by Tami Hoag
I just have to get my heart broken.
God would have had no trouble creating the world in seven days, Genna thought, if each of those days had been as long as the ones that followed Jared’s departure. In fact, He probably could have taken an extra day off. It seemed to her she counted every second of every minute of every hour of Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Not crying, not feeling sorry for herself, not feeling anything but empty.
One thing she was sure of, she would never fall in love again. It wasn’t because she was bitter or afraid. It was because she’d given all she had. She was just fresh out of love for men—good, bad, or otherwise.
Running on empty, she spent her time on such activities as watching her oven clean itself, and even that was too strenuous.
Monday evening she forced herself to drag out boxes of bulletin board materials that she had accumulated over eight years of teaching, inviting Amy to keep her company and help her sort through the mountains of construction-paper alphabets and animal cutouts. The subject of J.J. Hennessy was immediately declared off limits, at least as far as romance was concerned. They couldn’t totally avoid him as a topic, since Alyssa was present. Genna had volunteered to baby-sit while Grace and Bill took Aunt Roberta to the airport.
Alyssa seemed even more subdued than Genna. She sat on the love seat in her nightgown with Dollie, regarding a coloring book with uncharacteristic apathy and paying little or no attention to the Disney movie Genna had rented for her. When bedtime rolled around, the tears began to flow. Jared’s daughter was convinced her father was never coming home, just as her mother had never come home after their accident.
Genna didn’t hesitate to dial the number Jared had left with his parents in case of emergency, but she had to admit to being reluctant to speak with him. While she was waiting for him to come on the line, she decided she wouldn’t give him a chance to start a personal conversation. Alyssa was the only reason she was calling.
“Jared, this is Genna,” she said above Alyssa’s sobs. The little girl had her head pressed to Genna’s shoulder, her tears soaking into Genna’s gray T-shirt. “I’m baby-sitting Lyssa and we’re having a little problem. She thinks you’re not coming home—ever.”
Before Jared could say anything, she handed the receiver to Alyssa.
“D-daddy?”
“Hey, muffin, what’s wrong?” Jared asked, guilt riding him hard. He had wanted to call his daughter sooner, but there just hadn’t been time. He should have made time.
“Are y-you in h-heaven?”
Jared’s heart lodged firmly in his throat. “No, baby,” he assured hoarsely. “I’m at training camp. They don’t have phones in heaven, sweetheart.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He grimaced as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed. Every muscle in his body felt as if it’d been put through a Veg-O-Matic. “I’m a long way from heaven. I’m at training camp. We talked all about that, remember?”
Jared talked until Alyssa sounded relaxed and was reasonably certain she was going to see him again. He promised to call her every night before her bedtime from now on, then he told her to have sweet dreams and asked to speak to Genna again.
Genna, he thought with a smile, adjusting the ice pack on his shoulder. Already he missed her like crazy. He frowned, though, when she came back on the line because her voice sounded like something fresh out of the freezer.
“That do the trick?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sure she’ll be fine now,” Genna said, determined to terminate the conversation posthaste. “Thank you, J.J. Sorry we had to disturb you.”
He realized with no small amount of surprise that she was about to hang up, and he rushed to keep her on the line. “Gen, did you get my note?” He’d been on pins and needles wondering how she’d reacted.
The jerk! she thought, shooting the phone a narrow-eyed look of outrage. Did he think she was some kind of half-wit?
“Yes,” she snapped. “General Motors and I thank you.”
Jared winced at the sound of the receiver slamming down on the other end of the line. What had he done now? He knew he hadn’t spent much time composing the note—he’d had to spend too much time trying to track Genna down—but he didn’t think it was all that bad. And what did GM have to do with their future? She had to have been referring to his check and the car payments she would make with it. He would have thought a marriage proposal would have ranked above auto financing in Genna’s mind. She was probably angry he hadn’t called sooner, but the first few days of camp were always hectic for him. He hoped she’d understand that when he explained.
He waited an hour before calling back, to be sure Alyssa was asleep, so they could talk without interruption. He decided it would be best to work up to the subject of his note slowly, given Genna’s apparent mood.
“Hi, it’s me. Everything under control?”
Genna heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes at Amy, who sat cross-legged on the floor sorting through woolly, cotton-ball sheep. She had never taken Jared for a sadist, but he seemed determined to rub her nose in the end of their relationship. She decided to be incredibly sophisticated about the whole thing and deny any heartbreak he might egotistically believe he’d caused. “Lyssa’s sound asleep. So … how’s summer camp going?”
Jared gave a nervous laugh. His instincts were telling him something was definitely wrong here. He and his lady love seemed to be working out of different playbooks. “That’s training camp.”
“Oh. Sorry. How’s it going?”
“It stinks. I hate it.”
“Gee, that’s too bad,” she said without a lick of sincerity.
“It’s okay. I always hate it. Everybody does. We’ve got an assistant coach who thinks he’s still in the Marines and a rookie quarterback who thinks he’s the next Jim McMahon.”
“Is he any relation to Ed McMahon?” she asked with bored indifference, which was not an easy task, given the fact that every muscle in her body was so tight she was trembling and she had a pressure behind her eyes that felt suspiciously like tears.
“No, he’s not,” Jared said, his heart sinking slowly toward his stomach. She didn’t sound like a lady who was making wedding plans. Maybe she wanted a little persuading. “You know, I’m really glad you were there for Lyssa. You’re so good with her.”
“You’re welcome.” This had better not be the “what a good friend you are” speech.
“You’ve been an awfully good friend.”
One succinct if vulgar word crossed Genna’s mind as the tears started to pool in her eyes.
“I think Alyssa sees you as a kind of second mother.”
Self-preservation forced her to swallow the lump in her throat and put a stop to this before she dissolved into the pile of debris at her feet. “Look, Jared, I know what you’re trying to do, but it isn’t necessary.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I’m perfectly aware the romance has gone out of our relationship.”
“It has?” His heart dropped the rest of the way and plopped into his churning stomach. Had he misread the situation again? He had been so sure—
“That was the deal, after all.”
“But—” That blasted deal!
“So, it was a fun summer. I don’t have any regrets—”
“Genna, honey,” he interrupted. Nothing was making sense. It was worse than trying to have a conversation with Aunt Roberta. “You sound upset—”
“Ha!” She laughed hysterically. So much for sophistication. “Why should I sound upset?”
“Ask him about the note!” Amy prompted, poking Genna’s jean-clad leg with a cardboard giraffe.
Genna made an angry face and waved her off.
“Well, I don’t know!” he said, exasperated, pulling his ice pack from behind his shoulder and settling it firmly on his head. “It seems to have something to do with the note. If you hadn’t taken off after the fire, we could’ve just talked—”
“That’s
okay,” she snarled. “I can read English. I got the message loud and clear. You don’t have to beat me over the head with it, Hennessy. It’s over! It’s over and I wish it’d never ever started!”
For the second time that evening Jared sat back and stared at the phone. He felt ten times worse now than he had after practice, where two rookie defensive ends had tried to break him in two. He was stunned. Genna was through with him. He didn’t know how he’d managed to do it, but he’d lost her.
Genna left Amy sputtering in the living room. Ignoring her friend’s demands for information, she walked out the back door and dropped onto the lounge chair to stare unseeing up at the stars.
You’ve blown it royally this time, Hastings. After the way she’d behaved, she’d be lucky if Jared ever spoke to her again. She’d agreed to the terms; she had no right to be angry because he’d stuck to them. Now she’d not only lost her heart, she’d lost her friend as well.
THIRTEEN
“I WISH I’D never let you talk me into this,” Genna muttered for the eighty-ninth time as Amy turned her car in at the gate of Hawks-Riverside Stadium.
“Quit your whining,” Amy complained. She stopped and showed her pass to the security guard. “You want to patch things up with J.J., right? You still want to be friends, right? So this is the perfect opportunity.”
“But he didn’t invite me, he invited you,” she pointed out yet again. Her fingers fidgeted with the big red bow on the huge box of cookies she’d brought as a peace offering. “I still don’t see why Brian didn’t come with you. I’d think a reception for his favorite football team would have taken precedence over a Kiwanis meeting.”
Amy bypassed the larger parking lots and parked her car near a lower-level entrance, hoping Genna was too frazzled to notice there were only half a dozen other cars in the lot. What she wouldn’t go through for her lunkheaded friends, she thought fondly. Genna couldn’t see past the nose on her face, and Jared—she shook her head as she dropped her keys in her purse. What would they do without me? she wondered.
“I told you. Tonight is their big meeting about the Founder’s Day Feast. The barbecued chicken faction needed his vote.”
“I hope they win after last year’s disaster. Hash and beets don’t rank way up there on the feast list with most people.”
Kamikaze butterflies were attacking the walls of her stomach as Genna climbed out of the car. She smoothed down the skirt of her purple taffeta dress. “Are you sure we’re not overdressed?”
Amy smiled down at her new black silk slacks and gold lamé tunic she had acquired courtesy of a very grateful J.J. Hennessy. “Not at all. This is a real hoity-toity deal. The owners of the team and all the sponsors and sportswriters and all those big mucky-mucks will be here. They do this every year,” she lied. “Don’t you ever read the sports section?”
“No,” Genna replied as she heaved open the steel door and they stepped into a long hallway with yellow block walls and a plain concrete floor.
Thank heaven, Amy said to herself. If Genna read the sports page, then she would have known the Hawks didn’t train at the stadium, but out at their own facility near Newington.
Amy turned right and started down the hall with Genna trailing one reluctant step behind.
“I’m sure he won’t be happy to see me,” Genna muttered, chewing the lipstick off her lower lip. “He would have called—”
“Will you put a cork in it? How could he call? Your phone has been off the hook for four days. Tell me how he could’ve called.”
They stopped near the darkened runway that led to the playing field. Genna tried to picture the look on Jared’s face when he saw her at the reception. She could only hope he wouldn’t have the bouncer toss her out. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I think you’re making me sick. Will you get a grip on yourself?”
Genna scowled and looked up and down the corridor. There wasn’t a soul to be seen. “Are you sure this is the right night?” She shifted from one slim black heel to the other, clutching her cookie box to her chest.
“Maybe we’re early,” Amy said. “You wait here, I’ll see if there’s anybody in the locker room who can tell me.”
“Amy!” Genna yelled, horrified. “You can’t just walk into the locker room. What if there are men in there?”
Amy paused at the door, across the hall, a comic grin on her face. “I should be so lucky.”
Genna held her breath and waited for angry shouts to come out of the room, but none came. No one came out either. She leaned back against the concrete block wall, immediately gasping and jerking away from the cold, clammy surface. Goose bumps ran down her bare back. She couldn’t decide which was worse—worrying about Jared not wanting to be friends anymore, or thinking about the late movie she’d seen three nights before that had been set in a stadium not unlike this one, where an ax-wielding maniac had chased down and pulverized one plucky cheerleader after another.
One side of her cookie box caved in under the pressure of her hands. What the devil was taking Amy so long?
Suddenly the locker room door swung open and an enormous ghoul loomed over her. She screamed, a blood curdling sound that shrieked down the cavernous hallway.
“It’s only me, Miss Hastings,” rumbled a deep bass voice.
“Brutus!” Genna braced a hand against the wall to hold herself up. Her whole body felt as if it were made of fresh taffy, her heart pounded against her ribs like a paddle ball, and she gasped for enough oxygen to keep from fainting. “You startled me.”
She worked her facial muscles into what she hoped was a smile and looked up at him. He had gold glitter in his mohawk and wore a big gold hoop earring. Ghoul or Brutus—was there a whole heck of a lot of difference?
“Sorry,” he said with a distinctly unapologetic smile. His gold tooth gleamed dully in the light of the hall.
The fact that he was wearing a tuxedo slowly penetrated Genna’s brain. A real tuxedo, with a shirt and everything. There wasn’t a scrap of leather on him. “My, you’re very handsomely turned out this evening. For the big reception, I suppose?”
He made a sound in his throat that was close to a panther’s purring. He offered Genna his arm. “This way, please.”
Who in their right mind would refuse him? she wondered. As he led the way toward the entrance to the field, she glanced back nervously toward the locker room. “My friend Amy—did you happen to see her in there?”
“Mmmmmmmm …” he purred.
Genna gulped.
As they stepped onto the playing field, lights came on just above the lower deck of seats. Not the bright lights the team played night games under, but more like security lights. They were just enough to illuminate the artificial turf with a hazy glow. At center field stood a table set for two, draped in fine white linen. As they drew closer to it, Genna could see the gleam of china and silver, the sparkle of crystal. A dozen white tapers burned in sterling candelabra. Across from it, delicate pink tiger lilies were displayed in a Waterford vase.
Genna was too stunned to think, much less speak, as Brutus seated her at the table. She sat back and listened to the stadium organist playing a mellow, romanticized version of “Lady of Spain.” Brutus retreated with her cookie box to the sideline, where he stationed himself like a monolith.
Otis appeared in a tux with a lavender bow tie. He filled her champagne glass and the one at the setting opposite her. Still, Genna said nothing. She was too dumbfounded even to speculate. One thing was certain, this party wasn’t set up for a bevy of bigwigs. It was strictly a pairs event—one pair, and she was half of it.
“Your waiter’s name is Stephan,” Otis said in a well-modulated voice. “The main course this evening is fondue Bourguignonne.”
“And here I thought a hot dog was the best you could do at the ballpark,” Genna said with a weak laugh.
Otis merely smiled politely. “May I direct your attention to our scoreboard, Miss Hastings?”
The ultramodern el
ectronic board came to life in a blaze of lights.
WELCOME TO HAWKS-RIVERSIDE STADIUM
HOME OF THE WORLD CHAMPION
HARTFORD HAWKS!!!
The organist interrupted his song with a brief rendition of Charge!
TONIGHT’S CONTEST: HASTINGS VS. HENNESSY
GO HAWKS GO! GO HAWKS GO! GO HAWKS GO!
GO HAWKS GO!
A BIG HAWKS-FAN WELCOME FOR LEAGUE MVP
J. J. HENNESSY!!!
The last sentence was punctuated by several bars of an Irish jig from the organist, who then promptly segued into a tango.
Genna put a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles as J.J. approached from the other end of the field. She still didn’t know what was going on, but she no longer felt apprehensive. Jared couldn’t have been too angry with her to have arranged such an elaborate affair.
She couldn’t believe how good it was to see him. He hadn’t been gone a week, but she’d been afraid the only time she would see him up close again was at parent-teacher conferences. Even his wild getup looked good to Genna. He wore a black fedora pulled low over his eyes and a very trendy Italian-cut silver-gray suit, over which he wore a long coat of billowing white parachute silk. As he neared her, she could see his diamond earring glittering under the lights.
J.J. felt as if he had a live hamster in his stomach as he walked across the field. What if Amy were wrong? What if Genna really was through with him? Just because she didn’t know about his proposal didn’t mean she’d say yes when she found out. She’d probably call him an uncouth boor and dump the ice bucket over his head.
She looked like a million bucks in that dress. He’d been so miserable missing her, he’d been driving his teammates nuts. Several of them had suggested he take a soak in the whirlpool—headfirst. If she didn’t want him—
Before he could turn tail and run, Brutus appeared beside him to take his coat and hat, and then returned to the sidelines.