded out of the game, but there won't be any disciplinary action past that, despite my suggestions." He scoffed and continued. "Your ankle is fine, which is good, because you landed oddly on it."

"Ribs…" I started, but Joe interrupted me.

"You broke three ribs, but they'll heal easily." He placed a hand on my right side. "These three, about here." He gently touched my shirt to show which bones. "Doctor says you'll be able to play in about ten weeks, give or take a week. It will hurt for a while, but that's why you've got the pain meds. Are you in any pain now?"

I shook my head. "But it feels tight around my stomach, and I feel like I'm out of breath."

"Doctor said that'll pass in a few days time." He scooted his chair a bit closer and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. "I was so worried."

"I'm so sorry about Jules and the fight…" Joe stopped me, his face brighter.

"Jules already came by and told me about the two of you talking. I'm glad it's worked out. No need to talk about it."

"Do either of us have jobs?" I asked cautiously. His face tensed for a moment, then relaxed just as quickly.

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," I squeaked out. "You just bought a new place and you've bills and…" He cut me off with a gentle hand over my mouth.

"I don't know yet, I'll talk to the club chair tomorrow, I imagine," he said calmly. "Nothing's been decided, or won't be until we both have a chance to talk to him. I forgot the rule about getting you excited; I'm not to do it." He raised his eyebrows and removed his hand from my mouth. "So, now I'll fetch your mum."

My mother brought me broth, even though I said I didn't want it. She fussed over me and checked my bandages. All the while, Joe sat in his chair, just like she demanded.

"Jessie," my mother asked when Joe stepped out for a minute. "How long have you been in love with that boy?"

"Only since I met him, Mum," I said serenely. Must have been the pain medication talking. "But we have been seeing each other since the trip to California. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just…"

"It's okay, dear," my mother broke in. "He's sweet and loves you, I worry and I wish you would have told me." She continued mumbling endearments in Punjabi as she puttered about the room. As Joe came back in, she pushed his chair back to its original position near the desk and gestured for him to sit.

"You won't dye your hair blue, will you?" she asked Joe concerned. I tried to laugh, but it hurt, so I settled for a weak smile. Joe shook his head and looked confused. "Good, I'll check on you in the morning, but go to sleep." She handed Joe a pillow and gave him a stern look, then went back to her room.

"Why does she care about my hair color?"

"It's nothing," I said before yawning. "You'll stay tonight?"

"Yes," he whispered as he pulled my blankets up around me.

I slept most of the next day. But when I woke, there were flowers all around my room. Joe sat in his chair shuffling papers from his play book and crossing things out here and there.

"What time is it?"

"It's after two," he said looking up to smile at me. "Feel rested, ya bum?"

"The flowers?"

"From the team, the club chair, and every relative in the British Isles," he explained. "You do have a lot of family."

I looked around at the arrangements, too many to count, that covered all the surfaces in my room. Bright roses, daffodils, lilies, and poppies lit up my room. Joe pulled a basket off the desk and waved it in front of me.

"These are from me. Do you like them?" he asked unsure.

"They're all beautiful," I said, feeling overwhelmed. "Wait, did you say Mr. Reid sent flowers?"

"Yeah, he wishes you a speedy recovery," Joe said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

"So you've talked to him?" I asked anxiously. "What did he say? Are we sacked? You or me or both or what?"

Now Joe was smiling wide. "I've violated the 'don't get you excited rule' again."

"Stop winding me up and tell me what happened!"

"I see you're feeling better. Well enough to yell at me," Joe teased. I tried to smack him but his chair was too far away.

"We've both got jobs."

"How? We broke the rules. Surely there will be some consequences?" I asked, concerned. It seemed too good to be true.

"Well, I won't be your coach anymore," Joe explained. "And we'll be suspended for twelve weeks. But, that's long enough for you to heal and it's over the break, so it shouldn't be too painful."

"But…" I realized sadly that he would be taking a pay cut and a demotion. "The men's side, of course. I'm sorry."

"It's gonna be rough, but I'll handle it," he said factiously. "He's giving me the head coaching position. Stanley Trump is retiring. I prefer the women, but the men's team is a good way out of our mess."

"Why was he so generous?"

"Mr. Reid said he was counting on this happening." Joe chuckled to himself. "He's offered me positions with the men's side at least once a month for the past two years, but I love this team, so I always turned him down. He said he'd hoped we'd become involved when I brought him the offer for you."

"He planned this? I don't know whether to be offended or to send him flowers." I smiled. "I'm dating the men's side head coach," I said proudly. "That's brilliant. Who'll coach the girls?"

"I get to hire my replacement. You can help me," he said, handing me a few papers. "Here are all the resumes. Surely, someone in here will do a proper job."

We spent the rest of the day watching tapes and reading resumes of the best candidates for the job. My mother interrupted us every so often checking the position of Joe's chair and making sure I drank water and didn't move too much.

"If I have to do this for days on end, I'm going to go crazy," I said to Joe.

"The resumes aren't that bad," Joe said with a smile.

"You know that's not what I meant." I rolled my eyes and handed him the resume I was looking at. "This one could be promising."

"Nah, too cranky," Joe said, turning up his nose.

"You're too picky. There are at least four brilliant candidates here. You've got a new job, no need to worry about us girls. We'll be fine."

"Not likely," he said. "Two of the four you handed me are prats about women and football. I don't even know how they got into the pool." He pulled out two more resumes. "These two are too young, no need for more coach player dating problems." He winked at me. "This one thinks you're cute, so he's out."

"What? Which one?" I tried to grab at the resumes and he pulled them away. "Is there a picture of him?"

"It's a damn good thing I get to pick the replacement. You'd go for the first bloke with an accent, I think," he teased. "You're stuck with me. Really, you think you could find another boyfriend who'd jump through your family's hoops?"

"True," I conceded. "I still can't believe my parents are being so accommodating."

"Well, I asked if I could take you to my new place and believe it or not, they didn't really bite on that."

"No?" I laughed lightly. "Who's going to help you move?"

"A couple of my mates," Joe said. "Hopefully, all my things will make it there in one piece, especially since you won't be able to pack any boxes."

"Joe, you bloody goreh, c'mere." Pinky appeared at my bedroom door.

"Hey, I haven't seen you. Where ya been?" I asked her. She waved and gestured again for Joe to join her in the door way.

I couldn't imagine what they were talking about, but as soon as Joe reached the door he closed it gently behind him. Confused at the action, I tried to come up with logical reasons he could be talking to Pinky. They didn't really get along. What were they doing? Maybe there was a call for him, but he had his mobile with him. Maybe she needed his help for heavy lifting? That was grasping at straws a bit. Surely Teetu would help her with that sort of thing. They must not be telling me everything about my injury. Maybe I wouldn't be back on the pitch in two months time.

At that thought, my heart began to race. It couldn't be that. Joe would have been honest with me, or at least my mother would have been. Why would they lie? But then again, I didn't remember much about the trip to the hospital. Had I blocked it out due to mental anguish?

I desperately fumbled for my chest. Feeling the bandages and checking my arms, and what I could reach with out pain, of the rest of my body. My ankle. Joe had mentioned something about my ankle, I couldn't reach it, but I could move my blanket enough to see it. Just as I pulled my blanket off, the door opened again.

"Jessie!" my mother screeched. "You'll catch a cold that way. Sick people must be covered!" she ordered.

"Mum," I whined, hiding my fear. "I'm not sick. Just hurt, I won't get sick without a blanket. How's my foot look?" I tried to ask nonchalantly.

"Fine, dear, it was hardly hurt in the accident," she soothed. "See?" She pulled the blanket off so I could see my left foot. "No need to worry."

"Where's Pinky?"

"Oh, just downstairs." My mother walked about the bed, fluffing pillows and moving things around needlessly. "She'll be up soon, I expect. I've made biryani. Pinky will bring it up for you."

"I haven't seen Dad, is he okay?" I asked.

"He's been in and out, working long hours this week."

Joe opened the door, bearing a tray of food. "Feeding time at the zoo."

"Thanks," I pulled myself up to rest against the headboard. "Does my ankle look swollen to you?" I asked, concerned. Joe lifted the blanket as my mother huffed about me catching cold.

"What did Pinky want with you?" I asked as he felt around my ankle clinically.

"Nothing. Just another 'hurt her, you die' speech," he said absently as he rubbed the back of my ankle. "It feels fine, looks fine. Does it hurt?"

"No. I just, well, it's nothing, never mind." I brushed it off as hysteria due to pain pills and took my lunch tray. "I'm glad you're here. I mean, I'm glad that we're out in the open," I said lamely.

Joe laughed. "It does feel nice to be out of the shadows, yeah?"

"Refreshing, really. It's weird. My parents are fine, our jobs are secure. It's like a fairy tale ending or something."

"Why an ending? Why not a beginning?" Joe smiled. He chewed on his bottom lip a moment, checking around the room for visitors. Standing from his chair, he leaned down and kissed me. Just one more of those kisses that I would catalogue and remember for a long time.