Touchdown on Love

by Lorana Hoopes

  “Knock, knock.”

  The sound of Clara’s voice jolted him so much that he almost spilled the water anyway. How did she get in? He was certain he hadn’t given her a key.

  “Hope I didn’t startle you,” she said as she appeared in the kitchen. “The front door was still unlocked.”

  Ah, yes, he’d never locked the door after she left. To be fair, he had been exhausted and in too much pain, but it was a good thing he lived in a safe neighborhood.

  “Do you need help?” Her face folded in concern as she took in his precarious stance and only one crutch. Within seconds, she was by his side, handing him the other crutch and taking the coffee pot from him. “Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll take care of this?”

  He wanted to object, to tell her that he could do it himself, but the truth was that he couldn’t. Well, perhaps he could, but it would have taken twice as long and his ankle was already throbbing. “Thank you.”

  “Of course. I didn’t even think about how hard it might be to get around in the kitchen with two crutches. I’ll look today to see if they have one of those scooters you can place your knee on. At least then you’ll have the use of both arms for things like this.” She poured the water into the machine and pressed the button. After a few grunting and grinding noises, the soft sounds of coffee dripping into the pot filled the air.

  “Have you eaten?” she asked, barely missing a beat.

  “No.” He eased himself down into a chair at the table and sighed. “I was going to have cereal after I got the coffee started, but I realize that would be hard to do as well.”

  “Cereal?” Her nose wrinkled as if he’d just said something offensive. “You can’t just have cereal. How about I make you an omelet or some eggs and bacon instead?” Before he had a chance to say anything, she was opening the fridge and rummaging around.

  He chuckled at her take charge attitude. She might have changed a little since they had dated, but this personality trait definitely hadn’t faded. If anything, it might even be more pronounced, but somehow, he didn’t mind her taking care of him. He hated not being able to take care of himself, but having Clara around definitely wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  “Okay, if you want. I certainly won’t turn down a hot breakfast.”

  “Good.” Without missing a beat, she found a pan and started the bacon. Though she had only been here once before, she looked completely at ease in his kitchen. As the bacon sizzled, she rummaged in the cabinets for mugs, pulling two down and filling one with coffee for him and the other for herself. She added milk to her coffee, and then, without asking, she emptied two packets of sugar in his coffee - just the way he liked it - before setting it down in front of him.

  He stared up at her. “You remembered.” She hadn’t made coffee for him in years, but she hadn’t forgotten the way he liked it.

  Her face flushed, and she shrugged. “It’s an easy order to remember.”

  While that was true, the color on her face suggested there was more than that behind it. He bit back his smile and sipped the warm liquid. Could they try dating again? He still wasn’t sure exactly why they had split up in the first place, but he was starting to wonder if it mattered anymore. She’d claimed she didn’t want to hold him back, but that had made no sense to him at the time. She could never do that, and while there had to be a reason, he was no longer sure the reason was as important as he’d always made it out to be.

  He watched her bustle around his kitchen and realized he wanted to try again. He’d been lonelier than he’d known and having someone take care of him pointed a spotlight on that feeling.

  “You mind if I join you?” she asked as she placed two plates on the table and handed him a fork. “I wanted to check on you first thing so I kind of skipped breakfast.”

  “Aw, were you worried about me?”

  “A little,” Clara said with a shrug. “You were pretty quiet yesterday.”

  “Yeah, it was a rough day. I thought about what you said though about looking for the bright side, and I want you to know that I’m trying.”

  Her eyes shifted from his and down to her plate. “How about we pray and eat this before it gets cold?”

  After praying, they ate in silence, each lost in their own worlds. When they were both finished, she cleared the plates and placed them in the sink. “I have to run into work for a bit, but I don’t want you to worry about these dishes. I’ll wash them when I come back. Until then, I want you to relax back on the couch. Watch some television or something. Your rehab will start in a few days, and you’ll be busy enough then. You might as well take the day to rest.”

  He smiled at her mothering tone but didn’t fight her. “Okay, but let me give you something first.”

  A look of curiosity alighted on her face, but she followed him back to the living room. He picked up his key ring from where she had placed it last night and pulled the house key off. Then he held it out to her. “I get the feeling you’ll not only be here a lot but will need to come and go often.”

  Shaking her head, she held up her hand and took a step back. “I can’t take that, Mason. I can just ring the bell.”

  He tilted his head forward and fixed her with a pointed look. “And wait for me to hobble over to open it? What happens if I’m asleep or heaven forbid, I fall and injure myself again? I would feel better knowing you could get in if you needed to.”

  Hesitation tightened her features, and she chewed on her bottom lip but finally agreed. “Okay, I’ll take it, but only because it makes you feel better. Now, please rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can with the scooter, and maybe if you’re good, I’ll order pizza tonight.”

  His lips curved in a smile at the mention of their old joke. Always an athlete, his diet rarely afforded him the luxury of pizza, at least during the season. Only on rare occasions when he’d felt it was extra special had he indulged. With his playing time ended for the foreseeable future, now seemed like the perfect time for the hot cheesy goodness. “Well, I certainly won’t say no to that. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He crossed his fingers over his chest and then held them up like he was being sworn in.

  She helped him get re-situated on the couch and brought him a large bottle of water before promising again to return as soon as she could.

  When the front door closed behind her, Mason flicked on the TV, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts from returning to the beautiful strawberry blonde and the promise of her return.

  From his bag came the buzzing sound of his phone. He reached down and fished the phone out, unsurprised to see his parent’s number on the screen. They had probably been calling him since the accident yesterday. In fact, he was surprised they hadn’t sent Duke over to gather information for them.

  “Hey Mom, Dad,” he said, putting the phone to his ear.

  “Mason David Dixon, how dare you not call us to let us know you were okay?” His mother’s voice was shrill and filled with more anger than he’d ever heard in it before.

  Mason sighed. “Mom, I was rushed to the hospital from the stadium. I didn’t have my phone. By the time I got home, it was nearly two in the morning.”

  “I don’t care what time it is; you call your mother when you get injured on national TV. I was up half the night worried about you. I must have called you every hour on the hour, and Duke didn’t seem to know what was going on either. Does that team not alert your family?”

  “I’m sure they would have had it been more serious,” Mason began but his mother cut him off before he could finish.

  “And how serious is it?”

  “It’s a partial tear in my Achilles tendon, Mom.” Mason rubbed his hand across his forehead. He loved his mother, but sometimes she was so overbearing. “They put on an ankle cast, and the doctor said it will take four to eight weeks to recover.”

  “Four to eight weeks? I’m coming to help.”

  Mason’s head shot up. The thought of his mother crowding in his space for two months was not only terrifyin
g, but it was not happening. “No, Mom, I’m fine. I’ve got Duke close by, and Clara is checking in on me.”

  “Clara? Your ex-girlfriend, Clara?” The tone in her voice had shifted, but he wasn’t exactly sure what the new tone was. Disbelief? Condescension?

  “She’s an athletic trainer for the team, Mom. She was with me at the hospital yesterday, and she’ll be checking in on me until I’m cleared to play again.”

  “Can’t you get someone else?” his mother asked, and he thought he could finally place the tone. Distrust? He supposed that was natural since Clara had broken his heart.

  “No, I can’t get someone else, Mother. That’s not how it works in pro football. She’s the trainer assigned to me, and I can’t just tell them I don’t want to work with her.” Besides, he did want to work with her. If he had just listened to her, he might not be in this situation.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful then, Mason. You know what happened last time with her.”

  Except that was the problem. He didn’t know what happened last time. Not really, but he was determined to find out.

  17

  Clara

  It was early afternoon when Clara arrived at the training facility. Justin had told her she could come in late, but she hoped he had actually meant it. Her body had needed the rest for sure, and she was glad she had made the stop to check on Mason as well. Otherwise, his morning might have been disastrous.

  “Ah, there you are,” Justin said as soon as she entered the training office. “I was hoping you would make it in today to give me an update.”

  “Sorry, I’m late. It was a rather late night. I got Mason situated last night or rather early this morning.” It had been nearly two am when she’d finally gotten back to her own place. “I stopped by on my way here as well, and I think we need to get him one of those scooters. He was trying to make coffee and hop around with one crutch.” She shook her head. “It was comical, but it was also dangerous.”

  Justin ran a hand across his chin. “I see. Well, we can certainly get him one of those. How about his pain?”

  “He was definitely feeling more today than yesterday, but it didn’t seem unbearable. We do need to get him an appointment to get fitted for a boot though.”

  “If I give you the doctor’s number, can you take care of that? I know caring for him wasn’t really what you signed up for, but it sounds like he’s going to need some full time help for a while.”

  Clara nodded. “Of course, sir, whatever I can do to help.”

  “Great, let’s see if we can find one of those scooters, and then I’ll get you the doctor’s number.”

  She followed him to the athletic training closet where they kept most of their supplies. After a bit of rummaging around, they managed to find a scooter. It was older and dusty from no use, but it was functional and would keep him from falling over while he tried to make food.

  “You might ask for a better one when you take him in for his appointment, but this will do until then.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll get that appointment set now.”

  When her stomach began rumbling a few hours later, she performed a final check to make sure she hadn’t missed anybody she needed to see - Justin had lightened her load to allow her more time to check on Mason, but she didn’t want to miss anything. Then she grabbed the scooter and headed out to her favorite pizza place to grab a pie to go.

  Half an hour later, she was pulling into Mason’s driveway, the garlic and sauce smell from the pizza sending her stomach rumbling into overdrive. Her mouth watered as she tucked the scooter under one arm and held the pizza box carefully in the other.

  At the front door, she had to put the scooter down to engage the key. Using it still felt awkward, especially since they weren’t a couple, but it was certainly easier than trying to ring the bell and waiting for him to appear.

  When the lock turned, she pushed the door open and set the pizza box down on a nearby table in order to retrieve the scooter. “Mason, it’s Clara,” she hollered as she entered. Perhaps announcing herself would feel a little less awkward.

  “Come on in.” His muffled voice carried in from another room.

  She set the scooter down, locked the door behind her, and picked up the pizza box again before continuing into the kitchen. A moment later, Mason appeared from a hallway she assumed led to a bathroom.

  “That smells delicious, and I am famished.”

  “Good, why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll get us some plates and drinks.”

  With a soft smile, Mason held up his hands in surrender and sat down at the table. “You know I feel bad just sitting here and making you do all the work.”

  Clara tossed him a teasing smile before pulling two plates out of the cupboard. “Well, I brought a scooter home for you, so tomorrow all bets are off.”

  “Is that right?”

  Clara took the plates to the table and then grabbed two Cokes from the fridge. “The scooter is not a free pass, just so you know. It’s to help you get around; it is not an excuse to be stupid.”

  A look of mock shock covered Mason’s face. “I would never.”

  She set the Cokes down, folded her arms, and fixed him with a pointed stare. Did he really think she didn’t remember all the stupid things he had done in high school? “Oh, yes, you would. I remember that time in high school when you decided to jump between the roofs of the sheds at my house just to see if you could. You almost fell and broke a leg then.”

  Mason’s smile widened as he chuckled. “Okay, that was pretty stupid. As was the time I tried truck bed surfing with Derek.”

  Clara’s eyes widened. “You did what? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’m sure the visual in my head right now is close enough.”

  A deep laugh barreled out of Mason’s throat. “Probably. Is that why you really broke up with me? You were afraid I’d do something stupid and sully your name?”

  Though he was teasing, his words hit like a punch to Clara’s face, and her smile faltered. “Mason, no, of course not.”

  His own smile fell as he realized the mood had changed. “Then, why, Clara? I’ve always wondered. You said it was because you would hold me back, but we both know that’s not the truth.”

  Clara sighed. She didn’t want to get into the conversation with him now. In fact, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to, but this was the second time he’d asked, and she couldn’t keep putting him off forever. “Mason, it was so long ago.”

  “But you have to still remember. I mean you’re the one who broke it off. There had to have been a reason. Maybe it’s stupid, but I need to know.”

  There was a reason. There definitely was. But telling Mason that her father hadn’t wanted them together, and that he’d offered to pay for Mason’s college if she broke it off wasn’t going to make him feel any better. She hated lying, but maybe a small lie would end the discussion for now.

  She took a deep breath. “I’d always heard that relationships grew strained during college years. Especially if the two people went to different colleges. I know it was kind of selfish, but I wanted to enjoy that time, and I wanted you to as well.”

  Mason’s eyes bored into hers as if searching for her truthfulness. While that wasn’t the whole truth, it was what she had told herself when she broke things off. She’d continued telling herself those words so often that they felt a lot like the truth.

  “I guess that sort of makes sense, though I have to tell you, I would have enjoyed college more with you by my side.”

  She felt the same way, but she wasn’t sure telling him that right now would be the right thing to do. Instead, she decided to change the subject. “Your pizza’s getting cold.”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at her, and she could tell they would be discussing this more later, but he agreed to drop the topic. For now. “Fine. Do you want to pray for us?”

  Clara bowed her head. “Lord, thank you for this food and for good company. Please help Mason’s injury heal quickly, so he can get b
ack to what he loves. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Mason echoed.

  They ate their pizza in silence, but Clara couldn’t help sneaking glances in his direction. She had thought she was doing the best thing for him when she’d agreed to break up with him, but now she wasn’t so sure. What if they could have made it work? What if he could have gone to college without her father’s money?

  “What are you thinking?” Mason asked, catching her staring at him.

  “I was thinking that we should watch a movie. What do you have around here?” Clara busied herself with removing their plates and putting away the leftover pizza.

  “It’s the twenty-first century, Clara. I can pretty much get anything on demand.”

  Right. She knew that. Though she was living more modestly now, she’d grown up with money and her father had bought every channel he could. Now, he had probably added all the apps as well. Heaven forbid he miss his favorite show.

  “Okay then, what have you been wanting to see?” She cleared the last of the remaining trash from the table and handed him his crutches.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Really? You’ll watch anything I want to watch?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because you never let me choose the movie in high school,” he said with a laugh. “You always made me watch those sappy Hallmark love stories which I did because I cared for you, but if it’s my choice…” he shrugged, “then we’re watching Rocky.”

  “Rocky? Are you kidding me? That movie is old.”

  “It’s not old. It’s a classic.”

  She pushed his shoulder lightly. “Classic is just another word for old.”

  “Hey now, you better watch it.” He halted his movement and turned to face her, but his voice still held it’s teasing tone.