by Mary Manners
“I guess...I didn’t realize.”
He took the container from her, stuffed it into the delivery bag along with his. “I’ll take this, throw it away. The custodian’s already been through your office. I don’t want to leave a mess when she’s worked so hard to make things look good.”
Lexi gaped. He sounded like the old Cooper, the one who took the extra time to care about people, even the people most others deemed insignificant.
“Yes, Rhonda’s a hardworking employee who has a heart for the kids. Thank you, Cooper.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood, cleared his throat. “I’ll go down to the gym and tell Andy to head this way. Then I guess I’ll...see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Here, at the center. I told the kids I’d toss the ball around again. They seem to like it well enough.”
“Oh, Cooper, you don’t have to. Your knee’s not completely healed. I’d hate for you to damage it again.”
“Forget about my knee.” A shadow crossed his eyes.
Was that doubt she saw? No, it couldn’t be. Cooper never doubted anything. Once he made a decision, he went with it...no looking back. Just as he’d never looked back after deciding to leave her. He hadn’t been plagued with grief over the end of their relationship. He’d probably never so much as given her a second thought after he walked out that long ago night. The headlines had screamed of his wild adventures with women, and even if only half the stories were true…well, she couldn’t stomach the thought. He’d gone on, made his pocketful of money, enjoyed his fame—no strings attached.
“You just...take care of the kids and business here. I’ll handle the rest,” he said.
That’s what worries me...the rest.
7
The doubt ate at Cooper, twisted like a knife deep in his gut. He barely heard the steady hum of traffic that flowed down Kingston Pike past the open-air café where he sat beneath a colorful umbrella meant to chase away the heat of the sun. What had he been thinking, to walk out on Lexi the way he did? She was the best thing that ever happened to him.
“Cooper...earth to Cooper.” His dad’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Where are you, Coop?”
“Sorry.” He forced his eyes to focus on the glass of sweet tea on the table in front of him. He reached for it, drew a long, cool swig as condensation from the glass slicked his hand. “I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not.” His dad’s deep blue eyes were filled with concern. “You’re worlds away, son. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s just...a lot is up in the air right now. This new kid from Jacksonville’s really thrown a wrench into the mix. Seems he’s an overnight sensation, and I don’t know, given this knee, just where that leaves me.”
“Nobody’s an overnight sensation, Coop. You know that better than anyone. It takes years of practice and sacrifice, especially to get to this level. The kid has talent, sure. But if you take a look at his history, it shows a lot of hard work, as well.”
Cooper sighed. When his dad put it like that, well, it made him ashamed of his quick judgment. “I guess you’re right.”
“What do you want, Coop?”
“I...don’t know.”
“You know I don’t like to mince words, so I’m going to come right out with this.” His dad sighed heavily. “Cooper, do you still love the game?”
The question startled him, and Cooper’s gut clenched, churning the burger he’d just devoured. He lowered his gaze. “Yes. I mean...I don’t know anymore. Maybe not...as much.”
“Well, then, that presents a problem. You know from the start I told you—”
“I know—love of the game comes first, and the rest will all fall into place.”
“That’s right. So I guess you have some serious thinking to do. Better get on it—and soon.”
“I-I know.” That was part of the problem...seeing Lexi again...spending time with her, jumbled his thoughts. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.
“If you still want to play, you need to get back down there with the team, get with the trainer. He’ll whip your knee into shape in no time. Then things will work themselves out. You’ll see. And if you don’t...well...I guess things will work out there, too.”
Cooper drained his glass, then crumpled his napkin and tossed it on the table. “I...um...there’s more, Dad.”
“Of course. There always is.”
The concern in his dad’s eyes eased the tension in Cooper’s gut down a notch.
“Tell me, son.”
“I’m seeing Lexi. I mean, not seeing her, like dating or anything, but we’ve spent a little time together and—”
“And you still have feelings for her?”
“Maybe...I don’t know. She’s so angry with me, and I guess I deserve it. I hurt her pretty bad.”
“Yes, you did, Coop.” His dad leaned an elbow on the table and scratched his chin. “Have you told her you’re sorry?”
“Uh-uh.” The admission embarrassed him. How could he have gone this long with no apology? No wonder she was angry...distant...confused.
“Well, that would be a good place to start.”
“It’s hard. She’s got this look in her eyes when she’s around me...kind of wounded, guarded. With everyone else she lights up like sunshine, but with me—no.”
“Yes, Lexi always was like a luminous ray of sunshine.” His dad smiled. “Her love for the Lord shines through, Cooper.” His gaze leveled a challenge, and his voice took on a firm edge. “Your decisions sound more serious than I thought. Be careful, Coop. You don’t want to make the same mistakes twice.”
Cooper reached across the table and grasped the hand that had held his through so many challenges, so many hurts. His dad’s fingers were fragile now, the skin thinning and mottled with age, but the grip held firm. “Help me, Dad.”
“You’re asking the wrong father.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you prayed about this, Cooper?”
“Prayed...maybe a little...not enough.”
His dad sighed. “That’s the first step, son. Without prayer, the rest is fruitless. You should know that by now.”
“But—”
“I can’t help you with this, Coop.” His dad released his grip, patted his hand. “You have to figure it out on your own. I’d take a knee, if I were you—and soon.”
****
The roar of the lawn mower greeted Lexi when she pulled up the driveway of the small, white frame house she’d purchased a year ago. The place needed some work, but it had loads of character. She loved the wrap-around porch and the tall weeping willow that shaded the front lawn like a graceful sentinel.
Max barked around back as the mower hummed. Good, Andy had started his chores without being reminded.
Now that’s progress.
She shouldered a sack of groceries as she scooted from the car. Tacos—Andy’s favorite—were on the menu tonight.
Her stomach felt a bit uneasy with the nagging thought that she had to call Cooper and give him her decision about going to the Orange and White game tomorrow. She’d put it off as long as possible, because she knew she couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—go. What was the point? Spending time with him would only make her want more, and that was playing with fire. Besides, he’d be leaving soon. Andy didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t going either. There was no point in him drawing close to Cooper.
Because sooner or later—most likely sooner—Cooper will leave for Jacksonville to resume his pursuit of fame and fortune.
She hoped whipping up some tasty tacos would ease the sting of Andy’s disappointment. He would be beyond mad, but eventually he’d realize her decision was for the best.
Yeah...in a million years, maybe.
She rounded the corner of the house to find Cooper shoving her push-mower through overgrown grass. Shock made her bobble the sack.
Across the yard, Andy wielded a weed eater, one she didn’t recognize—since she didn’t own a w
eed eater— along the outside of the fence. And to make matters worse, Max—the lug of a traitor—loped merrily at Cooper’s side.
“Hey!” She plopped the groceries on the tailgate of Cooper’s truck and fanned her arms to get his attention. “Hey, hold up a minute.”
He glanced over, grinned as if he belonged there, and had the nerve to wave. Well, she’d show him. She opened the gate and ignored Max when he lunged to greet her. He danced around her feet as she strode into Cooper’s path and planted herself, arms crossed.
He stopped just short of mauling her freshly-painted toes. He switched off the mower and the noise level went down a few decibels but Andy’s weed eater still shrieked. “That was dangerous.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “Step aside. You’re in the way.”
“Last time I checked, this was my house, my yard.”
“So?”
“So?” She sputtered. “So, what are you doing here, mowing my lawn?”
“Helping.”
“Helping? But, how did you know where I live? How did you know the lawn needed mowing? Where did that weed eater come from? And what made you think I’d want your help?”
He swiped the hem of his T-shirt across a sweat-damp forehead and shook his head. The scent of a hard-day’s work clung to his skin. “That’s way too many questions for one afternoon, especially a hot one like this.” He cranked the mower again and shouted over the roar of the engine. “Just go on into the house and do...well...whatever you do when you come home from a long day at work.”
“I make dinner, and enjoy some peace and quiet.”
“Dinner? What’s for dinner?”
Her chin came up and her arms tightened over her midsection. “Nothing for you. You can’t stay.”
“Mowing sure builds up an appetite.” A thin sheen of sweat covered his powerful arms from his wrists to the strong curve of his shoulders. “And this grass is more like a jungle than a lawn. I don’t think I can drive home without some sustenance.” He killed the mower’s engine again. “Andy said something about tacos on the menu tonight. Was he right, ’cause you know I love tacos.”
“Cooper, you’re impossible.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was simply...exasperating. “You can’t just come to my house and start mowing.”
He scratched his head, tilted the brim of his ball cap forward to shade his eyes from the hot sun. “Why not?”
“It’s just—it’s just. Oh!” She felt like stomping her foot, throwing herself on the ground and indulging in a full-blown temper tantrum.
“You’re going to make Andy feel bad. He wanted to surprise you. He said you’ve been working so hard lately at the center, and helping him with his homework.” He leaned over, murmured. “I shouldn’t let the cat out of the bag, but he’s gonna tell you he made an A on that math project...and on the book report, too.”
“He did. Really?” To her utter displeasure, she felt her resolve begin to wear away.
Oh, how does he manage to do that?
“Yeah, really. But when he tells you, you have to act surprised. I don’t want him to know I said anything.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“Good. Now, if you’ll just let me finish taming this yard, I’ll get back in my truck and out of your hair.”
“Oh. You...you don’t have to go.” Suddenly she wanted him to stay and share a meal. After all, Andy was—could it really be—weed-eating the yard. And he even smiled as he sang along to music that flowed from the ear buds of the iPod he’d stuffed into his pocket.
Cooper’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I don’t know...you took the time to help Andy, and that means a lot to me. Besides, I guess it wouldn’t be very nice of me to send you home without supper after you’ve tamed this jungle of a lawn, especially in this heat. And you do love tacos...”
He studied her. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s too late for that, Cooper.” She sighed and turned to pace the swatch of lawn he’d already mowed. Blades of grass clung to her sandals. “The moment I saw you again, I felt uncomfortable.”
“I’d like the discomfort to go away.”
“I’d like that, too, but I don’t think that’s possible. I’d better go inside and get dinner started.”
“Wait.” He reached for her hand. His skin was calloused from years of weightlifting and handling a football. His fingers, stained with grass and smelling of the gasoline that he’d poured to fuel the mower, twined with hers. He lowered his voice, and his gaze sought hers, held steady. “I’m sorry, Lexi.”
For the slightest moment, her heart stopped beating. The world seemed to tilt and she stumbled back, startled by his words. “What?”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. It was horrible, the way I treated you. Can you ever forgive me?”
Sunspots danced before her eyes, and for a moment, she couldn’t find her voice.
He’s sorry...
“I-I have to go in the house now, Cooper. The food is going to spoil in this heat, and Andy will be ravenous soon enough.”
Confusion clouded his eyes. He released her hand. “OK.”
“You can...come in when you’re done, Cooper. I’ll have dinner waiting.”
She stumbled around to the garage, taking Max with her. Up the stairs and into the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her heart racing, head swimming, as the dog sniffed around the kitchen floor, found a suitable place beneath the table, and curled up with his head propped on his front paws. Faintly, she heard the mower start buzzing again.
What had just happened? Cooper had apologized—no! It wasn’t fair, after all this time. What would she do with his apology, and where would she stuff the resentment, the hurt and disappointment that had become her faithful companions?
How can I forgive him?
Tears stung her eyes as she dumped the contents of the grocery sack onto the counter. She threw open a cabinet and clattered through stacks of pots and pans until she found the skillet she wanted. Ground beef sizzled in the pan, and she diced juicy tomatoes and shredded crisp lettuce leaves, hoping the simple, familiar task would ease her churning emotions.
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other. Ephesians 4:32 whispered to her, and she felt her heart begin to relent.
Her thoughts wandered to the many times during high school that Cooper had ridden his bike or driven over, to mow the lawn. With her mom gone, her dad working long hours, and her sister off doing who knows what, the thankless task fell to her. So Cooper came, and he helped, and afterwards they shared cold lemonade and strawberries on the back porch while mockingbirds chattered in the trees beyond the fence and dogs barked at the paperboy who raced down the street.
And sometimes, as their friendship deepened into something more, she let him hold her hand and they shared a kiss or two beneath the warm sunlight.
Oh, why couldn’t he just stay away and leave me—and Andy—alone?
8
She’s crying.
Cooper watched, mortified, through sliding glass doors that opened into the kitchen. Tears streamed down Lexi’s flushed cheeks as she stumbled over Max to set a cozy wooden kitchen table with three plates. He remembered the table well—he’d spent countless hours poring over homework with Lexi when it graced her parents’ kitchen. She bent down to pat the dog’s head, then dabbed her eyes with a wadded napkin.
I made her cry again. The thought turned his gut inside out.
“I finished the fence.” Andy loped over to stand beside him. Blades of grass blanketed his legs from ankle to knee and ear buds dangled from his shoulders. The heavy beat of a base drum filled the air. “I’ll get the sides of the driveway next. Aunt Lexi will like the way it looks, all trimmed and neat.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be finished here in ten.”
“Me, too.” He glanced over, noticed Lexi’s car in the drive. “When did she get home?”
>
“About twenty minutes ago. You were down by the fence, listening to your music, so you missed her. She’s inside making dinner.”
“Tacos, I hope. You gonna stay?”
“If she’ll let me.”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
Oh, the innocence of youth. Cooper dismissed the question and motioned across the yard instead. “The fence looks good. You do nice work.”
“Thanks. I filled all the holes Max made, too. Every time it storms, he temporarily goes insane and tries to dig his way under the fence if we’re not here to let him inside. It drives Aunt Lexi crazy.”
Cooper laughed at the vision of the spunky black lab digging to China. “Has he ever made a jailbreak?”
“More times than I can count. Sometimes he doesn’t just dig, but he breaks through the fence, too. See all those slats we’ve repaired?”
Cooper nodded. Lexi always had been good with a hammer and nails. The thought made his blood run hot, and he wiped beads of sweat from his brow with the hem of his T-shirt.
“Anyway,” Andy continued, “when Max gets out he just runs around to the front door and barks ’til one of us lets him in. Aunt Lexi scolds him ’cause he tracks mud all over the floor. But then she laughs, ’cause it is kind of funny.”
He remembered, growing up, all the times Lexi said she wanted a dog. Her sister had been allergic, though, so that was that.
“Do you think we can toss the ball for a while after dinner?” Andy asked. “I don’t have any homework tonight.”
“Sure.” He’d better keep moving, clear thoughts of Lexi from his head.
“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Lexie about my A’s. She’s gonna totally freak.”
Cooper pushed on with the mower, yelled over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
****
“That was delicious, Lex.” Cooper dropped his napkin on his plate and pushed back from the table. “I haven’t tasted anything so good in ages.”