Several hours later, Bobby Tom stopped his pickup in front of the house where he’d grown up. His T-bird was the only car left in the drive, so he knew Gracie was still there, but the rest of the volunteers must have left for the day to fix dinner for their families. As he looked at the small white bungalow, he had the eerie feeling that time had stopped and he was a kid again. He almost expected to see his dad walking out of the garage with the old red Toro lawn mower, and he blinked his eyes hard. God, he missed his father.
Loneliness curled through him. He felt cut off from everybody important in his life. He and his mother hadn’t done anything more than exchange courtesies since the incident in San Antonio three weeks earlier, and he could barely stand to admit to himself how much he missed Gracie. Not that he didn’t see her during the day when they were shooting, but it wasn’t the same. She treated him as if he were nothing more than her employer, doing whatever he asked and then disappearing, If anybody had told him he’d grow to miss the way she tried to order him around, he would have said they were crazy, but he couldn’t deny the fact that she was leaving a hole in his life.
Still, he’d had to let her know who was boss, and since he was pretty sure she’d gotten the point by now, it was time for the two of them to have a showdown. He intended to tell her in no uncertain terms that the deep freeze was over. She could be damned stubborn, but once he got her to stop talking and start kissing, everything would be all right again. By midnight, she’d be right back in his bed, where she belonged.
As he stepped down from his truck, Suzy pulled into the drive behind him. She gave him a small wave as she got out of her car, then headed around to the rear and opened the trunk. He wandered over as she was about to remove a large cardboard box.
“What’s this?”
“Your old trophies from grade school through high school.”
He took the box from her. “You didn’t carry this down from the attic by yourself, did you?”
“I made several trips.”
“You should have called me.
She shrugged. He saw the shadows under her eyes and noted the faint pallor to her complexion. His mother took such good care of herself that he’d never thought of her as getting older, but this afternoon, she looked every one of her fifty-two years and then some. She also looked deeply unhappy, and he felt guilty knowing that he might very well be the cause of those dark shadows. Gracie’s words came back, making him feel even worse. She’d tried to tell him that his mom needed his support, but he hadn’t listened.
He shifted the carton under his arm and cleared his throat. “Sorry I haven’t been able to spend more time with you lately. We’ve been working about twelve hours a day, and, well, I’ve been busy,” he finished lamely.
She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “I know why you haven’t come by the house, and I’m the one who’s sorry.” Her voice trembled slightly. “It’s my fault. I know it is.
“I’m not going to see him again. I promise you.”
A crushing sense of relief swept over him. Despite the fact that Way Sawyer was the town’s new hero, there was something about the man that Bobby Tom disliked. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “I’m glad.”
“It was— It’s hard to explain.”
“You don’t have to. We’ll just forget about it.”
“Yes. That would probably be best.”
Linking his free arm through hers, he drew her toward the house. “How ’bout I take you and Gracie to dinner tonight? We could go to O’Leary’s.”
“Thanks, but I have a board meeting.”
“You look tired. Maybe you should take it a little easier.”
“I’m fine. I just stayed up too late last night reading.” She walked ahead of him up the concrete steps that led to the small landing. Her hand reached out automatically to turn the knob, but the door was locked. He started to reach around her for the bell only to have his arm freeze in midair as she began frantically twisting the knob.
‘’Dammit!”
“It’s locked,” he said, alarmed by her behavior.
“Answer me!” She pounded her fist against the door, her face crumpling with despair. “Answer me, dammit!”
“Mom?” Apprehension spread through him. He quickly set the box of trophies down.
“Why doesn’t he answer?” she cried, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. “Why isn’t he here for me?”
“Mom?” He tried to pull her into his arms, but she struggled against him. “Mom, it’s okay.”
“I want my husband!”
“I know you do. I know.” He caught her against him. Her shoulders were heaving, and he didn’t know how to help her. He’d thought the pain she’d experienced from his father’s death had eased over the years, but her grief seemed as fresh as the day of his funeral.
Gracie opened the door in response to the pounding, but her smile faded as she saw Suzy’s condition. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“I’m going to take her home,” he said.
“No!” Suzy drew away and dashed at her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I—I apologize to you both. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m so embarrassed.”
“There isn’t any need to be embarrassed. I’m your son.”
Gracie stepped out onto the porch. “Coming here has to dredge up all sorts of painful emotions for you. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t react.”
“Still, that’s no excuse.” She gave them both a weak, unconvincing smile. “I’m all right now—really, I am—but I don’t think I’ll come inside.” She gestured toward the box. “Would you mind putting those trophies on the shelf in the bedroom for me? Bobby Tom can show you where they go.”
“Of course,” Gracie replied.
He took his mother’s arm. “I’m going to drive you home.”
“No!” She backed abruptly away, and to his alarm, she began crying again. “No, you’re not! I want to be alone. I just want everybody to leave me alone!” Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, she fled to her car.
Bobby Tom’s eyes found Gracie’s, and he regarded her helplessly. “I have to make sure she gets there safely. I’ll be back.”
Gracie nodded.
He followed his mother home, feeling shaken to the core by what had just happened. He realized how accustomed he was to thinking of Suzy as merely his mother, not as a human being with a life of her own, and he was ashamed. Why hadn’t he listened to Gracie? Tomorrow he would have the talk with his mother he should have had weeks ago.
He watched her from the curb until she got safely inside, then headed back to the small, white bungalow where he’d grown up. Gracie had left the door unlocked and he found her upstairs in his childhood bedroom. She sat on the edge of the twin bed staring into space with the box of his old trophies at her feet. Seeing Gracie in this room from his past surrounded by so many items from his boyhood sent an eerie prickle along his spine.
The desk in the corner didn’t look much like the one he remembered, but the green gooseneck lamp still held the remnants of the Titans decal he’d stuck to the base so long ago. A peg rack displayed his collection of baseball caps, and his old Evel Knievel poster hung on the wall. Why had his mom held on to that thing? His father had put up the shelving around the window to hold his trophies. The beanbag chair was a duplicate of the original, but the gold bedspread didn’t look at all like the plaid one he’d grown up with.
Gracie lifted her head. “Did she get home all right?”
He nodded.
“What happened?”
He wandered over to the window, pulled back the curtain, and gazed out at the yard. “I can’t believe how big the trees have grown. Everything else seems so much smaller now than it used to.”
Gracie didn’t know why she should feel discouraged by his unwillingness to talk to her; she should have been used to it by now. But she knew the scene with his mother had distressed him and wished they could
discuss it. She got up from the side of the bed and knelt on the carpet to begin removing the old trophies from their newspaper wrapping.
His boots entered her vision as he came to a stop next to her, then sat down on the bed in the spot she had just vacated. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we were talking, and the next minute she was pounding on the front door and crying because my father wasn’t there to answer it.”
She sat back on her heels and looked up at him. “I feel so sorry for her.”
“What could be wrong?”
When she didn’t say anything, he regarded her accusingly. “You think this has something to do with Sawyer and what happened at the restaurant, don’t you? You’re blaming this on me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. I can read your mind.”
“You love your mother. I know you wouldn’t deliberately hurt her.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Sawyer; I’m sure of it. She told me she’s not going to see him anymore.”
Gracie nodded, but made no comment. As much concern as she felt for them both, they’d have to work this out for themselves.
She watched as he gazed around his old bedroom and wasn’t surprised when he switched the subject away from Way Sawyer and his mother.
“This whole birthplace thing gives me the creeps. I don’t know why people think anybody’s going to waste time wandering through this place to see my old football trophies. I guess you know that I’m not happy about your association with it.”
“Somebody had to watch out for your interests. You should see the key chains they’re selling in the gift shop. They show you wearing a Cowboys’ uniform.”
“I never wore a Cowboys’ uniform in my life.”
“The magic of modern photography. The best I could do was get them moved to the back corner, but I had a little better luck with an idea that hit me a few weeks ago.”
“What’s that?”
“The town really needs a senior citizens center, and this afternoon I talked to Terry Jo and Toolee about using the house that way. I’d already spoken to Suzy and she agreed that it would be an ideal spot.”
“A senior citizens center?” He thought it over. “I like that.”
“Enough to come up with the cash to put in a wheelchair ramp and fix up the toilet facilities?”
“Sure.”
Neither of them commented on the fact that Gracie felt perfectly free to ask him for money for others, but still insisted on giving him part of her weekly paycheck, even though the money remained untouched in his desk drawer. She was proud of the fact that, by scrimping on her personal expenses, she would have the black cocktail dress he’d bought her paid off in time to wear it to the welcoming party at the country club the night before the golf tournament.
He got up from the side of the bed and began to pace across the end of the room. “Look, Gracie, I know I might have come on a little strong that night we had our argument, but you’ve got to understand Way Sawyer is a sensitive subject with me.”
She was surprised he’d reopened the subject. “I do understand that.”
“Still, I guess I shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you. You were right about the fact that I need to talk to my mother; I realize that now. I’m going to do it as soon as I can get away tomorrow.”
“Good.” She was grateful that the estrangement between them finally seemed to be over.
“I guess you’ve been right about a lot of things.” Once again he walked over to the window and stared down into the back yard. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “I miss football a lot, Gracie.”
She grew instantly more alert. This was hardly an earthshaking revelation to anyone who knew him, but the fact that Bobby Tom was actually admitting it astonished her. “I know you do.”
“It’s not fucking fair!” As he spun around, his features contorted with emotion. He was so agitated, he didn’t even seem to realize he’d used an obscenity in front of her, something he seldom did with a woman. “One bad hit and I’m out of the game forever! One bad fucking hit! If Jamal had caught me two seconds earlier or two seconds later, it wouldn’t have happened.”
She thought of the videotape and knew she’d never forget the sight of his gracefully extended body taking that damaging tackle.
He regarded her angrily, one hand clenched into a fist at his side. “I had three or four good years left. I was going to use that time to make plans for my retirement, to think about whether I wanted to coach or go into the broadcasting booth. I needed that time to get ready.”
“You’re a quick study,” she said softly. “You can still do those things.”
“But I don’t want to!” The words erupted from him, and she had the uncanny sense that they surprised him far more than they did her. His voice dropped until it was nearly a whisper. “Don’t you understand? I want to play ball.”
She nodded. She did understand.
His lips twisted in an ugly sneer. “I don’t know how you can stand to sit there and listen to me without wanting to throw up. Pretty pathetic, isn’t it, a grown man who’s got the whole world at his feet whining just because life handed him one bad break? I’ve got all the money in the world; I’ve got friends, houses, cars, but here I am feeling sorry for myself because I can’t play ball. If I were you, I’d be laughing half to death right now. If I were you, I’d head right over to the Wagon Wheel and tell everybody how Bobby Tom Denton’s been carrying on like a jerk so they can laugh, too.”
“It doesn’t seem funny to me.”
“Well, it should.” He gave a scornful snort. “You want to hear something really pitiful? I don’t have the slightest idea who I am anymore. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a football player, and now it seems I don’t know how to be anything else.”
She spoke softly. “I think you could be anything you set your mind to.”
“You don’t understand! If I can’t play ball, I don’t want to be part of the game. I can’t work up any enthusiasm for coaching, no matter how hard I try, and I sure as hell don’t want to sit up in some air-conditioned broadcasting booth making wisecracks for the folks at home.”
“You’ve got a lot more talents than just those.”
“I’m a ball player, Gracie! That’s what I’ve always been. That’s who I am.”
“Right now you’re an actor. What about your film career?”
“It’s all right. I wouldn’t even mind making another movie sometime, but no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I know my heart isn’t in it. It seems like play instead of work. And I keep thinking there’s nothing more pathetic in this world than a washed-up jock trying to be a movie star because he can’t do anything else.”
“I met you after your career was over, so I don’t think of you as a jock, washed-up or otherwise. And it’s hard to think of you as a movie star. To be honest, I’ve always regarded you more as a businessman than anything else. You obviously have a talent for making money, and you seem to enjoy doing it.”
“I do enjoy it, but there’s no honor in it for me. Maybe some people can be happy making money just for the sake of keeping score, but I’m not one of them. Life’s got to be about something more than buying bigger toys. I own too many things as it is. I don’t need another house, I don’t want another plane, and buying a few cars here and there doesn’t do much more than eat up my petty cash.”
Under other circumstances, his indignation might have made her smile, but he was too troubled for her to be amused. She thought of the times she’d walked into his office and seen him talking on the phone with his boots propped up on the desk and his Stetson pushed to the back of his head as he discussed the wisdom of investing in a new bond issue or buying pork bellies on the commodities market.
She rose from the floor and walked over to stand beside him. “The fact is, Bobby Tom, you love making money, and there are lots of honorable things you could do with it other than buy bigger toys,
as you put it. I know how much you care about children. Instead of letting women threaten you with paternity suits, why don’t you do something more far-reaching for kids without fathers. Set up scholarship funds or day-care centers; open some food pantries. Or how about upgrading the medical equipment in the pediatric wing of the county hospital you like to visit? There’s a whole world of need out there, and you’re in a unique position to help. Football’s given you a lot. Maybe it’s pay-back time.”
He stared at her, not saying a word.
“I’ve had an idea. I don’t know how you’ll feel about it, but . . . Why don’t you think about setting up a charitable foundation? You could make money for the foundation instead of yourself?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I’m talking about running it as a full-time job, not a rich man’s toy, using your talent for something that will make a difference in people’s lives.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Just think about it.”
“I already have, and it’s crazy, the craziest thing you’ve ever come up with. I’m not some stuffed shirt do-gooder. If I tried to do something like that, people’d laugh so hard they’d be rolling on the floor.” He was so taken aback, he was practically sputtering, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“I don’t think people would be surprised at all. It’s completely in character for you.” She turned her attention back to unpacking the trophies. She’d planted the seeds, but the rest was up to him.
He sat down on the side of the bed and watched her work for several minutes. When he finally spoke, it was obvious by the glitter in his eyes that he had something other than talking about the future on his mind. “I swear, Gracie, you’ve aggravated me so much you almost took my mind off how cute your bottom looks in those jeans.” He removed his cowboy hat and patted the mattress. “Come here, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know if I like that look on your face.” In truth, she liked it very much. Being alone with him in the small room made her realize how long it had been since they’d made love.
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