Susanne Novan - Driven

"And she means everything to me." This was said with a truly loving look toward the ‘she’ in question. A look that was returned with equal emotion. "She’ll be alright."

Siegfried whined, still waiting for his belly rub.

Cat looked at Dylan, a question in her eyes.

"Go ahead," Dylan said, laughing. "He won’t shut up until you do."

Cat approached the dog slowly, squatted down, and began to rub his warm, soft belly, to his extreme delight and appreciative groans.

A moment later, she was almost launched into orbit by the feel of a large, wet, and very cold nose pressing on the inside of her free arm. Brunhilde’s slightly grudging, slightly beseeching gaze caused the laughter to well up again, and Cat gave into it, reaching up and scratching the large dog gently

behind the ears.

"Alright, you two. Enough with the hedonism. Inside."

All thoughts of pleasure forgotten, the two dogs immediately rose to their feet and trotted into the house. Dylan and Cat followed close behind.

"Wow…" was all Cat could say as she entered the grand residence. Huge, airy and open, it was as if someone had stepped into her dreams and brought them to life.

Dylan looked over her shoulder, smiling as she noticed Cat’s rapt wonder. "I’d give you the nickel tour, but we’re running late. Feel free to look around while I scrounge up those damn papers. Be back in a minute."

As Dylan jogged up the stairs, her faithful companions only a step behind, Cat took immediate advantage of the invitation and walked to the first thing that caught her attention: a wall made entirely of glass, which looked out onto the back of the huge, sprawling grounds.

In the foreground, down a slight hill, sat a sparkling, and quite large, in-ground pool which gave the illusion it was being fed from the artfully created waterfall set into the hill. At the base of the waterfall, Cat could see a good-sized Jacuzzi just waiting for some lucky person to immerse herself within its warm, swirling waters.

Behind the pool, brightly lit against the darkening night, was a large, clay floored basketball court.

"So thisis how the other half lives," she said softly, her breath slightly fogging the glass in front of her. "Niiiice."

Turning away from the window, Cat looked over the large living room. Dylan’s tastes apparently ran toward modern. Leather and chrome dominated the

huge, open structure. Tasteful, colorful, and no doubt frightfully expensive pieces of abstract art decorated the otherwise barren walls.

In one corner sat the mother of all entertainment centers. Cat got pleasant chills just looking at it. Part of her, the electronics geek that was all her father, itched to dig in and play, to see just what all that sleek metal and glass and fabric was capable of.

Her fantasies were interrupted at the sound of Dylan’s quiet return. She turned, quite aware of the goofy look on her face. "Quite a place you’ve got here."

Dylan shrugged. "It’ll do." Then she smiled. "Glad you like it."

"Like it? A girl could fall in love here, you know."

Dylan’s eyes sparkled. "She could, could she?"

The change in the tenor of their banter finally penetrated Cat’s hazed mind, and she froze for a moment as the words replayed in her head. Then she

smiled. "Yes. She could."

The two stared at one another, separated only by the silence of emotions a hair away from being revealed.

Dylan’s cell-phone shattered the intensity of the moment into a million shining fragments. "What?" she barked the second the phone was up to her ear.

"Testy, testy!" Manny’s voice was its usual annoyance. "You planning on getting those papers to me before Chanukah, sweetheart, or am I going to have to send the nice Nike people to come down and collect them personally?"

"Call me sweetheart again, Manny, and I’ll break you like the slimy little twig you are."

Cat’s eyes widened, not realizing that this passed for normal banter between the two.

"Ooooo, someone’s got a touch of the PMS, nu?"

"Cut it, Manny. I’m headed out the door now. I’ll be there in ten."

"Ta, sweetheart."

Growling, Dylan snapped the phone closed and shoved it back in its place.

"Everything okay?" Cat asked cautiously.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Dylan forced herself to calm. She smiled. "Never better. Let’s get outta here before my head explodes. Brains are a bitch to get out of leather."

*******

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to ESPN’s annual coverage of the Children’s Cancer Initiative Pro-Am Three on Three tourney. I’m Bob

Haskell, here with my partner Jan Wainright in sunny California to cover what promises to be an interesting and fast-paced weekend of athletic

competition"

"You’re right about that, Bob. Especially after yesterday’s surprise announcement which shocked the sporting world and caused tickets, already going briskly, to completely sell out in just a little over twenty minutes."

"And that surprise, Jan ,is of course the announcement that Dylan Lambert, the Goddess of Women’s Professional Basketball, will be competing in this year’s tournament."

"It certainly surprised me, Bob."

"I’m sure it did, Jan. Now, let’s get to the particulars. Basketball isn’t the only sport being played during this four day event."

"You’re right, Bob. Some of the teams that are competing in the basketball arena are also going to be competing on an entirely different court. Made of sand."

"Yes, two on two beach volleyball will be on the schedule for the first two days of this weekend athletic gala, and we have several interesting matchups to be seen here today."

In the tunnel into the small, but packed, stadium, Dylan was sitting calmly on a stool, adjusting her new knee brace before dropping her lose nylon

windbreaker type pants over it. Crossing her arms over her knee, she watched with amusement as Cat either paced back and forth as if trying to wear a

hole through the cement floor, or jumped in place like a demented kangaroo, swinging her arms in large, looping circles.

"You’ll have had bigger crowds at your high school games," Dylan commented softly as Cat stopped jumping and began pacing again.

"Tell that to my stomach," Cat retorted, reaching the wall and turning to pace again. "It’s got butterflies the size of chickens in there and they’re complaining about the accommodations."

Laughing softly, Dylan stood. Approaching Cat, she gathered her in for a close, warm hug. "It’ll be alright. You’ll see."

Cat burrowed in close, enjoying the scent of Dylan, which was now enhanced by sweet-smelling coconut oil. "Mmm."

Chuckling, Dylan pressed a kiss to the crown of Cat’s head, then released her, smiling down at the younger woman, eyes soft and clear.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the sounds of their opponents approaching. One was immediately recognizable as Lany Simmons, a tall, rather

stocky pro golfer who was known for out hitting the men from their own tees. Her partner was a shorter, spry Olympic miler, Mary Talb. Dylan and Cat

nodded to the women, who nodded back in turn and exited the tunnel into the sunshine beyond.

"Shall we?" Dylan asked.

"Let’s get this over with," Cat grumbled.

The PA speaker came to life, announcing their names. Both women slipped sunglasses over their eyes and stepped into the warm, sunny day.

The crowd was immense, and growing. There wasn’t an inch left in the stands. Fans stood along the sides and back, cheering wildly as they entered the

court. Dylan’s name was chanted with such ecstatic force that Cat feared for a moment that a riot was about to erupt.