to have a home [1/?]
ship: tobin/alex
rating: k (this chapter)
notes: this is the first installment, not sure yet how many there'll be. Tobin's POV is written by me (t0bin-heath on tumblr) and Alex's is written by littlcsmind on tumblr who is fabulous and is my hero. Ya'll should shower her with love because she deserves it.
[this must be what it's like to have a home]
The smell of ‘new car’ has nothing on the smell of ‘new house’. She didn’t remember that about moving in; she’s been living in other people’s houses and apartments for so long. The nomadic life suits her, but she’s older now, and she knows she’s going to run out of money and energy if she doesn’t have somewhere to take a breath. She’s always been her own safe place, but she’s ready to have a real place to call her own. So when Alex brought up this little house in the suburbs of LA, mentioned she couldn’t keep up with it all on her own....how was Tobin going to turn her down?
It’s been years since she’s lived in a house. And it’s not like the house is really any bigger than an apartment, but it has a tiny little yard, all scrubby grass and weeds and potential she wants to fulfill. It has a garage; neither of them has a car. It has a driveway. And a little front porch. And it has two tiny bedrooms, one for each of them, but their kitchen table is in the living area and the bathroom is so small that the two of them standing in it at the same time takes up all the available space.
Tobin loves it.
Alex loves that Tobin loves it. She can see it in the way that Tobin’s face lights up every time they mention anything about the house. It’s a different kind of smile then whenever they talk about anything else different even from when Tobin talks about soccer, or nutmegging someone- different even from when Tobin and Lauren are talking about biblical stories. And whenever someone from the team asks how the house, Alex loves watching the way Tobin flashes her gigantic, white smile. Loves the way that for each subject and for each person, Tobin has a different smile. Each of them unique, special, and all equally genuine.
When Christie asks about the yard, the neighborhood, and other typical motherly questions, Alex likes to watch as Tobin laughs and tells her about how the yard isn’t even big enough for a net, how she wants to cut the grass and plant flowers along the border of the porch. Another smile fills Tobin’s face as the youngest, curly-haired teammate came bounding towards them.
“Toby, mommy said that you and Alice bought a house!” Rylie jumps up and down with an energy that rivals Megan’s. Tobin laughs heartily and pats Rylie on the head.
“Yeah, that’s right! Alex,” she corrected “and I bought a house. Will you come over and see it sometime?” Tobin asks.
“Can I, mommy? Please!” Rylie begs as she tugs at Christie’s jersey. They are all so wrapped up in the energy and the cuteness of the little kid that none of them notice Alex approaching from the distance. Alex finds it funny too that she can sneak up on her friends like she sneaks up on an opponent’s back line. Her presence remains unnoticed until she comes and stands right next to Tobin- throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
“Sure you can come, Rylie. You’re welcome to our house anytime!” Alex says as she releases her grip on Tobin’s opposite shoulder. Our house sounds weird coming from her lips. She never referred to her tiny apartment with her ex as their apartment or their place. It was always his like everything seemed to be since he signed the lease papers, he paid the bills, he made the rules. The idea of our sounded weird as it slipped from between Alex’s lips. But it did not taste strange, nor was it filled with bitter regret. Instead it tasted sweet, like that weird Swedish chocolate Pia always brought them.
Tobin never realized that sharing a house- really sharing a house, not living in someone else’s house- meant sharing so much. She doesn’t mind, of course. Especially because it’s Alex, who somehow manages to make everything fun and new every time they do it. “This is the first time we’re checking our mail,” she’ll announce, or, “this is the first time we’re putting out ant poisoning,” and then those mundane little things just seem so special. Within days the musty ‘new house’ smell is gone and she can tell it’s starting to be a home instead of just a place.
Even if it’s a little small, it’s perfect. Their shoulders bump when they brush their teeth or pass each other in the narrow hallway between their rooms. Sometimes Tobin will stop in that hallway and look up at the miniscule sunroof (why was it even put there? it’s hardly big enough to see the stars through) and one time when she does she sees that Alex has put a post-it-note there that says, “you’re going to hurt your neck”. They set up all sorts of tacit little systems that just work, things like Tobin checks the mail and Alex usually cooks, because Alex usually forgets the mail and Tobin burns everything.
One Sunday Tobin comes back from church and Alex has torn apart the whole house in an attempt to clean. They’ve barely lived there three weeks and Alex is already rearranging things and vacuuming (when did they get a vacuum?) and everything smells like Febreeze. Alex has her back to Tobin, her dorky red headphones on, and is doing some kind of Backstreet Boys / Swiffer remix at the top of her lungs that sends Tobin into hysterics within seconds. Alex doesn’t even notice her until she’s calmed down enough to try to be coherent.
“Alex, what are you doing?” Tobin asks calmly, for the third time. By now, Alex is fumbling with her headphones and trying to turn down the music all without dropping the cleaning supplies and tools she has placed on various parts of her body.
“Uhh... Well, I was trying to move the furniture around. You, fong way or whatever that thing Lori was telling us to do-” Alex tries to explain herself.
“First, it’s feng shui. And second, we have a futon and an end table- how creative can you get here?” Tobin chuckles because in this moment she has never seen something so ridiculous.
“Well, I know but Lori was saying that moving furniture keeps things fresh or something and I was bored and you were off at church or something so I figured, why not. How was it by the way?” Alex inquires.
“How was what?” Tobin’s confused and her eyebrows show it.
“Church.” Alex says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And perhaps it is. Perhaps Tobin was not really paying close attention. Perhaps she was distracted by the sight of Alex dancing around the living room in a sports bra, Tobin’s favorite pair of boxers, and socks that she was pretty sure Alex was wearing to practice yesterday.
“Oh, uhh...” Tobin tries to bring her mind back to her body, “...it was good. The pastor prayed for the team today. He talked about how Lauren and I go there weekly and how we were leaving to go over to Germany soon. He pointed to us and then we all prayed and as we were leaving were heard people saying how they didn’t even know that there was a women’s team.” Tobin sighs.
“They’ll know soon!” Alex cheers. “Can you picture it now?” She begins, dropping all of the supplies to the cracked wooden floor, “Our names, up in lights on the national stage! I think this is our year, Tobs. We’ve all been working so hard. I mean, I know we were last to qualify and the odds are kind of against us but I think we can do it, don’t you?” Alex babbles on and Tobin just kind of shrugs.
“I guess. I mean, if anyone is going to have their name up in lights, it’ll be you.” Tobin smiles eagerly towards Alex.
“I doubt it.” Alex shrugs as she picks up the cleaning supplies, “I’m just a substitute.” Her voice drops when she says it, it softens so much that it is barely a whisper. A big contrast to the sound that Tobin’s bible makes as she drops it to the newly relocated end table.
“You aren’t just a substitute,” Tobin exclaims and refrains from saying that Alex isn’t just an anything. Instead she passionately babbles on about Alex’s skills and potential and how she should never give up on her dreams, because they do happen.