“Has she forgiven you yet?”
“Let’s put it this way: I apologized. She puts up with a lot from the three men in her life. She accepted my apology, but wait until she finds out what else I’ve got up my sleeve.”
“What might that be?” Drew asked.
“The shoe people are visiting our house tomorrow night. I’m taking the twins out for ice cream with their grandpas while my wife, her sister, and our mamas sip champagne, eat appetizers, and buy some shoes.”
“That’s going to get expensive,” Drew said.
“She’s worth it. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.” The other guys at the table teased Brandon a little, but he grinned at them. “My mama didn’t raise any stupid children. With that, I’d better be on my way home. Thanks for the beer, Drew, and we’ll be here at nine tomorrow for the interview, if that will work.”
“Sure,” Drew said. He gestured toward his shoulder. “I’ll try to find something to wear.”
“The production assistants will take care of that. Don’t worry about it.”
Brandon got to his feet, shook hands with everyone, and hurried out to his car.
Drew walked back into the dining room, picked up the Tiffany’s bag, and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’ll put a shake in the freezer for your mom, Son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Drew trudged up two flights of stairs that he would have run up last week. He needed a little time to think. Maybe he needed to solicit advice from McKenna: The guy was obviously crazy in love with his wife, and he knew they had had to make some pretty big adjustments so his opera diva wife could keep working after their sons were born. If he wanted to get anywhere with Kendall (after he apologized profusely for hanging up on her) he’d better be willing to make some compromises himself.
He tapped on the guest room door next to his bedroom. “Mom? Are you awake?”
“Come on in, honey,” she said.
He shoved the door open with his shoulder while hiding the little carrier bag behind his back. “Are you okay? You were pretty upset earlier. I’m sorry for what I did.”
He saw his mom’s smile in the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table. “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t been sleeping well since we got here, and I . . .” She shook her head and flinched a little at the movement. “I have a headache.”
“Do you need some aspirin or something?” He leaned down to stash the bag next to the nightstand while she wasn’t looking.
“That might help.”
“I’ll get it,” he said. He walked into the attached bedroom, filled a drinking glass with water, and grabbed the ibuprofen bottle out of the medicine cabinet. He could still carry stuff in his right hand as long as he didn’t try to lift his arm or anything, which hurt like a mofo. He needed some more medicine himself, but he could do this for his mom first.
He sat down on the side of the bed where she lay, put the drinking glass down on the nightstand, and said, “Do you need me to help you sit up a little?”
“I’m okay,” she said. He thought she looked pale and worn out, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. She pulled herself into a sitting position. He gave her a dose of the ibuprofen and the water glass.
“Do you need me to shut off the light for you?” he said.
“No. I’ll be much better in a few minutes.” She slid back into the pillows and gazed up at him. “How are you feeling?”
“My shoulder hurts. I’ll go back downstairs and get the prescriptions I brought home.” She started to sit up and he said, “No, Mom, I can handle it. You rest. Do you need me to get that blanket over there for you?” He nodded at the folded throw that usually hung over the back of an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room.
“I’d like that, honey.”
He could get the blanket just fine and bring it back to her, but spreading it over her was a different story with one usable hand.
“This is harder than I thought,” he said after struggling with it for a minute or so.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. She managed to toss the blanket over her legs and said, “Why don’t you relax here with me for a few minutes?”
“Sure, Mom.” Maybe he’d retreat to the big chair in the corner. He was surprisingly tired after doing nothing more strenuous than riding around in a car and eating a cheeseburger. Maybe he could get a cat nap while his mom rested.
His cell phone rang.
He reached in, pulled it out, and noted it was the Sharks’ headquarters. He clicked on “talk.” He hit “speaker” so his mom could hear.
“Hey, Drew, how are you feeling?” Coach Stewart said. “I’m here with the coaches and the conditioning staff. We’re wondering how the trip home went.”
“Thanks for calling. It’s nice to hear from you guys. As far as the trip home, everything’s fine and I’ll be taking some painkillers in a little while.”
He heard some male chuckling in the background and the coach said, “They’ll actually help you heal faster. We understand the home health care nurse will be at your house tomorrow to help you with whatever you need.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re probably wondering why else we’re calling,” the coach said. “Drew, we have every hope you’re going to recover from this and come back even stronger and ready to play by next season, but we’re putting you on IR today. I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else but me.” He saw his mom put a hand over her mouth. Tears rose in her eyes. He had to look away; if he saw his mom’s tears, he couldn’t get through this. “The guys miss you already and are looking forward to your being here to rehab and run as soon as possible.”
He heard one of the trainers in the background. “The minute we get a sign-off from your doctor, we’ll be in the training room with you. We’re going to work you hard, but you’ll be ready. We promise.”
Drew swallowed past the gigantic lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
“If you have questions or you need anything, please call us. We’ll be checking in on you, also. We’ll get through this together,” the coach said.
Drew knew he was still speaking. He made what must have sounded like the correct comments about motivation and not letting this thing beat him. A few minutes later, they hung up and he sat numbly, phone still clutched in his hand.
His mom sat up and gingerly wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears falling on his good shoulder as he slipped one arm around her. His phone fell into the bedclothes.
KENDALL FELT THE cold fist of dread in her stomach as she walked into the Miners’ offices. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Today would be (hopefully) mostly mopping up from the day before yesterday’s press conference. She also would be expected to observe the workouts of the three players brought in by the new director of football personnel. She’d expected all hell to break loose when she fired Ron, but so far, her e-mail and voicemail had been remarkably quiet.
It was early. There were plenty of chances for things to go to hell in a hand basket.
When she wasn’t dwelling on the thousand and one things that needed to get done today, she was still thinking about Drew. It was all she could do to not curl up in the airline seat like a wounded animal and cry. She was asleep last night when her head hit the pillow, and this morning, she had to face the facts: If she was in his shoes, she’d be pissed. She’d more or less shown him that a job was more important to her than anyone or anything else in her life, and if she really cared about him, she would act like it.
He shouldn’t have hung up the phone on her, but she got why he did it. She owed him an apology, but he owed her one too.
She’d wanted to get an early start this morning. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor of the corridor outside of her office. It was seven AM, and her office door was ajar. The light was on. Who the hell would be in her office at seven? Sydney wasn’t usually in until after ten AM each morning due to her cla
ss schedule.
Maybe she should back away from her office and call for help. The Miners’ private security force was in the office twenty-four hours a day now. Whoever was in her office had the electronic card that got them past the locks and a photo ID badge.
Maybe it was the cleaning crew. Maybe it was someone who’d been in there last evening. Maybe it was one of the security guys. She crept over to the partially open door and peeked through it.
Sydney sat at her desk, tapping away at her laptop.
Kendall shoved her office door open. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at school, you goofball!”
Sydney grinned at her. She picked up a tall iced latte and shook the cup a little. “Got you some coffee, boss. And a pastry.”
Kendall dropped into one of the chairs in front of her desk and took the proffered Starbucks bag from Sydney. “Are you sure?” Sydney’s workload was going to double, and Kendall didn’t want her to drop out of school from sheer frustration. “Maybe I should get you an assistant of your own.”
“I can handle it,” Sydney said. “It’s just like eating an elephant.”
“One bite at a time,” Kendall said. She raised her iced latte cup in a silent toast.
“Oh, hell, yeah. Let’s get some shit done.”
DREW WOKE UP after a restless night and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Seconds later, the phone his mom must have brought in and put on his nightstand rang.
His agent, Lance, sounded too damn cheerful for six AM Seattle time.
“How are you doing today?”
“Everything hurts. You do know it’s six o’clock here, right?”
“Sorry, guy. I wanted to let you know that the Sharks’ putting you on IR has hit the media, and the team is paying out the guaranteed portion of your contract.”
“Okay. Coach called me yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?”
“I was a little busy. Hey, Lance, now that I have you on the phone, I have a question or two.”
“What’s up?” Lance said.
“One: I know I have to show up for the home games for the rest of the season. Am I required to go to away games?”
“No. You’re expected to rehab.”
“Does it matter where I rehab?”
“I’m guessing the Sharks might like it if you stayed in the Seattle area—”
“I’d like to see if I can work with a rehab center in California. I’ll fly in for the games.”
“Rehab in another team’s facility? Please don’t tell me you’re considering doing this at the Miners.”
“No, but there’s at least two other teams in the area. What are your thoughts?”
“I’m guessing this means that you’re interested in spending time with Kendall Tracy.”
Drew pulled in a breath. “She can’t move. It’ll give us a chance to decide if it’s worth working out the logistics to continue. I also need to face facts. I may not play again.”
He was proud of himself: At least he could get the words out without bawling like a baby. He didn’t know who he was without football, and it might be a while before he discovered what he’d like to do. Fortunately, between his contracts and endorsements, he’d saved enough to take his time and figure out what the future might hold for him professionally.
“Come on, McCoy. You’re going to play again. Do you want me to approach the Sharks with your rehab plans?”
“I can do it. I’ll bring you in if I need backup.”
“Okay, then. Is there anything else I can do right now?”
“Nope,” Drew said. “Thanks for listening.” After a few more pleasantries, his agent hung up.
Drew had tossed and turned most of the night last night, thinking and weighing his options. Even the pain pills didn’t knock him out. The best plan of attack was to rehab and train like he was intent on going back to the Sharks, while preparing for the fact he may not. He knew he wanted Kendall to be included in every plan he made. He’d crawl on hands and knees to California with a duffle bag of clothing between his teeth if she wanted him to, but he hoped some sincere groveling might work as well.
Three o’clock in the morning was a great time to think in an almost-silent house and straighten out his priorities. While his parents slept on in the room next door, he calculated and thought. He knew the only way he might get at least one of the things he wanted—creating a happy family—was accepting the fact that family might be living an hour outside of San Francisco, instead of in a 5800-square foot house on Seattle’s Eastside. He’d bought a family house, but it was never going to be a home as long as Kendall didn’t live here with him.
He remembered the night his teammate Zach bought the engagement ring for his now-wife, Cameron. He remembered Zach’s trembling hands as he pulled the box out of his shorts pocket and showed a roomful of his teammates a gigantic ring, and the joy in his face as he told them he was in love. He reflected on the fact he’d watched their romance bloom from one dorm room over during training camp.
His and Kendall’s love story wasn’t going to happen under the noses of eighty guys. It would be just the two of them, and he would woo her until she fell in love with him. He’d known her a month, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her already. If that was love, he’d take it, and he’d water it, feed it, and let it grow like the flowers in her backyard garden.
He grabbed his phone and tapped out a text to Kendall with one finger.
I am so sorry I hung up on you. Will you forgive me? I miss you.
He could take a nap later. He stood up from the bed, pulled a suitcase out of his closet, and started packing.
HE HEARD FOOTSTEPS from the room next door, his dad’s voice as he talked with his wife, and Drew’s mom tapped at his door as she poked her head in.
“Honey, are you awake already?”
“Yeah, Mom. How are you this morning?”
She looked at the mostly-packed suitcase on his bed and the scrawled page of notes he’d made with his non-dominant hand during the night last night. She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe you should lie down for a while. You need some rest,” she said. “What’s going on here?”
“Is Dad in the shower?”
“No. He’s downstairs making coffee.”
Drew patted the bed. “Mom, sit down. I’ll be right back.”
He walked into the guest room, grabbed the little Tiffany’s bag from its hiding place, and came back to his room. His mom stared at the bag.
“I have some stuff to tell you, but first, this is for you. Thank you for always being there for me, Mom. I really appreciate it, and I wanted you to have this.”
His mom’s eyes were huge. “Is this from Tiffany’s?”
“Yes, Mom. Open it,” he prompted.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” He nudged her with his good shoulder. “Open it.”
His mom bit her lower lip as she reached into the bag and extracted a palm-sized robin’s-egg-blue box tied with a double-faced white satin ribbon. “It’s so pretty I don’t want to take the ribbon off,” she said.
“You won’t see what’s inside until you do,” Drew teased.
She admired it for a few minutes and finally pulled the end of the ribbon, which slipped off of the box easily. She took off the lid and let out a gasp.
A sterling silver charm bracelet was nestled inside, featuring a heart-shaped charm that read “Mom” in flowing script. The only other charm on the bracelet was a small, intricately detailed football.
He owed McKenna some more money, but he could take care of that later. He watched his mom take the bracelet out of the box and hold it in her palm. “Oh, honey. It’s beautiful,” she said.
“They have a lot of charms, Mom. Maybe we kids should get you one for every special occasion.”
“You don’t have to do that,” his mom protested, but her eyes sparkled. She might need two or three bracelets by the time he and his siblings were throu
gh. She unclasped the bracelet and held it out to him. “Help me put it on?” she asked.
It took a few minutes and some maneuvering, but he managed to clasp it around her wrist. She kissed his cheek.
“Thanks, honey. I love it.”
“If you want gold, we can take it back—”
“No. I love this.” She let out a happy sigh.
“I also wanted to apologize for upsetting you yesterday.”
“You didn’t upset me. I wasn’t feeling well and I–I freaked out, as you kids would say.” She fingered the little football charm as she spoke. “I know your love life is your own business. You’re a grown man and you should make your own decisions. We really like Kendall, though. Is there any way to patch it up?”
“I’m working on it,” he said. “You and Dad have made me think over the last couple of weeks.”
“We’ve been fighting like kids. Really? I’m a little worried about that.”
“Mom, it’s not what you think. I’ve been thinking about the fact I always thought I wanted a wife that stayed home too, and it was pretty unfair of me to expect her to fulfill all my needs and wants, and none of her own.”
His mom took his hand in her smaller, work-roughened one. “I thought you sided with your dad.”
“There’s not a side. We’re a family. Why should you sit home all day if you find something else that makes you happy, Mom?” He let out a sigh. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your job. I’m proud of you. You wanted something more, and you went out and got it.” His mom patted his hand. “I hope they’ll still let you come back after you had to come out here to hang out with me for a little while.”
“The HR person told me there’s a federal law that protects a leave of absence taken to care for a member of my family.” She twirled the bracelet around with her other hand. “I might have to do some retraining or something when I go back, but I want to go back. It doesn’t mean I don’t love your dad. I need something for myself. You understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Mom. I do.” His shoulder was twinging. He should get his ass back to bed for a while, but he wanted to make sure he got the next part out. “You might be going back sooner than you think. I’m going to ask the Sharks if I can rehab in California.”
Covering Kendall Page 22