The Winning Season

by Alison Packard

  The sand, wet and packed, was firm beneath his feet. He’d covered about three miles, but at an easy pace. He wasn’t concerned about getting his cardio in. Today, for the first time in over a year, he was running for the sheer enjoyment of it.

  As he neared his house, he slowed to a walk, put his hands on his hips and breathed in the salty air, damp from the fog that had rolled in overnight and still loomed like a heavy blanket over the entire coast. The ocean was gray and restless—perfect for surfing. If he had time, he’d put on a wetsuit, grab his favorite board and ride a few waves. But he was due to join the team in San Diego by noon so surfing was out of the question.

  A swell of seawater rushed up the shore. He moved to avoid it and when it washed back out a sand dollar had been left in its frothy wake. He picked it up and studied it. There were no chips or cracks marring its smooth surface. That was a rare occurrence. He rubbed it gingerly on his sweats to remove the clinging sand and then headed inland.

  About halfway between the shore and his house he noticed Kelly on the deck staring intently at the ocean, not yet aware of his presence. She wore one of his UCLA T-shirts and looked just as beautiful as she had in that hotter-than-hell dress she’d worn to Sean and Kayla’s party. He’d never met a woman so unaware of how stunning she was. Or one who downplayed it as much as Kelly did.

  From the moment they’d first locked eyes at the party all he’d thought about was getting her naked. But the night hadn’t turned out quite like he’d planned.

  First, he’d totally forgotten about the picture of Joey on the bookshelf. Then, when Kelly saw it and astutely put two and two together, he couldn’t help himself. He’d spilled his guts, then completely lost it.

  Not very manly of him, he supposed, but after it was all said and done he suspected that subconsciously he’d wanted to talk about Joey. Not with just anybody, but with Kelly. He wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe it was because she’d had the courage tell him about her eating disorder. She’d trusted him with something she never spoke about to anyone. No one knew better than he did how big of a deal that was.

  Later, as Kelly slept tranquilly in his arms it dawned on him that revealing his heavily guarded secret had brought him something that vaguely resembled peace. It was an odd, but welcome state of being, and one he hadn’t felt in an extremely long time.

  “Good morning,” Kelly said cheerfully as he approached the steps that led to the deck. “I made coffee.” She offered him a wide smile. “I was going to make us some eggs but your refrigerator is bare.”

  “I threw out everything before I went up to San Francisco. I wasn’t sure when I’d be back.” He joined her near the railing and noted that she’d found a pair of his sweatpants to go along with the T-shirt. That particular attire had never struck him as sexy before, but on her statuesque body it was that, and more.

  “It’s just as well,” she said with a shrug of her shoulder. “I’m not a good cook.”

  “I guess it runs in the family.”

  Kelly laughed. “I can’t argue with that.” She searched his face, no doubt looking for some sort of sign that he was sorry for confiding in her about Joey. She wouldn’t find it. He wasn’t the least bit sorry. “How was your run?”

  “Good.” He held out his hand. “I have something for you.”

  “What?” She pushed back her sleep-tousled hair, glanced down and gasped softly. “A sand dollar.” When she looked up her expression was wistful. “Kayla and I used to comb the beach for these whenever our parents took us to Santa Cruz.”

  Matt rested his hip against the wood railing. “When I was younger I believed a perfect sand dollar was a good omen. It seemed like every time I found one something amazing happened.”

  She tilted her head and regarded him curiously. “Like what?”

  “When I was seventeen, I found one and the next day I got a letter informing me that I’d been accepted into UCLA on a full baseball scholarship.”

  “I think that had more to do with your hard work than finding a sand dollar on the beach.”

  “Maybe so, but a few years later I found another one and the next week I was drafted by the Dodgers.”

  “Again.” She gave him an indulgent smile. “I think it was your talent, not the shell, that made you a top draft pick.”

  “Perhaps.” He reached for her hand and pressed the sand dollar to her palm. “I want you to have it.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked with a devilish twinkle in her eyes. “I’d hate for you to miss out on some amazing future opportunity.” Not waiting for his reply, she snatched the shell from his hand and clutched it to her chest. “Too late.” Her laugh was low and husky. “It’s mine now. I think I’ll buy a lottery ticket, maybe it will bring me good luck.”

  “Don’t mock the sand dollar.” He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her to his body, still amazed at how perfectly she fit against him. The soft citrusy fragrance she wore invaded his senses, making him supremely aware of her in every pore of his body. “It has strange and mysterious powers.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You are so full of shit.”

  Matt chuckled. “Now that’s the Kelly I know and—” He stopped cold. What the hell? Was he going to just say love? His heart started to pound and he stared at her in shock as it hit him just how much she’d come to mean to him.

  But that wasn’t love. Was it?

  “I’m doing much better with the not swearing thing. Sometimes I can go for hours without cussing,” she said with a grin, unaware he was in a state of near panic over what had almost come out of his mouth. “Mom would be so proud.” She leaned forward, her tempting lips just inches from his. “How soon do we have to leave?”

  “We still have a couple of hours.” He paused, still reeling in confusion. “Why?”

  “I was thinking. I can’t do the walk of shame when all we did last night was sleep.”

  “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

  Her full lips curved in a wicked smile; he felt an involuntary tightening low in his gut. Damn, a mouth like hers ought to be illegal. “I did just receive the lucky sand dollar. I think something amazing is in order, don’t you?”

  “But...what about the lottery?”

  “To hell with the lottery,” she said and pressed her lips to his.

  * * *

  Early Wednesday afternoon, Kelly walked out of Katherine’s office and saw Angie heading for the break room. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped up her pace and followed her friend into the small sterile room that contained two vending machines and a small rectangular table with two chairs.

  “How long are you going to keep avoiding me?” She let the door close behind her and watched as Angie fed the soda machine several coins and then made her selection. The can made a clanking sound that echoed in the room as it dropped to the dispenser tray. Angie retrieved her soda and turned to look at her.

  “I’m not avoiding you, I’m busy,” Angie said, her tone frosty as she popped the top and took a sip.

  “You’re never too busy to come by my office and say hello.” Kelly clutched her notepad to her chest. She’d hurt Angie’s feelings and that was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’m sorry for what I said about Scott.”

  “No, you’re not.” Angie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t like him and you’re not shy about saying so.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and since you’re my best friend, I should support whatever decision you make.”

  Even if I don’t agree with it.

  “Are you saying you’ll stop lecturing me about Scott?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “You promise?”

  “I swear.” Kelly smiled and then noticed the small diamond ring on Angie’s left hand. Her heart plummeted to her stomach. That ring hadn’t been there on Friday. “Did Scott propose?” she asked, forcing her expression to remain neutral.

  Angie nodded solemnly. “On my birthday.”


  “Oh.” She paused as Angie regarded her with wariness. This was it, the moment when she had to walk the talk. “Congratulations, or is it best wishes?” She was able to smile, but it was an effort. “I can never remember which one you say to the bride.”

  “I believe it’s best wishes.”

  “Then, best wishes,” she said, and moved to give Angie what turned out to be an awkward hug. She wished she could be happy about the news, but honestly, a Brazilian bikini wax sounded more enjoyable than attending Angie and Scott’s nuptials. “When’s the wedding? Did you set a date yet?” she asked as she stepped back.

  Angie’s expression brightened. “We’re thinking about May, or maybe June.”

  “Good months,” she said lamely to fill the silence and fought the urge to slap Angie across the face and yell “snap out it.” Instead she gritted out another faux smile. “I’m happy for you. You’ll be a beautiful bride.”

  Sadly, the latter was the only thing she could say with absolute truthfulness.

  For the remainder of the day, Kelly couldn’t stop thinking about Angie’s engagement. Her gut instinct told her that Angie was making a huge mistake but if she said something it would only cause a rift between them, and Angie—as stubborn as she was—would dig her heels in even more.

  No. It was better to go along with it for now and hope that Angie came to her senses before the wedding day. If she didn’t, there was always that part of the ceremony where someone could speak now or forever hold their peace. That might work as a last resort.

  It was after five when Kelly slung her purse over her shoulder, closed her office door and strode down the corridor toward the elevator. Heading to the restroom, she pushed open the door and gasped in horror. Alexis was sprawled unconscious on the tile floor.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered as panic knotted in her stomach.

  Dropping her purse, she sank down next to Alexis and put her fingers against her intern’s neck. Relieved when she found a pulse, she gently eased Alexis to her back and checked her mouth. Her airway was clear, and she was breathing, but her face was still and waxy.

  With shaky hands, she reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. As she called 911, all she could do was pray she’d found Alexis in time.

  * * *

  Two and a half hours later, Kelly let herself into the condo, surprised to find it dark. She was almost positive that Stacia had said she’d be back from her New York route tonight, but maybe she’d misunderstood, or maybe Stacia’s schedule had changed. It wasn’t like they always informed each other of their whereabouts, and Stacia had been on the cool side after the night she’d come home to find Kelly and Matt kissing on the couch.

  Well, boo-fucking-hoo. It wasn’t her fault Matt wasn’t interested in pursuing something with Stacia. Stacia was used to men falling at her feet and now, the one time when a man didn’t look twice at her, she was acting like a sore loser.

  After turning on the lamp in the living room, she went to her bedroom, changed into a green knit tank dress and then padded barefoot to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since lunch. Pulling the refrigerator door open, she surveyed the meager contents and sighed. So much for dinner. She’d forgotten to do her grocery shopping before going to L.A. for the engagement party.

  She heard her cell phone ringing and, thinking it might be an update on Alexis’s condition, she rushed to her bedroom.

  “Hey,” she said after seeing Matt’s name on the caller ID. “Are you back?”

  “We got in an hour ago and I’m starving. Do you want to meet me at Kamu’s for dinner?”

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not in the mood to go out.” Kelly sank to the bed and traced the quilt pattern with her finger. “I’ve had a rough day.”

  “How about I pick up something and come over?” he suggested. “That is...if you feel like some company.”

  “I’d like that. I’m hungry too. Can you get me my usual?”

  “You got it. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

  It was more like thirty minutes before he arrived, but that had given her time to set the table in the kitchen’s small nook. The kitchen was as stark and sterile as the living room. Black quartz countertops, stainless-steel appliances and gray walls didn’t make for a calming dining experience.

  Matt sat across from her looking relaxed and ruggedly handsome in jeans and a white polo shirt—a vivid contrast against his deeply tanned skin. That’s what had taken the extra fifteen minutes. He’d stopped by his place and changed out of his travel clothes before picking up the food.

  “Spill it. What made this day so rough?” Matt picked up his beer and took a sip.

  “For starters, I found out Angie got engaged.”

  “Angie’s engaged?” His brow furrowed. “To whom?”

  “A jerk who works for the city.” Kelly took a taste of her tomato basil soup and shook her head in disgust. Not because of the soup—it was delicious—but because the thought of Angie marrying Scott still left a sour taste in her mouth. “And I have to keep my big mouth shut and go along with this crap because Angie is my friend and I have to support her.”

  “I really thought there might be something going on between Angie and J.T.” Matt set his bottle on the table. “I guess the engagement blows that theory right out of the water.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Something went down between them, but Angie isn’t about to admit to it.”

  “Neither is J.T.” He picked up a French fry. “I hope I’m not around when he finds out about the engagement.”

  “I hope you are.” She set her spoon in the soup bowl then pushed it aside. “He might need someone to talk to.”

  “I’ll do what I can to help him, but he’s been extremely tight-lipped when it comes to Angie.” Matt popped the fry in his mouth and chewed. “Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked after he’d finished the last of his fries.

  “Sure.”

  He studied her thoughtfully for several seconds, almost as if he was hesitant to continue. “What caused your eating disorder?”

  Kelly leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. She wasn’t surprised by the question, just at how long it had taken him to ask it.

  “I think the seeds were planted when I was about twelve. I had a growth spurt over the summer between seventh and eighth grades. That September when I went back to school I was about five-ten. A lot of the kids called me the Jolly Green Giant and asked me stupid questions like ‘how’s the weather up there?’”

  Matt’s dark eyes filled with compassion. “That had to be rough.”

  “It was, but I pretended like it didn’t matter. I even laughed along with them so they wouldn’t see how much it bothered me. Between then and my sophomore year in high school I grew another two inches. When I was a senior, Kayla was a freshman. Of course, the kids compared the two of us, and the comparisons didn’t favor me.”

  “Were you bingeing and purging back then?”

  “No. That started during my senior year at St. Mary’s. Every day I looked in the mirror and saw a girl that none of the guys wanted to date. I couldn’t do anything about my height, but I thought if I lost weight they would be attracted to me. I stopped eating regular meals and whenever I got hungry I’d binge on whatever I could get my hands on. Afterwards I’d feel guilty about all the calories and either go throw up or spend hours in the gym.” She reached for her beer. “It’s such skewed and dangerous thinking, I know that now, and that’s the main reason I’ve been concerned about Alexis.” She pointed her bottle at him. “Oh, that’s the other awful thing that happened today. I found Alexis in the bathroom. Unconscious.”

  Matt’s eyes widened with alarm. “Is she all right?”

  “I think so.” She took a quick sip of beer and then continued, “I called her parents and met them at the hospital. I told them about my suspicions. They were shocked, just like my parents were. They had no idea what’s been going on
with her.”

  “Maybe now she’ll get some help.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “But she has to want to get well because it’s extremely hard to change those thought processes. It’s still a struggle for me,” she set the bottle on the table, “as you know.”

  “What I know is you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. “I wish I would have had half that strength when Joey died.”

  “You can’t compare our situations, Matt. You found out you had a son seven years after he was born, and on the same day you were told he was terminally ill. It’s not the same at all.”

  “Still, I’m not proud of how I handled it.

  “Everyone handles grief differently.”

  “I suppose so. The funny thing is I never thought much about having kids. I figured if I did have them, it would be after I stopped playing ball—you know—when I had the time to really be there for them. I only had a short time with Joey, but I’m grateful for every second of it.” He leaned back and managed a weak smile. “He hated hospital gowns so I brought him one of my jerseys. He wore it all the time—never even let Leslie take it home to wash it.” Matt bowed his head and after several silent seconds looked up at her, his moist eyes filled with sadness. “We buried him in it.”

  Unable to bear witness to his pain without comforting him, Kelly pushed out of her chair and rounded the table. When she put her hand on his shoulder he turned, slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face into her midriff. He didn’t cry. He just held her tightly as she gently stroked his hair.

  A minute or so later, he pulled back and gazed up at her. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about him.”

  “You’ve kept it inside for a long time.” She lifted her fingers to his temple and brushed back his hair. “Talking about him will help you heal.”