by Lisa Bilbrey
“I feel like you’re giving up your entire life for us,” Penelope muttered.
“In a way, I am; but I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby. You and Max, you’re where my future lies.”
“I love you,” she said, her tone quiet. “And I miss you. I can’t sleep without you next to me. Hurry home, okay? I want my family back together.”
“I love you, too.” Travis brought his hand up to rub his forehead. “I’m hurrying, I promise. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay, bye,” she sighed.
The click on the other end echoed through to Travis, sounding a hundred times louder than it was. Letting the phone fall from his hand, he dragged his fingers down his face until they were in front of his mouth. He did everything he could to muffle the yell that reverberated inside him, but when Russ came rushing over, Travis knew he’d failed.
“I need them so much, Dad,” Travis cried.
Russ sat down on the floor next to Travis and placed his arm around his shoulders. “I know you do, son.”
***
Chapter Five
The End of an Era
Travis added the last box from his room to the pile next to the front door and sighed. After almost two weeks, he and Russ had managed to pack the last of his belongings, and now they were waiting for the movers to show up. The day before, the Salvation Army had come in and taken all of his furniture, leaving Russ and Travis with nothing but the floor to sleep on. It hadn’t been easy, but it meant they were one day closer to being able to go home.
The rental company had let Travis out of his lease since they had a waiting list full of people who wanted to move into the building. With the promise that he’d be out by the next morning, they’d waived the next six months’ rent. His mail was already being forwarded to Penelope’s, and he’d closed out all of his accounts, transferring everything to the local banks in Texas. He was ready to leave Miami for good.
“Boy, you’d better get going,” Russ said, coming out of the kitchen with another box, this one labeled as fragile.
Travis sighed; he needed to go over to the stadium and say goodbye to the team. They’d been a part of his life for six years and had become like family to him. Through heartbreaking losses and celebratory wins, he and the members of the Sharks had been through a lot together, but now he was leaving them behind.
“I’m heading that way now,” Travis replied. “Are you sure you can handle everything here on your own?”
“Of course I can,” Russ scoffed. “I ain’t gonna be doing any of the lifting. That’s why you’re paying them the big bucks, isn’t it?”
Travis was even more thankful that Russ had decided to come back with him. There was no way he would have been able to get everything done on his own; there’d been too much.
Travis laughed. “True; very true. Okay, I’ll be back in an hour or two. If you need me, call.”
“Yes, sir,” Russ snickered, giving him a mock salute. “Just be safe.”
“I will,” Travis promised before he left.
~*~*~*~
By the time Travis pulled his car up to the stadium, his stomach was in knots. He’d been dreading this moment since he’d made the choice to come back to Miami. Deciding to leave was one thing — trying to get the people who’d seen you at your lowest to understand was something else altogether. Travis feared that they’d agree with the press and think he was leaving just because things had gotten hard.
Trying to pull himself together, he climbed out and headed for the locker rooms. The Sharks were scheduled to play Dallas tonight, and he wanted a chance to talk to them before fans started flooding the stadium. He paused outside of the locker room and took a deep breath. Here I go, he thought and pulled the door open. When he walked in, his soon-to-be-ex teammates turned and looked at him.
Travis could feel the apprehension rolling off them, but he tried to keep his voice calm when he said, “Hey.”
“Hey? That’s all you can say?” Gary Clark, his right tackle, stood up and walked over to him, offering a handshake. About the same height as Travis, Gary was twice as wide. He weighed in at three hundred and twenty-five pounds, but ninety percent of that was muscle. “You here for the game?”
“No, I — um, I can’t stay,” Travis said. Looking past Gary to the rest of their team, he sighed. “I leave Miami for good in the morning, and I wanted a chance to say goodbye.”
“Wow,” Gary muttered, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d be gone for good, man.”
“Yeah, well; it’s time.” Travis shrugged his shoulders. “But I don’t want to hear that you guys are slacking off. You’re too damn good for that.”
“Yeah, we are.” Stepping through the group, Malcolm Rollins crossed his arms in front of himself and smirked. Young and cocky, Malcolm was the typical fresh-out-of-college rookie; he thought he was the best of the best. In his case, though, it happened to be true. Travis knew that Malcolm would lead the team well in his absence.
“You’re happy, right? With whatever is taking you from the game?” Malcolm asked.
Travis smiled when he thought about Penelope and Max. “Yeah, I am. Not to sound all emotional or whatever, but I’m gonna miss you guys. You were all here for me when I needed you. We’ve been through a lot together, but now it’s time for me to move on.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to regret leaving?” Nate Birch asked, one of the best receivers in the business. “When you’re sitting at home after work, with a beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other, are you sure you’re not gonna watch us win the championship and regret your decision to quit?”
Travis took a deep breath. “Honestly?”
“No, lie to me,” Nate scoffed. “Of course I want you to be honest.”
Laughing, Travis placed his hands on his hips. “No, I won’t regret leaving.”
“Liar,” Nate muttered.
“I have a son,” Travis said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He’d always been so careful not to let his personal life become a matter of locker-room gossip, but these guys had been there when he hadn’t had anyone else. “His name is Max. Until I went back to Texas last month, I didn’t even know he existed. His mother is the love of my life. She didn’t tell me about him because she knew that being a football player was my dream and she didn’t want Max to be the reason why I failed to achieve it. At first, I wanted to hate her for not giving me the choice to be his father for the first ten years of his life, but she was right. I would have tried to be there, but I would have let the game stop me from being the father that Max deserved. Now, I’m making the choice to put my family first, to be the kind of man that my son can be proud to call ‘Dad.’ Maybe none of you can understand how good that feels, but I won’t put the game before them — not again.”
“Damn it, you sound like a grown up,” Nate groused, dragging his hand through his shaggy blond hair.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later, right?” Travis laughed.
“I suppose, but it’s not gonna be the same without you.” Nate shot his eyes over to Malcolm. “No offense, dude.”
“Oh, offense was taken,” Malcolm snickered, before looking over at Travis. “But he’s right; it won’t be the same.”
“Look, you don’t need me out on that field.” Travis walked over to Malcolm, placed a hand on his shoulder, and addressed the rest of the team. “He’s going to lead the way for you now. Put your trust in him, have faith that he’s not just a young, dumb kid anymore.”
“Pretty sure I should take offense at that, too,” Malcolm muttered.
Travis smirked. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
“Alright, everyone, get your butts out on the field. I want you stretched and ready for warm-ups when I get out there.”
Looking over this shoulder, Travis saw James Jorkins leaning against the doorframe of his office.
“Now!”
The Sharks scrambled to their feet and hustled out of the
locker room, leaving Travis alone with their head coach. James Jorkins, known as JJ to the team, had been the one to draft Travis. He had thinning, sandy-brown hair and gray-blue eyes, and when he glared at the players, they’d swear he had the ability to turn them to stone. Travis and JJ had always gotten along, but that was before Travis had decided to leave the game. Now, he couldn’t tell what JJ was thinking, and that scared him a little.
“Well, I suppose I always knew this day was coming,” JJ muttered, shaking his head. A Louisiana native, he had deep, southern drawl. “You must be stupid or something for turning down my job offer.”
“I’m sorry, Coach, but —”
“Sorry doesn’t help me find someone to replace Jerry, does it?” JJ grumbled. “He recommended you for the position. Did Stewart bother telling you that little tidbit?”
“No,” Travis said.
JJ nodded. “Didn’t think so. But it wouldn’t have made any difference, would it?”
Travis smiled. “No.”
“Figured as much.” JJ sighed. “So this kid of yours, does he have your talent?”
“He’s better than I was at his age,” Travis replied. “Throws one hell of a spiral.”
“Does he love the game like you did?” JJ asked.
“I think so,” Travis murmured. “And I still love the game, JJ; I just can’t play anymore. And if you’d asked me to coach before I went back home, maybe I’d have taken the offer, but I can’t do it now. My priority has to be my family.”
JJ chuckled. “I know, McCoy, but it’s rare to find someone like you in the game anymore. Most of these guys are just concerned with how much money they’re making or how many magazine covers they’re on. You — you never lost sight of how it felt to play the game.” JJ paused and shook his head. “Do me a favor and teach your kid how that feels, okay? Show him that football isn’t about a paycheck, or, hell, even about winning a championship — though I have to admit, I want this year’s title bad.”
“You’ll get it. Those guys, they want it, too.” Travis walked over to JJ and stuck out his hand. “Thank you, JJ, for giving me a chance when I was just a dumb kid right out of college. You gave me a home when I needed one.”
JJ wrapped his fingers around Travis’s and sighed. “It’s been an honor to be your coach, McCoy. Take care of that family of yours. If I hear that you’re messing shit up in Texas, I will not hesitate to come out there and make you run for it. I’m sure that kid of yours would get a hoot out of you running from post to post.”
“Yes, sir,” Travis laughed. “I promise.”
“Good. Now, I’d better get out there before they think I’ve forgotten them.” JJ gave Travis’s hand another squeeze before releasing his grip and leaving Travis alone.
Taking a deep breath, Travis brought his hand up to his mouth and looked around the locker room. Like several other times since he’d come back to Miami, he found himself having a bittersweet moment. There’d been so many nights when he’d found himself alone in here, nursing an aching shoulder or a sore elbow. This room had borne witness to both his highest and lowest moments. He’d miss the Sharks, the stadium, and his team, but knowing that Penelope and Max were waiting for him made it easier to turn around and walk away with his head held high.
When he arrived back at his apartment, he found Russ sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, and propping a book up on his legs. All of Travis’s boxes were gone, and just two sleeping bags, a couple of pillows, and their luggage remained in the living room.
Kicking off his shoes, Travis sat down next to Russ. “How’d it go?”
“Well, they broke everything when they started throwing the boxes into the back of the truck, but not much I could do to stop them once they started. I figured you didn’t need any of that stuff anyway,” Russ said, shifting his eyes up to Travis.
“What?” Travis roared. “Dad, you told me that you could handle it!”
Russ burst out laughing. “You should see the look on your face. Oh, that’s priceless.”
“How can you laugh right now?” Travis fumed, trying to stand up.
Russ grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the floor.
“I trusted you, Dad!”
“Calm down, Travis,” Russ teased. “I was kidding. They were very careful with your stuff and told me that they’d have it at Penelope’s house bright and early Tuesday morning, just like you arranged.”
“That wasn’t funny,” Travis muttered.
“Oh, it was plenty funny. You’ve just lost your sense of humor.” Russ chuckled again before sighing. “How’d it go with the team?”
“It was . . ,” Travis paused to try to find the right word, “. . . harder than I thought it would be. I used to spend every day with those guys. We spent months on the road together. I’ve been to their weddings, celebrated the birth of their kids, and witnessed more than a few bitter break-ups. They’re my brothers, and I had to tell them goodbye.”
“You can always stay,” Russ suggested. “Penelope would probably move Heaven and Hell to get her and Max here with you if you asked.”
Travis nodded. “Yeah, she would, but I won’t let her. Clarendon is her home — their home. I refuse to take that from them.”
“Good. Now, why don’t you go call that pretty little thing and let me get back to my book?”
Smiling, Travis stood up, walked into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and called Penelope. After three rings, he heard her beautiful voice. “Hello.”
“Hey, baby,” Travis murmured.
“Travis!” she almost screamed. “God, I needed to hear your voice right now.”
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I let Max spend the night with Matthew. Figured maybe getting away from the house would distract him.”
“Is he still misbehaving?”
“No,” Penelope said, “but he’s not speaking to me much, either.”
Travis sighed, knowing that it was his fault.
“He misses you,” Penelope added. “So do I.”
“I know the feeling,” Travis mumbled. “I’m coming home. Everything is set, and Dad and I should be landing in Amarillo tomorrow night, just after eight.”
“Thank God,” she whimpered. “We’ll be waiting, baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The level of intensity in the three simple words surprised even him, but Travis knew that he meant each one of them.
***
Chapter Six
A Kink in the Link
Travis was up and dressed before the sun had begun to peek through the windows. He hadn’t slept much, often finding himself staring at the clock and wishing the minutes would pass by faster. Of course they didn’t; it was like that old saying: “A watched pot never boils.” By the time Russ had roused himself, Travis was feeling antsy and anxious.
“Calm down, boy, we’ve got plenty of time,” Russ groused when Travis huffed at him.
“I know; I’m just ready to go,” Travis mumbled, sure that he sounded like a three–year-old.
Russ laughed and stretched. “Okay, okay; give me a few minutes to work out the aches, and then we can go.”
“Just hurry,” Travis snarked.
Twenty minutes later, the two men gathered up their belongings and walked out of the apartment, closing and locking the door behind them. Mrs. Johnson was watering the plants in the lobby and looked up when they stepped off the elevator. She had lived in apartment 1A for forty years and had always greeted Travis with warmth. Reaching out, she wrapped her small, thin fingers around his wrist and sighed.
“Young one, what is this I hear about you leaving? Are you on crack?” she demanded.
He heard Russ laugh behind him. “No, ma’am, I’m not. I’m moving to Texas to be with my family.” Travis gestured to Russ. “Like my father here. He’s a little touched in the head, if you get my meaning. Can’t be trusted on his own anymore.”
Mrs. Johnson leaned over and looked at Russ, a tittering sound sl
ipping out from between her lips. “That’s a shame. He’s a stud.”
“Mrs. Johnson!” Travis exclaimed, gaping at the frail, seventy-year-old woman in shock.
“Don’t look at me like that, young one. I may be old but I’m still a woman and I have needs,” she teased.
Travis cringed.
“I’m gonna miss you around here, young one. You were a good boy and didn’t cause any trouble. I don’t want to hear that you’re messing that up back in Texas, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I give you my word.” Travis smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“Oh, I will.” Bringing her hand up to Travis’s cheek, she grinned. “Be happy, wherever your life takes you.”
“I will.”
Travis and Russ bid her goodbye and walked outside, finding their cab waiting for them. Cal had come by the night before and picked up Travis’s car. He’d agreed to keep it at his house until Travis could find a buyer. Travis had received a few offers, but they were low; seeing as he’d paid a pretty penny for it, he hadn’t wanted to take just any deal.
They placed their luggage in the trunk, climbed into the backseat, and directed the driver to take them to the airport. Half an hour later, the driver pulled up in front of Miami International Airport. They grabbed their luggage, and Travis paid the driver, pushing Russ’s arm out of the way when he attempted to shove a couple of twenties past him. Then the two men walked inside and got in line to check in for their flight.
It took them almost fifteen minutes to reach the front of the line. Once they’d checked their luggage and picked up their tickets, they made their way through security and down to their gate. Their flight was scheduled to leave at ten, and it was now just before nine. Travis leaned his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, trying to stifle the anxiety inside him.