To Hell in a Coach Bag

by M. J. Schiller

  I hesitated just to watch the sweat bead on his forehead.

  "Where are we going?" I'd asked with a smile.

  He'd finally asked me. After I hoped and prayed for months I wasn't misreading his furtive glances during meetings, or the fact he often happened to be there in the morning to walk me to my classroom.

  He exhaled. "Really?"

  "Really." I smiled even more widely. "I was... uh, having some thoughts along those lines as well, and was actually hoping you might want to... ask me out."

  "And I did," he said, as if making himself clear.

  "Yes, you did."

  And I was utterly in love with him from that moment on. We were married a year later and didn't reach our first anniversary before I lost him forever. I hadn't even considered opening up to anyone in the five years since his death. Still, in fact, wore his ring. Until recently. Until the night of the concert. I jammed my finger playing tennis the night before, and in the morning, my knuckle was so swollen I couldn't get my wedding rings on. Those rings were a symbol of my promise to Darren, and when I looked at myself in the mirror that morning, I decided it must have been a sign. The girls tried for years to get me to date again, and I'd taken a few baby steps, but nothing ever seemed right, before that night. And I couldn't even tell what changed to make me feel that way.

  I glanced at Tucker. He still held my hand and laughed at something Sam said. He teased her back, seeming to fit right into our colony of misfits, his laughter warm and sincere. In some ways, he was like Darren. But in other ways, he was different. He had the same boyish good looks Darren did. But, I had to admit, he bumped the hottie meter up a notch. Darren was the quiet, book-wormy type, which I adored.

  Tucker was built and athletic, which, well, turned me on. Both men, while confident for the most part, had a sort of bumbling quality when it came to women that made them irresistible. It was those smooth as silk come-ons that made me jittery, seeming so practiced and insincere. The way he held my hand now didn't feel like a set-up for some sort of quick slip between the sheets. I didn't feel manipulated or preyed upon. I only hoped my radar wasn't off after so many years of neglect.

  Our progress slowed as we neared the building and people poured into the doors, bottlenecking while they produced their tickets at turnstiles. To my surprise, a duo of familiar voices called my name over the confusion.

  "Hey! What are you doing here?" I hugged Don, Steve, and Amber, both delighted and surprised to see them.

  "Sam invited us."

  "She did? How many tickets do you have, Sam?" I searched around, but my friend had disappeared. "Where'd she go?" I asked Max and Alex.

  Alex shrugged. "She said she'd be back in a minute."

  "Well, I guess we'll have to wait here, then. She has the tickets. At least I hope she has the tickets." Amber cleared her throat and tilted her head in Tucker's direction. "Oh. Tucker, this is my brother, Don. And my sister, Amber. And her husband, Steve. This is Tucker McCord. We met at a Chase Hatton concert. Actually," I cast him a sidelong glance, "he threw us out when we snuck backstage."

  "Okay, wait. My little sister snuck backstage at a rock concert?"

  Sam piped up from behind me, "Twice actually. One time she even scaled a twenty-foot fence, in the rain, in her rock and roll boots. Didn't she tell you?" Don shook his head vehemently, and I noticed Tucker paid close attention.

  "You should have seen her. She was a woman possessed. Before Tucker here threw us out the first time, a security guard stopped us."

  "You mean, you snuck backstage after security was on to you?" Don held his hand out for a high five.

  "Yeah. I wasn't gonna let no copper stop me," I quipped in my best gangster voice.

  Sam rolled her eyes. "Come on, y'all. Grab the little renegade and let's get going." She handed a wad of tickets to the man at the turnstile, and he waved us through, giving her the stubs.

  "I think I see a staircase to the right," I offered when we got inside.

  "Oh, we're not going up." Sam smiled cryptically.

  "We're not?"

  "No. We're going in."

  She handed a set of tickets to an usher and he stood back so we could enter a booth. It was set up differently than the only other stadium box I was in, so it didn't dawn on me at first.

  "How did you score this? Was Bill in on it?"

  "Who's Bill?" Tucker whispered to Alex loud enough for me to hear.

  "Sam's ex. He's a schmuck, but he does take good care of Sam now—"

  "He just couldn't seem to keep his pants zipped when they were married," Max added on his other side.

  "No. Bill had nothing to do with this. A friend arranged it for me." I peered at her. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact. It wasn't unusual for people to give Sam things. In fact, things seemed to fall out of the sky when she was around, doors mysteriously opened. Still, I could tell she was keeping something from me.

  She smiled. "Don't worry about how we got it. Just eat, drink, and be merry."

  I shrugged it off and surveyed my surroundings. A table was spread with hot dogs and pulled-pork, barbecued chicken breasts, brownies, nachos, and just about any other stadium food available. None of us had eaten, so we did as she said and dug into the free food and, yes, draft beer. As we proceeded farther into the room, beyond the big open area where the food was, tiered stadium seats descended to the left and right, with an aisle in between, four, long steps covering the downward slope.

  I glanced up to see Tucker cornered by Don, who seemed to be putting him through the Spanish Inquisition. It was one thing to look like Dad, another to act like he was my father. I tactfully took Tucker's elbow and steered him away while whispering to my brother hoarsely, "Go away." He laughed, but kept an eye on us for the rest of the evening, which annoyed me to no end.

  Tucker and I made our way to the seats in the corner farthest from the door. I peeked over the railing at the heads of the people below. They appeared to blur and refocus. Fear of heights caused my heart rate to accelerate. I took a deep breath, easing into the relative safety of a seat. After a few minutes, Tucker stowed his beer in a holder and turned toward me, laying his hand over the back of my chair.

  "So..." He reached to play with my hair, his green-grey eyes scanning my face. My heart nearly stopped. "Why did you want to get backstage so badly at Chase's concert?"

  I hadn't expected this question and swallowed my beer too hard.

  "I'm a huge fan," I deflected.

  He turned away from me and appeared to be looking over the stadium. Placing both feet on the floor, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He said in a low voice, "I think the term Sam used was a 'woman possessed.' Sounds like more than just a huge fan." He took a long swig of his beer.

  I examined his profile. His jaw was set, body rigid. Was he... jealous? How could I explain to him a silly crush over a rock star? "Uh, well yes, I..." As I tried to come up with an answer, I realized Tucker actually looked a lot like Chase.

  He twisted slightly, his eyes more intense than usual as they examined my face. "What would you have done if I wasn't there to stop you from going backstage?"

  What would I have done?

  I grabbed my program and rolled it up to steady my hands. My gaze flickered everywhere for inspiration to answer him, and that's when I saw him, skating backward with a whistle in his mouth.

  Chapter 21

  Tucker

  I knew I was being unreasonable. In a word, an ass. So she had a thing for Chase. I had a thing for Farrah Fawcett. But that hardly meant I had genuine feelings for her. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with Chase and watching him go from competent third baseman to superstar. I don't know, but the thought of Dani drooling over him set me on edge. Or maybe it was because it brought back bad memories of Gina. Images sprung to my mind of my wife bringing a man back to our home and seducing him in front of my eyes. I was mad then, and I didn't even love Gina. These feelings for Dani came on strong right from the start, so
maybe it wasn't surprising I felt a little... uncomfortable, about the idea of her and Chase.

  I mean, how could I compare with Chase Hatton? Mega rock star. He was wealthy, good-looking, and, to top it off, a nice guy. The bastard. I told myself it wasn't Chase sitting here with this knockout, it was me. But was that only because I was accessible? Heaven knows she didn't have to ditch security guards to see me.

  Sam picked that precise moment to come over, tipsy I think, and sit in the row behind us. She spread her arms around us both. "So how's it going over here?"

  Dani seemed relieved, and then amused. "Oh, Sam... did you happen to see who is reffing the game tonight?"

  "What? Who?" Sam tried to sound too innocent. It didn't fit her.

  "You know damn well who," Dani bopped her on the head with a rolled up program. "Kyle. No wonder you wore the beer sweater."

  "Really?" Sam responded, though she didn't seem that surprised.

  "Who's Kyle?" I interjected.

  "He's a guy we met at a bar after you kicked us out," Dani explained.

  Geez. Another guy. I was becoming more uptight by the second.

  I think Dani read my disgruntled look because she said, "He was totally into Samantha."

  "Yeah." Sam gave her a sloppy smile. "But his friend was totally into you." She stuck her finger on Dani's nose, but seemed to have to concentrate to find it.

  Dani glanced at me and shook her head. "He just wanted to dance."

  "Oh, he wanted to do more than that. Remember? He told you he wanted to take you home and fuck you silly. Me and Kyle practically had to hose you two off when—"

  Dani dropped her program and slapped a hand over Sam's mouth. She scowled, her face turning all sorts of shades of red. "Would you excuse me a minute, Tucker? I have to go talk to my big-mouth friend." Dani climbed over her seat with very little grace and pushed Sam out into the aisle ahead of her.

  "What? What did I do?" Sam stumbled but righted herself.

  "Shut up. You're not helping," Dani hissed. She took Sam outside of the box and I could see her railing on Sam before the door even closed behind them.

  I got up to refill my beer, feeling guilty for having caused more bad blood between the two. But as I waited for my drink, I realized Dani and Sam were still right outside the door, and I could hear every word they said. I was going to walk away, but the bartender was pouring my beer. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I moved away a little, but I could still hear.

  "What the hell are you trying to do? Ruin this for me?"

  "Ruin this?" Sam reached for indignant. "I was the one who invited him here for you."

  "And while I appreciate that, I don't appreciate your bringing up Mr. Handsy. How'd you get drunk this quickly anyway?"

  "I started drinking before we left the hotel."

  "You're kidding me. Well Tucker doesn't need to hear about every old boyfriend, or guy who's tried to pick me up."

  "I don't know what you're getting so upset about."

  "I'm upset because... I like him, Sam. I really do. He's sweet, and fun, and gorgeous, and—"

  Somebody passed through the door, and I had to jump to keep from being seen. Damn. I wanted to hear what else she said about me.

  Again, I caught her voice. "He's the first guy I've liked since Darren. Please don't mess this up for me."

  Darren? Now who is she talking about?

  "Sir? Here's your beer."

  Before I retrieved my drink, Dani barged through the door.

  "Oh. Tucker." She seemed disconcerted, glancing around. "Do you want to go into the next box and talk for a minute? It's empty."

  "Sure." I was touched by what she said about me and felt guilty about making her feel bad earlier. I placed my hand on the small of her back as we made our way to the empty box. She reached back and clasped my hand and took long strides down the steps between the rows of seats. From behind, I took in her lengthy legs ending in black, high-heeled boots, her tight little figure, and the way her hair swayed with her movements. A ripple of desire unexpectedly washed through me. She went to the far corner seats like she had in the first box and sat with her back to the wall. She slid her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. She seemed to be taking a minute to frame what she was about to say. I sat and squared around to face her.

  "Are you sure you don't mind missing some of the game? I mean, we can still watch it..." I got the sense she was stalling.

  "I didn't come here for the game, Dani," I said seriously.

  She smiled at that, but wiggled one of her feet and tugged on the threads surrounding a hole in the knee of her jeans.

  "I wanted you to know, what happened this morning—with Sam—may have given you the wrong impression about me. You know, the phone call and signal and all. It may have given you the idea I condone playing with people's feelings, with men." She gazed into my eyes finally. She shook her head. "But nothing could be further from the truth." She sighed and looked away before continuing. "Sam is a complicated person, but she's a loyal and true friend, and I love her, and... She's been through a lot. And I guess I feel the need to protect her. But that doesn't mean I like what she does."

  I put my hand on her knee. "Dani, I wasn't judging you. I try not to do that as a rule because... I know I've messed up before and made bad choices, so how can I criticize others?" I reached out and ran the backs of my fingers along her face. "I don't think poorly of you."

  "Good." Her shoulders loosened, and she seemed to breathe easier.

  "And it's none of my business what happened between you and any other guy—"

  "No. I want to explain that. I—" She must have caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes because she glared in the direction of the doorway. "Privacy, Don," she growled. She waited to make sure he was gone, then smiled at me. "Sorry. My brother is way overprotective."

  "I don't mind."

  "Okay." She took a deep breath. "What happened that night after I met you was... we ran into a group of Canadian referees at a bar. I danced with one of them to some obscure Chase Hatton songs. I was so excited someone besides me knew them, and I was drinking. Then, things got... cozy."

  That same red-hot anger started to boil inside me. "I don't need to hear about this."

  "You're right, but... The point is, I didn't go home with him because I'm not that kind of girl. In fact, that was the closest I've gotten to someone in the five years since my husband died."

  "Oh, shit, Dani. I'm sorry."

  "No, it's okay..." she responded, but her voice trailed off.

  I took her hand. "That must have been terrible. I'm sorry you had to go through that. What happened?"

  She looked out over the stadium before she said, "It was a... freak accident."

  I rubbed her arm, hoping she would continue, but she closed up. It was like someone pulled the shades down on a window.

  "Anyway," she shook her head. "I did have a crush on Chase Hatton," she smiled, "but I think it was because that was the safest relationship I could create for myself. A fantasy that had no chance of coming true." She popped to her feet. "Well, I wanted you to know I'm not the floozy Sam painted me out to be. It's important to me you know that."

  I stood, too, my hands sliding along her arms. "Dani..."

  She swiveled away abruptly, but tried to recover. "Umm. I need a beer. And if we stay in here much longer, Donny's gonna blow his top." She strode away, leaving me to trail in her wake.

  Chapter 22

  Danielle

  I wanted to talk about it calmly, rationally, but my nerves were shot. I practically ran to the bar for a beer. I didn't want his pity. I just wanted him to understand. Then I felt him behind me. He grasped my upper arms and spoke into my ear.

  "Are you okay?"

  I turned in his arms and was embarrassed that tears filled my eyes. I tried to blink them away. "I j-just want to have fun. Watch the game. It's been a long day."

  "That's fine. We'll just watch the game, then."

  We sat in our seats, b
ut Tucker led this time and took the seat by the wall. We talked about the game, and the muscles in my body relaxed. People stopped by to chat with us, but Sam, thankfully, kept her distance. Tucker put his arm around me, and it was nice, peaceful. At one point, he asked me to put the armrest up so I could scoot closer to him. Eventually, he shifted so he was against the wall more, and I looped my feet over the next armrest and leaned into him. Don gave me a shame-on-you kind of look, that I promptly ignored as Amber gave me a thumbs-up. Tucker's fingers ran up and down my arm and it soothed me. We watched, what turned out to be, a rather uneventful game. In fact, by the end, I'd almost been lulled to sleep, until everyone stood and started gathering their things. As I got to my feet and stretched, my family approached.

  "Nice meeting you, Tucker." Don held out a hand, but his mouth was tight. "Too bad we didn't get a chance to talk more, but Dani hogged you all night." He frowned at me like I was a naughty eight-year-old. So, naturally, I stuck my tongue out at him.

  "Maybe next time," Tucker offered as he shook.

  "Yeah," Don retorted, as if whether or not there'd be a next time was totally in doubt and totally in his hands. Amber gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs.

  "Oww! What's that for?" he asked, but she pushed him up the aisle, looking back at us and shaking her head. I covered my laugh with a hand.

  We all slowly filed up the stairs, but when we got to the top, we turned to see Sam leaning against the railing at the far edge of the box.

  "Coming?" Max prompted.

  "Umm..." Sam looked like she hadn't figured a graceful way to work this part out yet. "Actually... I think I'll catch a cab back."

  Max turned to me for an explanation, perhaps having heard our rather loud discussion earlier. "I think," I said carefully, "Sam has someone to meet here, eh?" I added with a Canadian accent.

  She smiled sheepishly. "Eh."

  "Who could be meeting her in Denver?" Maxine whispered to me as we turned to go.