by Leigh, Anne
“Coach, your new quarterback doesn’t know shit,” I heard Vedder complaining to Coach Benson on the sidelines. I was supposed to throw the ball to Vedder. I mistook the play as a running play and handed it off to Shavon Jenkins. It was my fault. My other two faults were that I overthrew the ball at one time, and the other I got sacked by the defense because I held on to the ball too long. I was not in my element. Maybe it was the new surroundings, the new team, or all the new shit. Fuck. I needed to get in my zone. Fast. Our first game was in a week.
Coach Benson said something to Vedder. Vedder threw me a smug look before he jogged off to the sidelines and talked with the other guys. I sat on the bench and hung my head low with my fingers grabbing at my hair in frustration. I couldn’t wait to get home and video chat with Sedona. She has been in New York for a week and a half now. I needed to hear her voice and see her face right now.
“Zander, let’s talk in twenty,” Coach Benson ordered. I raised my head and nodded.
After taking a quick shower I walked into Coach’s room.
“How’s it going?” was his first question. He was an unassuming guy. The desk in his office had a picture of his wife and two children. Folders were piled on top of his desk and a chalkboard was on the wall, filled with offensive and defensive plays.
“Okay,” I said, meeting his eyes.
“It’s a different ballgame in the NFA than in college, huh?” His dark eyes were analyzing, gauging my reaction.
“Yes, very different.”
“You’re a good quarterback, Zander,” he started. “That’s why you’re the number one pick. In time you’ll probably become one of the best there is. Right now though, I can see that you’re struggling, you’re not in rhythm and you’re not feeling the turf.”
“I feel the turf,” I replied. What I’m not feeling are my teammates.
“Huh,” he said reflectively. “Your throws are good but not great. You’re not calling out the right plays and you’re not following through. Tell me, is that ‘being one with the turf’?”
I couldn’t argue. He was right.
“Here’s the thing,” he grabbed a pen from his desk and pointed it at the board. “Do you see all that?” I glanced at the chalkboard. “Those X’s and O’s will not matter if the plays are not executed. They will just be drawings on the wall if they’re not carried out on the field. You are the quarterback for this team. You were hired because the management and I believed that you could get the job done. You’ve got to start getting it into your system that you were picked to lead this team from being the 40th team in the NFA to number one. If you don’t believe that then the rest of the team won’t.”
I swallowed, and determinedly I said, “Thank you for the trust. I do believe that we can be number one.”
He stood up. I followed suit.
Before leaving I said, “You’re right coach. I am the quarterback. I should start acting like one.”
I didn’t get to talk to Sedona until 9:30 that night. She went out with her roommate and when she finally called I was slumped on the bed and could barely hold my head up. She listened to me as I gave her a short and sleepy recap of the day’s events. Even in the blurry state of my sleepiness, her face lit up the screen of my phone. She was so beautiful to me.
I must have dozed off longer than I wanted, because when I woke up it was the next morning. Sedona had left her computer on. It was a good thing that my phone was charging on the wall. I saw her image on the screen, sleeping peacefully in her pink pajamas. The top of her shirt had ridden up, exposing the smooth skin of her pregnant belly. A sense of serenity washed over me at the sight.
Before I left the house for a quick jog I texted to her. Miss you. Love you. Can’t wait to see you. Kisses to u and baby.
It didn’t matter how bad my day went. It just took one look or one word from my woman to make me feel that everything was okay in the world.
Chapter Seven
“I long for your presence and crave for your touch.”
Sedona
“Mackenzie, you forgot to give the patient her pain medications.” The way he said those words increased my ire. In this hospital, everyone called each other by their last name. It was not part of the policy; it was just the way it was.
I faced him and raised an eyebrow. “I did not Dr. Klinefelder. Ms. Morris received the I.V. morphine that you ordered twenty minutes ago. She is not due for pain medication for another hour, just as your order states.”
His dark grey eyes honed in on me with the right side of his mouth turned up. I wanted to grab the chart that I was holding and thump it on top of his perfectly gelled head.
My nursing mentor, Nessie Vang, even commented that he always seemed to be on the lookout for me. She was a Filipino-Vietnamese woman who was super smart, strict, and a great mentor. I’ve heard that nurses ate their young. Well, not me. Vang swallowed me whole. Some of the nurses called her the ‘terror nurse.’ Sure, she was very strict and set in her ways, but she was also gentle when she taught me. She always explained to me the rationale of why things were done the way they were. The lives of our patients were in our hands, and there was no room for error. I was lucky to have her as my preceptor.
Vang said that Dr. Klinefelder was a nice guy. He probably was, but not to me.
“I was just testing you.” Now his words were cajoling.
I turned my back on him, but I continued to feel his stare on me.
He was always finding a reason to talk to me; to annoy me, to put me on the spot, or to ask me out.
Harassment was a serious offense. If he kept this up, I would go to the HR department and file a complaint against his butt.
Leonard Klinefelder was the bane in my existence. He was a handsome guy with his grey eyes, tall frame, and dark hair. He had the kind of look that screamed, ‘Look at me. I’m young, handsome, and I’m a doctor. What else could you want?’ Ever since I told him no he had been hounding me with his ‘superior’ physician skills and status. When we were around other staff he was always trying to impress me with medical lingo, and he went on and on about it.
I thought he was done quizzing me. With him I was always wrong.
“When is your next break?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” I moved towards the cabinet that housed the patients’ charts.
It was just the two of us at the nursing station of the Cardiac Telemetry Floor. I was assigned to watch the patient’s monitors that corresponded to the monitors inside their rooms while some of the staff was on break. Dr. Klinefelder always seemed to time himself perfectly. He was around the unit when I was alone at a certain spot or I had no choice but to stay where I was at.
“Come on, Sedona,” he urged. “It’s just lunch or dinner.”
I stared at his profile. He was wearing a blue plain shirt with tie, black pants, and a white lab coat.
“Please do not call me by my first name,” I scolded. “It is not professional.”
He ignored me. “So, maybe after your shift today we go grab something to eat?”
He was so persistent. I had the urge to announce to him that I was pregnant, that I had a smoking hot fiancé, and that he had no chance with me. But I did not want to do those things because I did not want to stoop to his level. At four and a half months pregnant my loose scrubs still hid my growing belly. Most of my co-workers knew I was pregnant. Obviously the news did not reach the ears of Dr. Pompousness. I could not wear my engagement ring in the hospital, because jewelry was not allowed, and I did not want to lose my ring. Plus he should have taken the clue that I was not single after I told him that I was not available. The only reason I even said that was to have him back off. He did graduate medical school, so he must have some functioning brain cells, right?
“I think you’re just trying to play hard to get.” His arrogance was higher than the Statue of Liberty.
“Look, Doctor,” I said, exasperated. “I will never go out to dinner or lunch with
you. Please get that through your head.”
I heard the pitter patter of feet closing in. Thank goodness, the rest of the staff was back. I got out of my seat and ignored him.
I gave report to Vang and let her know I was going on my lunch break for thirty minutes. I could not stand being in Mr.-I’m-So-Cool-Now-Date-Me’s presence any longer.
I texted Zander as I sat on the bench outside the hospital’s cafeteria. He was probably getting ready for his game tonight, but he responded right away.
Zander: How are my two babies doing today?
Me: I’m doing great. Baby did some flip flops in my tummy this morning but it’s okay now.
Zander: Oh no. Still feeling sick?
Me: I’m okay. Just trying to finish this shift. Ready for the game tonight?
Zander: You know me, babe. Always ready.
Me: I know
Zander: Miss u
Me: Miss u more
Zander: Me too
Me: Have I told you lately I love you?
Zander: No
I just told him many times this morning.
Me: Well, I do. I LOVE, LOVE you!
Zander: Love, love you too. To the infinite power
Me: You mean, infinity? There’s no infinite power
Zander: Whatever, u know what I mean
Me: I do. Alright babe, I’ll talk to u later. Gotta go back to work
Zander: K, love you. Talk to u after the game
Me: K
The rest of the day went by quickly. Doctor-Can’t-Take-A-Hint was no longer in the unit when I came back up. Whew! What a relief.
I really had no idea why he was singling me out. I was sure there were lots of women here who’d return his interest with no problem. I was just not one of them. I had my man. I did not even dare talk to Zander about him. Knowing Zander, and the jealous streak that only showed up when it came to me, it would come out and bite me in the rear. As long as Doctor of Arrogance kept his paws off of me I was going to be okay.
*****
Chapter Eight
“The weight of the world may be put on my shoulders; you lighten the load and make it possible for me to carry it.”
Zander
This was my dream.
Since I turned fourteen I had envisioned this moment.
Nothing could compare to the feeling of when your dream and reality collided.
I looked up at the stands. Somewhere out there, in a sea of people, was my woman. It was too far for me to see her. She did not want to be in a private suite to watch the game. She said that she liked the feel of being in the crowd. She arrived four hours ago from New York, but I haven’t seen her yet because I had to prep for the game. But she was here for me. She did not want to miss this.
From the sidelines I saw John in the huddle with the defensive line. It was 3rd and 8 on our 40-yard line. The Raptors’ offensive line took formation on the field. From my perspective, it looked like it was going to be a running play up the middle. Our defense read it perfectly. As they snapped the ball, the Raptors’ running back started up the middle and our defense broke through the offensive line and tackled their running back behind the line of scrimmage. It was a one yard loss for the Raptors. 4th and 9. Change of possession. They were going to punt the ball to us.
After the punt we got the ball at our 20-yard line.
As I stood next to Coach Benson he gave me the play. “Zander, we’re going to run the wheel route. Their defense will scramble on that one.”
I soaked in this moment. I was nervous, but I was prepared.
All the drills, the training, the late nights of watching video footage and studying the playbook, the meetings with coach and the team; they all converged to this moment.
I nodded my head at Coach, stepped towards the field, and my offensive line and I huddled. I gave them the play and they acknowledged it.
We broke huddle formation. I stepped behind my center, Rennick, and scanned the Raptors’ defense for possible inconsistencies to ensure that I didn’t have to audible the play.
I gave Rennick the go ahead to snap the ball. The play was in motion. It all had to work like clockwork. Precision was key to this play. As I dropped back to pass, holding on to the ball tightly, I saw the defense rushing towards me. My two wide receivers, Johnson and Cornick, ran their routes perfectly, crossing paths with each other to confuse the defense of the Raptors, which was exactly what the play called for. I saw Cornick get separated from the cornerback. I rifled the ball and threw a perfect, arching spiral.
Cornick caught it at the Raptors 25-yard line and ran untouched towards the end zone.
Touchdown Minnesota!
I raised my right hand up in the air and heard the yells, screams, and the roars in the stadium. The jumbotron was flashing “TOUCHDOWN”.
I breathed out. My teammates were running towards me as I approached the sidelines. I heard “Great job” and “Good throw” all across the board.
Coach patted me in the back and I took a bottled water from the water boy and splashed it on my face. This was my moment, my dream.
My first pass in the NFA. There were going to be other moments, other throws, other passes, and other touchdowns.
But I will savor this one for a while. Well, at least for the next few minutes, until we get the ball back. I looked up at the stands again. Somewhere out there, Sedona was standing and cheering for me.
She knew what this one was for. I pressed my right hand, where my condor tattoo was, close to my chest. This one was for my sister; I knew she was watching me from above. She was cheering and saying, “Great throw, Z. Now get your ass back out there and throw another one.”
*****
Sedona
Zander’s first game was a loss for the Minnesota Fox. By a field goal. Carolina Raptors won 30-27.
I knew he was going to sulk about this one. He wanted that win. He always wanted a win.
It was what drove him to be the best at what he did, what pushed him to wake up in the early mornings and run for an hour, even before he went to regular trainings. It was what made him stay up late into the night to watch video footage of the opposing team’s defense, what made him stay away from me when all he wanted was to be by my side.
After showing my special guest pass to the security guard, I waited on the chair close to the team’s locker room.
Zander’s head was down as he walked towards me. He was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt with black pants and black shoes. John, in a brown dress shirt and dark brown pants, was walking beside him. They were both dressed in professional attire. The NFA had strict regulations on players wearing professional attire before and after games. If they didn’t then the players would have to pay a fine.
“Hi, babe,” I said, touching the side of my face to his shoulder. He smelled clean and masculine. I smiled at John, who gave me a nod and walked ahead.
Zander pulled me to his side and lowered the side of his face closer to my mouth. “Hey,” he said, his voice somber. “I have to do a couple of interviews, and then I’ll be right back.”
I nodded and hugged him tighter. “You did great. You threw three touchdowns.”
He looked at me with dull eyes. “I know. But we lost.”
Some of his teammates passed us by. I stood up on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “What matters is that you did your best. I know you did. Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win.” I placed my hand up against his chest. “You gave it your best shot. And remember? You promised Chrissy that your first touchdown in the NFA was going to be for her. I know she’s smiling at you for that one.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I know.”
I clasped his hand against mine and slowly walked towards the press room for the post-game news conference. I had a feeling Zander was going to be grilled by the vultures in that room. They were going to drill him on how his team lost, on how they could have won, and on how things went wrong for the Minnesota Fox. It was all a part of his role as a quarte
rback.
I stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “I’m proud of you Zander. I always will be.” I placed his right hand on my stomach inconspicuously, so as not to alert the media of our little bun-in-the-oven, and whispered, “Baby’s proud of you too, and it’s saying, ‘Daddy’s an awesome quarterback.’”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I patted his butt and said, “Now get in there so I can take you home.”
He stood straighter, flashed his mega-watt smile, and walked inside the room.