by Lisa Bilbrey
“Did you?” Travis asked, driving into the parking garage and finding his usual spot.
Russ smirked and grabbed the door handle. “Yep. I couldn’t help it, though. She’d get this fiery look in her eyes that amused me.”
“Yeah, Penelope used to get that look, too,” Travis snickered.
“I bet she still does. You’ll just have to wait until you move down there to find out for sure.”
Travis grinned. “I can’t wait.”
The business office was located next to the press box. Travis had been up there just a few times over the last six years. As they made their way down the corridor, he pointed out the various pictures of himself and his teammates, their trophies for winning the last three division championships, and several magazine covers that had featured him and other members of the Sharks. Stewart Thornton, the owner of the Sharks, had once told Travis that he wanted every person who passed through his halls to know how hard the team worked for what they had. While Stewart was a businessman, Travis knew that in his heart he loved the game and wanted to keep it pure.
Travis paused outside the business offices and took a much-needed deep breath before he opened the heavy, oak door.
Margaret Keller, Stewart’s assistant, looked up from her work and smiled. “Travis!”
Standing up, she walked around her desk to hug him. Margaret was just shy of five feet tall and had short, black hair and wide, expressive, hazel eyes. She’d been working for Stewart since he’d taken over the Sharks almost fifteen years earlier. She often complained that Travis needed a woman in his life and had tried to fix him up on several blind dates, none of which he had agreed to go on. He just couldn’t get her to understand that he wasn’t interested in dating. Of course, he’d never told her about Penelope or how she still owned his heart, either.
Margaret stepped back but kept her hands on his arms and gave him a disapproving look. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young man,” she scolded him, even though she was just ten years older than him. “You turned down a good job.”
“Yes, ma’am, I did, but I had a good reason,” Travis chuckled. “Two, in fact. But first, let me introduce you to my father.” He turned and gestured to Russ, who was standing behind him, looking a bit bewildered. “Margaret, this is my father, Russ McCoy. Dad, this is Margaret Keller, and she’s very bossy, in case you can’t tell.”
“So I see,” Russ teased, and Travis had to swallow a laugh. His father was flirting with her. “It’s nice to meet you, darlin.”
“Oh, you too, Russ,” Margaret cooed. She turned back to Travis, “Now, what is more important than a chance to coach?”
“Okay, what I’m about to tell you isn’t for the office gossips, got it? This is private, and I’d like to keep it that way — at least for now.”
“Of course!” Margaret agreed, her expression eager.
Travis smiled. “The reasons are the love of my life and our son.”
Margaret gasped. “You’re in love? Wait, you have a son? You were gone for two weeks! The last time I checked, it takes a lot longer than a couple of weeks to create a kid. Though, to be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve had any practice making a baby, if you know what I mean.”
“Margaret!” Travis laughed. “You’re rambling.”
“Oh, sorry.” Margaret exhaled. “You met someone?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured. “It’s a long story, but Penelope and I were high school sweethearts, and because I was an idiot, I lost a lot of time with her. When I went home, she and I were able to reconnect, and I found out that we have a son together. Anyway, she and Max are more important than anything else to me.”
“Aw,” Margaret sighed. “That’s so sweet.”
“Margaret, I need you to call the printers and check on the status for this week’s programs,” Stewart Thornton groused as he walked out of his office. Looking up, he noticed Travis standing there. “Oh, hey, Travis. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“I just got here,” Travis explained. “Margaret and I were catching up.”
“Oh, well, that’s great,” Stewart mumbled. Bringing his hand up, he pulled on the Windsor knot of his tie, trying to loosen it from around his thick neck.
With the classic build of a lineman, Stewart was broad in the shoulders and chest, which had given him the ability to move mountains back in his day. Before he’d taken ownership of the Sharks, Stewart had been one of the best offensive linemen in the business, having led Detroit to back-to-back championships. Of course that had been twenty years ago, but he still had the same love of the game, which made turning him down even harder for Travis.
“Is this your father?” Stewart asked, nodding his head toward Russ.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Travis muttered. “Russ, this is Stewart Thornton.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Stewart held his hand out to Russ, who took it with a smile.
“You, too. I watched you play back in eighty-eight; you were amazing,” Russ said.
Stewart smiled. “Well, thank you. That was a long time ago, though. Now, I get the pleasure of watching the game reach new heights.” Turning to Travis, he clapped his hands together. “I hope that you’ve come by to tell me that you’ve changed your mind about joining our staff. We could sure use you, Travis.”
“I’m afraid not,” Travis replied. “I would like a couple minutes of your time, though. I can come back later if you’re busy.”
“Nonsense,” Stewart scoffed and gestured toward his office. “You’re already here, after all.” Looking back at Margaret, he added, “The programs were supposed to be here this morning. Please find out why they aren’t.”
“Yes, sir.” Margaret turned back to Travis. “I’m happy for you, even if it does mean that you’re leaving us.”
“Thank you, Margaret, for always being a friend.” He hugged her before following Stewart into his office. Travis knew that she would keep Russ distracted to give Stewart and him the time they needed to hash out everything.
Travis had been in Stewart’s office a few times before, but he was always amazed by the memorabilia on his shelves. There were leather helmets from the early 1900’s, a ball from the 1932 college game between Yale and Harvard, and various newspaper articles dating back over a hundred years. Stewart’s office felt like walking into the Football Hall of Fame.
“Have a seat,” Stewart said, gesturing to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Can I get you a coffee or water? Maybe a soda?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” Travis waited until the older man had sat down before he spoke again. “First, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past six years. I’ve loved every moment that I’ve been with the Sharks.”
“Then why are you leaving?” Stewart asked. “I get that you’re out as a player. It’s unfortunate that your shoulder will never be strong enough for you to play again, but I’m offering you a chance to coach. Why won’t you take it?”
Travis brought his finger up to rub his chin and tried to organize his thoughts. “Since I was a little boy, the game has been my life. There wasn’t a moment that went by that I didn’t dream about standing in the middle of the largest stadium in the world and hearing people chanting my name. I slept with my football, for Christ’s sake. I’ve had a great career, a lot better than most players get. We’ve had more wins than losses, but I can’t do it anymore.
“I went home because I needed to get some stuff straightened out before I could even think about what my future looked like. But, in the process, I discovered that my future is there. I have a family back in Texas, people who love me — people who need me. So, while I appreciate the offer, with respect I have to decline. I hope you’ll understand.”
Stewart huffed. “Well, no, I don’t, but I won’t press you to change your mind, Travis. The last six years have taught me that when you make your mind up, there isn’t anything anyone can say or do to change it. But I won’t lie and tell you that I’m not d
isappointed.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to do what I know is right for me and my family.”
“Yeah, I guess I can appreciate that. Hell, this team is my family, and every decision that I make has to be for the good of team, even when that means having to say goodbye to you.”
“I’ll miss this place, but maybe one day I’ll be able to bring my son here.” Travis smiled at the thought of Max walking the halls with him. Shaking his head, he turned back to Stewart. “Now, I’d like to get my contract stuff settled so that I can head back to Texas. What do I need to do?”
An hour later, Travis walked out of Stewart’s office a free man, so to speak. While the Sharks would still deposit the remainder of the current year’s salary into his account throughout the next few months, Travis was off the roster. It was a bittersweet moment for him; the ending of one era in his life and the start of another. With the assurance that Stewart would keep the announcement under wraps until the end of the season, Travis felt at peace with his decision.
***
Chapter Three
A Little Wine and Dine
After his meeting with Stewart, Travis decided to show Russ around the rest of the stadium. They started out with the locker rooms, and then Travis took Russ out onto the field. The look of complete and utter wonderment on his father’s face reminded him of how he himself had felt as a child watching his first football game. If Travis concentrated long enough, he could still feel the cool, autumn breeze and see the mirage of orange, yellow, and red as the trees changed with the season. He could hear the screams of the crowd as they rooted for their teams, and he still could feel the thrill of victory when the Broncos won their first state title.
Travis had to hope that there would be a day when Max would know just how he’d felt — not because Travis wanted Max to win the state football title, though that would be fine. The important part was the love of the game and the feeling of adventure. It was the knowledge that every drop of sweat, every bruise, and every aching muscle came from putting it all on the line. Travis wanted Max to feel that kind of happiness and pride in everything he did.
“Wow, this is . . .” Russ trailed off as he turned around in a circle. “Incredible isn’t a strong enough word. I can’t imagine the rush that you must have felt every time you took the field.”
Travis laughed. “Yeah, it was like being high.”
Russ lifted an eyebrow in his direction.
“Not that I know what being high is like,” Travis was quick to add, “because drugs are stupid. ‘Just say no’ and all that.”
“Oh, no, of course not,” Russ scoffed.
“I didn’t need drugs to feel that exhilaration. Standing on the fifty yard line, holding the ball in my hands while searching for someone — anyone — who was open did the job for me. I lived the dream that every kid wishes he could; I got to play football every day.”
“You did so much more than that, Travis,” Russ said. “You gave millions of children hope that one day they could be where you were right then. Never underestimate the power you held in your hands each week.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for years, Mr. McCoy, but your boy here is a tad bit stubborn.” At the sound of Cal Hendricks’ voice, Travis and Russ looked behind them. Cal was leaning against the goal post with his arms folded in front of him and a smirk curving the corners of his lips. “But from the way he tells it, he gets it all from you,” he added.
“Nah,” Russ said, shaking his head. “I still have all of my stubbornness, so he must’ve gotten it from his mother.”
Cal threw his head back and laughed. The tall, lanky red-head pushed away from the goal post and walked over to Russ, extending a hand. “How are you, sir? Been a long time.”
“I’m good, Cal.” Russ shook his hand. “How are you? Travis doesn’t share much with me, ya know.”
“Hmm, yeah, I know,” Cal replied, glaring at Travis. “I’m good. Stay pretty busy trying to keep everyone healthy. They seem to feel that every ache and pain needs to be addressed. Well, with the exception of Travis, of course.”
“Yeah, yeah; whatever,” Travis muttered. “If it doesn’t hurt some, you’re not doing it right. That’s always been my motto.”
“Hmm, and where are you right now?” Cal asked.
Travis smiled. “Right where I am supposed to be.”
“You are not supposed to be on the field with a bum shoulder, Trav!” Cal exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not,” Travis assured him. “Cal, I’m leaving Miami for good.”
Cal stood there staring at Travis for what felt like an eternity. Before Travis could say anything else, he threw his hands up and said, “What? Are you being traded to another team? I’ll fucking kill Stewart if he cleared you to play. Damn it, Travis, you’re going to end up doing some serious damage to that shoulder!”
“Whoa, calm down, Cal!” Travis held up a hand, trying to stop his friend’s rant. “He didn’t trade me or clear me for anything. I’ve decided it’s time to retire.”
“What?” Cal gasped. “Man, are you sure? I know you can’t play the game, but there’s still a place for you in football. Didn’t Stewart offer you a coaching job? Because I told him to!”
Travis sighed. “Yes, he did, but I turned him down.” Before Cal could scream at him for being an idiot, he continued. “I’m going home. This time for good. Remember that girl I told you about freshman year? The one I left back in Clarendon?”
Cal smirked and nodded.
Travis shoved his hands into his pocket; he could feel his father watching him. “Well, um, I followed your advice and went home a couple weeks back. Penelope still lives there, and I didn’t know it at the time, but we have son — Max. And, um, he’s an amazing kid, Cal. So, I’m going home to be with him and Penelope. It — it’s where I belong.”
“Never thought I’d see the day when Travis McCoy grew up.” Cal grinned. “It’s a good look on you, man.”
“Yeah, feels good, too,” Travis admitted. “Anyway, I was gonna stop by before we left and see if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight. Thought I might take Russ over to Marty’s, show him what a real steak tastes like.”
“Oh, wow. I would, but Anna and I have plans.” Cal shot a quick glance in Russ’s direction. “Ben’s at a friend’s house for the weekend.”
“He already knows about Anna,” Travis said.
Cal’s eyes closed.
“Sorry. He asked, so I told him.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” Russ grumbled, causing Travis and Cal to laugh. “And I won’t lie and say the age difference doesn’t concern me, Cal, but Travis tells me that she’s good for you. I’d like the chance to meet her myself. Now, if that makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll understand.”
“Mr. McCoy, it’s not me that I’m worried about,” Cal confessed. “Anna’s a little wary when it comes to meeting new people. They tend to judge her based on her age, rather than getting to know her first.”
“Well, son, I’m sorry she’s had it so rough, but I’d like the chance to meet her. She’s important to you, and well, I’ve always thought of you like a son.”
Travis shifted his eyes to the ground and tried to bury the hurt that sprang up inside him at Russ’s words. He didn’t begrudge Cal a place in Russ’s heart, but it hadn’t been more than a couple of weeks ago that Travis had felt like his father had never loved him. Now, Russ was reaching out to Travis’s best friend and calling him one of his own. It stung.
“I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll give her a call and let you know,” Cal offered. “Does that work?”
“Of course it does,” Russ scoffed. “Not like I would force you or anything. Right, Travis?”
Travis looked over at his father. “Yep.”
“Okay, well, I should get going,” Cal said. “Travis, I’ll text you and let you know for sure.”
“Alright.” Travis nodded. Once Cal had left, he gestured for Russ to follow him. “We should go
, too. Practice will be starting soon, and we don’t want to get in the way.”
“Okay,” Russ said.
The ride back to Travis’s apartment was very different from the trip to the stadium. Travis answered Russ every time he spoke to him, but he couldn’t get any more than the bare minimum of words out without risking his father seeing how much it had hurt him that Russ was so accepting of Cal. He stopped and picked up some packing boxes on the way, in the hopes that focusing his attention on boxing up his belongings would help distract him from the hurt. However, the minute they walked into the apartment, Russ turned to Travis.
“What the hell is your problem?” Russ demanded.
“Nothing,” Travis muttered. “Why would I have a problem? It’s not like you reached out to my best friend in a way that you never did me — not until recently, anyway.”
“Huh?” Russ looked confused.
“You told Cal that you’ve always thought of him as a son,” Travis said.
“Yeah, and that’s wrong?”
Travis huffed. “No, but why did it take you ten years to see me as your son?”
“What?” Russ shook his head. “Travis, I don’t understand. You’ve always been my son.”
“No, I haven’t, because when I needed you, you weren’t there!” Travis seethed.
“I thought we’d already gone through all of this,” Russ replied, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t the father you deserved when you were younger, but I can’t change that. All I can do is be your father now.”
Travis sighed. “No, I know that. I just . . .” Pausing, he tried to calm down. “I just wish that it hadn’t taken us so long to get over our shit. I missed you, Dad.”
“I missed you, too. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t pick up the phone to call, but pride has always been a hard thing for me to overcome.” Russ placed his hand on Travis’s shoulder. “But I’m here now, and I will be here every day. If you’ll let me, of course.”
Travis smiled. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” Russ asked.