If there’s one thing you need to know about male professional athletes, it is that they love to act like teenage boys. Unfaithfulness, recklessness…the list went on. And my dad, despite the great man that he was, fell directly into those categories. I loved him, but his actions uprooted both of our lives. He was the reason my mom wasn’t around anymore, thereason I didn’t drink alcohol, and the reason I would never,everget married.
But I had learned from his mistakes. And I was happy, really. I was working for my dad, working toward my goals. Life was good.
“Maggie? That you?” my dad’s voice traveled across the house from the kitchen. I shut the front door and kicked off my old canvas slip-ons. The sound of grease crackling in a pan and a familiar scent meant only one thing: bacon for dinner. Again.
“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m back. Bacon again?”
“Mags,” he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek on his way to the sink. “How’s Fiona?”
He began to wash his hands, and I reached for two plates from the cabinet.
“She’s improved. It should only be a couple of days until her cut is better and the swelling is gone. You should be able to play her for Saturday’s practice.” It was a good thing I actually checked on her before meeting up with Jack. She was one of my dad’s best horses, but also one of the clumsiest, always getting hurt or coming up lame.
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to play for me on Saturday. You can have the string,” he suggested. “I’ll even groom for you.”
“Wow…really? Don’t you want to prep for the Silver Cup tournament?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dad waved a hand. “I want to help you achieve your goals, and you won’t go far working and living with me for the rest of your life. You’ve got big things to do.”
I smiled at his sincerity. While my dad had wrecked his relationship with my mom, he always put me first and did whatever he thought would make me happy. If that meant selling our farm and moving to New York City in a cramped apartment with no animals, he would do it. Maybe he wasn’ta great husband, or ex-husband, or really anything that had to do with staying put in a romantic relationship, but he loved me unconditionally.
“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”
His crinkled eyes smiled back at me, and his smoker’s lips curved upward. “But I was also thinking,” he cleared his throat, telling me he was moving on to a more serious topic. “Maybe you should move up a little bit.”
I raised my brows in question.
“I mean, you working for me has been great, and you know I’ll continue to support you to no end. But Mags, I don’t have a string for you,” he said. “I can’t afford the horses.” He looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. He thought he was letting me down, but I knew the ten to twelve horses it took to play as a full-time player were more than we could manage. “I’ve already taught you everything I know, but the cost to get you higher than you are…you’re already at a two-goal handicap. You have so much room to grow.”
The handicap scale of polo players went from a negative one, being the lowest, to ten, being the highest rating. Granted, there were only about a dozen ten-goal players in the world, so I was impressive to the average outsider, being twenty-two years old and a two-goal player.
“I want you to work for Hennicke.” His tone was drab, but he was definitely not joking.
“Jack?” I asked in disbelief. “Or his dad?”
“Yeah, Jack. Obviously, you know the Hennickes are better off than we are. Lenz has been invaluable in getting his son into high-goal polo, and he adores you. He sees your potential, and working for Jack will get you into the right place.”
“Dad, I’m twenty-two. I can make my own decisions, I don’t need to work for the Hennickes to move up in the polo world.”
“I know that, Mags, I do. But I can’t afford to buy more horses than I already have. You’ve been out of college for a couple of months and did amazing on your intercollegiate team, but you can’t keep working for me the rest of your life. I want more for you, and I am trying to take the steps to help you move up in your career.” My dad looked exhausted. There was no need to argue, but I was scared to leave him alone, and I especially didn’t want to work forJack.I was a two-goal player with plenty of connections.
“Dad, I am grateful for everything you do for me, truly. I completely understand that you can’t buy me a whole string of polo horses—I would never expect that. You need to keep your string for yourself to play for your patrons. I’m going to make my way. I’m not going to stop grooming for you just to do the same thing for someone else.”
My goal of becoming a renowned player required expensive startup costs. To be a professional polo player, you needed at least seven well-trained horses—and unless you were spending years training them yourself, that could mean spending up to fifty thousand dollars on a singular polo pony. I knew my dad didn’t have the financial resources to support that, but I was capable of creating my own path. I was already networking and coordinating with players in our home state of Pennsylvania, all the way down to Wellington, Florida, a lucrative polo location in the winter months. Female polo was huge there.
If I could secure sponsors there for the winter, I would be set.
“I already talked to Lenz. He said Jack would appreciate his own groom instead of having to coordinate with his dad’s.”
“You’re setting up jobs for me? Do you want me to leave that badly?”
Dad’s face softened. “Maggie…you know I don’t want you to leave. You can still live here with me. You just have to get out ofthis hole. The longer you stay with me, the more likely your life will turn out like mine.”
Shit.I wasn’t sure if he was pulling the victim card or if this is how he really felt. If it was the latter, he had a solid reason to think as such. Sure, he was a professional player with wealthy patrons who paid him well, but he was also an alcoholic whose wife left him for infidelity to raise his daughter on his own. It was hard not to feel secondhand remorse for the repercussions of his decisions, and that made me want to stay as his groom for a little while longer. Plus, he was nearing his fifties. He likely wouldn’t be playing the level of polo he was now in ten years.
“Dad,” I pulled him in for a hug. “You deserve to be happy. There’s nothing in this world stopping you from chasing that goal.”
“I know.” He sighed. “But seeing Jack playing out there today…it made me want to get you out there and have as many opportunities as he has. The Hennickes can give you that.”
