Hail Mary

by C. C. Galloway

  The Tide players, even out of uniform, were easy to spot. Taller and broader than the rest of the crowd, they were milling around, socializing with the students, signing autographs, and happily posing for pictures.

  Making her way to the bar for a diet soda since the light beer she was coveting would not only be seriously frowned on, but was outright forbidden at this official school function, Mary’s neck begin to prickle.

  Turning around in a full circle, she found him. Michael had entered the room by himself, a bottle of water in hand, and no one else had noticed him yet. Unlike the other players and Tide personnel who were decked out in suits, Michael was dressed in a black crew-neck sweater, and faded jeans.

  He found her eyes at the exact time she found his. Would he approach her? Would he talk to her? Butterflies acted like a GPS system in her stomach whenever he was in the same vicinity.

  She’d made a deal with Calleigh and there was no better time like the present than to confront it head-on. She could approach him, ask him out and it would be done. Over.

  As soon as Mary started towards Michael, he abruptly turned away and started walking in the opposite direction towards the Silverstons, immediately stopping Mary in her tracks.

  Alrighty, then. I guess I’ll be welching on our deal, Mary thought, and quickly took off for some fresh air.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Asking himself when the hell had he been christened the team’s public speaker, but determined not to embarrass the Tide, or worse yet, Mary, Michael reluctantly took the microphone. Without him saying a word, the entire room quickly quieted.

  “I’d like to welcome all of the Walker students, many of whom I had the pleasure of meeting several weeks ago, their parents, teachers, and chaperones here. On behalf of the Tide, we’re pleased that so many of you are taking college as seriously as it deserves to be taken and we’re glad you found time to come out and hang with us today. I hope we entertained you on the field and I encourage everyone to talk to the players and the coaches about school and about the Tide. Thank you.”

  Putting the microphone up, he began searching the faces in the crowd for hers. He’d chickened out when she approached him earlier, unprepared to face her or his unfamiliar and unwelcome feelings threatening his peace of mind. The conflicted feelings tied his gut in knots and preoccupied his mind.

  But now he was ready to talk to her. He wanted to talk to her, in fact. He could listen to her talk all night long if she wanted. He was calm, his nerves no longer holding him hostage and muting his voice.

  Stepping off the podium, he found himself face to face with Dr. Boxer who spent the next several minutes bending his ear about education reform and his current dating status.

  Now, where the hell was Mary? Where had she gone? Had she already left?

  Michael was drawn to her in a way utterly foreign to him. His internal weakness was one neither of them could afford. Nothing good could come from it, this attraction he felt and was certain she recognized and reciprocated. She had to in light of his jealous performance the last time he’d seen her.

  In spite of his twelve hour days, grueling practices, additional daily work outs, and his sheer stubbornness, he hadn’t been able to exorcise her from his mind. During the day, his thoughts drifted to her randomly. While he was driving to practice, he’d wonder what class she was teaching. Every Friday night that had passed since he’d seen her, he’d been tempted to call her and assure her he was, in fact, watching game tapes. Whenever he made something to eat, he thought of her and the food she’d prepared for him the night he’d been such an ungrateful prick.

  Those were just his PG-13 thoughts.

  He woke up in the middle of the night, hard and aching for her. She was the only one on his mind, no one else. No Playboy centerfolds. No Tide cheerleaders. Or any of the beautiful women who hung around the Tide parking lot day in and day out hoping one of the players, any player, would notice them.

  He was throwing wood the way he had in high school, waking up every morning with his cock stiff and begging for release. In the shower, he repeatedly took care of himself fantasizing about her. He’d never been one for fantasies, but he retreated to them with alarming frequency. He pictured her on her knees in front of him, his cock in her mouth while she pleasured herself with her hands. Or better yet, Mary splayed out completely in front of him, on his bed, naked, glistening and waiting for his mouth to devour her. He knew if they ever went down that road, he could go down on her for days, months, years. He would never be able to get enough of her. He dreamed of taking her in every way possible, on every surface in his condo and her apartment, on every single piece of furniture, and every floor. He dreamed of having her in ways that were likely illegal, but he’d always wondered about. He’d love to lay her out on her stomach and kiss every single inch of her back, her thighs, and her calves before taking her. He pictured himself as deep inside her as she could allow, touching her deeper than any man ever had. He imagined her on top, full of his cock, full of him, riding him, slowly at first, increasing their tempo until they were exhausted.

  She was the star of every kinky thought he had. He wanted to try things with Mary he’d only read about and use her mouth and her pussy in ways she didn’t even know were possible. He wanted to ride her out and leave her sweaty and completely satisfied.

  Maybe it was time to do something about it, his devil alter ego urged.

  Yeah, right, he scolded himself. He had nothing to offer her. Nothing worthy of her and the future she should have. A beautiful house. A successful, normal husband who came from a normal family and wanted a normal life with her. Kids. He couldn’t look at Mary and not realize she would be a perfect mother for any children she and her husband would have. She was clearly a natural. She loved her students and he couldn’t imagine her going through life without kids of her own.

  If his parents’ marriage wasn’t enough to solidify it, after Tracey, he knew kids sure as shit weren’t in his future.

  His cock was the only thing he could give her, but that alone would never last. Mary wasn’t indiscreet and wouldn’t be interested in having only a physical relationship. She wouldn’t be satisfied with it. She would want, and should have, something more. Something he didn’t have in him to give her. Even if she wanted him at first, she’d soon realize he was incapable of wanting or maintaining any semblance of a typical family life, get fed up and leave him. Assuming she never learned about Don and Sue Ellen. Once she did, she’d run fast and far away.

  After extricating himself from Dr. Boxer’s surprisingly strong grip, Michael made polite small talk with the students and their teachers and found himself enjoying it, while continuously searching the room for any signs of Mary. Why are you searching for her, asshole? She was clearly coming to talk to you when you turned away. Smooth move, dickhead.

  Anything with Mary could only lead to her destruction, but for the first time in a long time, his instincts were overtaking his brain. After exhausting all spaces in the conference floor and confirming none of the teachers had seen her in quite awhile, he decided to search for her outside. And hit pay dirt.

  Finding her on the fourth floor balcony outside of the conference room, “Mary,” he breathed.

  Michael momentarily stopped before stepping up to the balcony railing next to her, hoping she’d turn towards him, and drinking her in the way a marathoner finished a bottle of water after the race.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Her spine straightened at the whisper of his words but Mary steeled herself from turning around. It was childish, but she was thirteen all over again. Chubby, geeky, all full of hormonal angst, in the presence of the cutest high school jock. She needed to maintain any sense of dignity that she had ever possessed. What was the phrase? Fake it till you make it? Yeah, she’d be faking it with the best of them tonight.

  “The great Michael Santiago. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  Despite his proximity and attention, Mary refused to alter her position
, maintaining her focus on the mountain in the distance.

  “Thanks for organizing this. There was quite a turnout,” Michael tried. He likely figured if nothing else, she’d jump at the chance to discuss her students. Any other night, he would have been right.

  “I had nothing to do with this and can’t claim credit for it.”

  Take that, Michael. While childish, she could be just as much as a jerk.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Talk about a role reversal. This was the first time Mary was the one who was less than forthcoming, not responsible for moving the conversational ball forward. It was a new position for him, and he was completely ill at ease.

  Shit.

  Michael leaned over the railing, resting his elbows on the stand, and looked off towards Mount Hood, determined to keep trying despite Mary’s resistance.

  “How’ve you been?”

  A pause. Then, “Fine.”

  “Good. That’s good,” Michael responded. “How are your classes?”

  “Fine.”

  “Max?”

  “Fine.” She sighed.

  He laughed quietly. “Everything seems to be fine.”

  “Are you mocking my vocabulary, Michael, or my life?” Mary finally turned to look at him but he couldn’t see her eyes behind the oversized black sunglasses blocking him out.

  “Neither, Mary. I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You should be inside. I’m sure you’re missed in there,” Mary said.

  “So should you. It’s your hard work that’s getting those kids to college.”

  Mary turned away again and sipped on her soda.

  “Besides,” Michael continued, “I’d much rather be out here with you.”

  Mary choked on her soda.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Would you like me to repeat it?” he teased, giving in to his urge to tuck a wild strand of her thick hair behind her ear

  She asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “This!”

  “This what?” Michael teased. Even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he could tell she was annoyed. But she was also excited if her chest was any indication. Her navy sweater was not shielding her nipples from his intense gaze and he planned to take full advantage of it.

  “You know what? I’m completely confused by you. You never talked to me at Wisconsin about anything other than increasing your average in Differential Equations. I run into you several weeks ago and you barely acknowledge me and in all likelihood, wouldn’t have if I hadn’t recognized you and forced you to speak to me. For reasons I’m still not aware of and don’t make any sense in my brain, knowing what I know of you,” Mary continued, “you agree to help me out with College Career Day. Then, I invite you over for dinner, on a Friday night no less. You show up and I think we’re having a perfectly nice evening until you turned into a complete and utter jerk and didn’t even bother to eat the cake I’d baked for you.” Mary exhaled.

  All through Mary’s speech, Michael’s right hand continued to tap the railing. He only stopped in order to respond, looking at her solemnly with his dark, earnest eyes. Eyes that seemed softer in the twilight of the early evening.

  “I’m sorry, Mary. I’m a jerk.”

  “You’re only realizing this now?”

  His soft laughter was the only sound.

  “Maybe so.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re pointing it out to me?” Michael questioned. This was turning out much better than he’d even hoped. When he stopped on to the balcony, he didn’t have a plan. All he’d wanted was to get Mary to talk to him about anything. He hadn’t planned on apologizing, but it had naturally happened, which felt…liberating.

  The right thing to do at the right time for the right reason.

  For once.

  “You can make it up to me,” Mary offered.

  “Name your price.”

  “We go out on a date. You choose what we do. Deal?”

  Michael’s smile started out slow, which was a good thing because Mary wasn’t prepared for its star-quality. It dominated his face and turned him from a sober, aggressive athlete into a stunning man.

  “You took the words out of my mouth, Mary. Be ready at seven next Saturday. I’ll pick you up,” Michael told her.

  “Alrighty, then,” Mary murmured, turning around and fleeing back inside before either of them could change their mind.

  Chapter 8

  The next Saturday, Mary rearranged the wine colored skirt of her wrap dress for the thousandth time and took another long pull on her beer. She double-checked the backs on her stud earrings, and smoothed the front of her skirt. Straightened the magazines on the table. Twice. Checked her watch for the seventeenth time in the last five minutes. Changed the channels, never letting any channel remain on longer than a minute before moving on. Double-checking her cell phone to make sure she hadn’t missed any calls or texts.

  But nothing she did alleviated her nerves.

  It had all started when she’d caved earlier and called Michael.

  “Where are we going?” she’d asked, silently hoping he’d cancel and she could go back to her normal, quiet, teaching life, where handsome professional athletes stayed where they belonged.

  On the television.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I need to know what to wear.”

  “Wear whatever you want.”

  “Spoken like a man. I need to know what to wear.”

  “Wear something comfortable.”

  “Comfortable is relative,” Mary responded. “Comfortable for a soccer game is different from comfortable for dinner. Dinner is different depending on if we’re going to the Pearl or Southeast Hawthorne.”

  Michael chuckled. “Nice try, but it’s still a surprise. I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said and hung up before Mary could lodge any more protests.

  She’d selected the wine colored wrap dress that hit at her knees because she’d received lots of compliments on it over the years and she felt comfortable and confident in it. Strong. Self-assured. Her sheer stockings made her calves shimmer and sparkle in her four inch Stuart Weitzman black pumps. She was pretty sure her outfit would suffice for any place they’d go for dinner, be it posh or casual.

  The bonus was that the dress revealed what Calleigh liked to refer to as “good cleavage.”

  “Sexy, but not slutty, Mary,” she’d once opined. “The girls should invite a guy in, but not stay overnight. Good cleavage says you are a woman in your sexual prime and not afraid to show it.”

  Calleigh knew what she was talking about.

  She still hadn’t received the full scoop from Calleigh about David, but was reserving the topic for their planned hike in Forest Park. Maybe she’d have something of her own to share on the dating front. All week long she’d mentally tried to play it down, telling herself it was not a date. Even though everything about it screamed date. The night of the week, the activity…

  Her nerves certainly believed it was a date. The last time her nerves were this strong was when she had come out to Portland for her interview at Walker. Like that day, her nerves felt the same: excited, hopeful, and scared. As though her body knew something that remained a mystery to her heart and her mind. Where she’d gained the courage, she’d never know. But now that the time was upon her, she was happy she’d taken the plunge. If she hadn’t, would he have ever asked her out? Probably not. Michael had a natural, almost ingrained reserve Mary suspected was a mix of history and biology.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  As he parked the Jeep in front of Mary’s apartment building, Michael admitted the saleswoman at Saks Fifth Avenue knew what she was talking about. His new black silk Valentino was light as air, like his workout clothes, but fit better than anything he’d ever owned. Almost as good as his uniform. Just not quite as lived in. He’d nixed the tie; too high school prom crush dork meets adult geek. Guess what they said was
true: you get what you pay for. In this case, any Valentino suit from Saks came complete with custom, hand-tailoring that Michael had reluctantly stood for at least thirty minutes while the little bald man whipped his tape measure around him with the force of an Italian general, all the while murmuring to himself.

  For the first time in a long time, he’d spent his recent evenings on something other than football, game footage, and calls. He’d devoted numerous hours on CitySearch and in Powell’s Portland section to research the perfect first date place in the city.

  It was the least he could do for Mary.

  It should be romantic, but not too obvious. Soft lighting would be a bonus. Preferably it would be located some place they wouldn’t be recognized. There weren’t a lot of people who recognized him in his street clothes, and even when they did, they rarely approached him, but he wanted a place he could have Mary all to himself since this was likely their one and only night together.

  Ever.

  Michael was leery of treading too far off the beaten path and ending up some place that was vegan only. He wasn’t interested in giving Mary the impression he’d only take her to out-of-the-way spots. As though she wasn’t worthy of splashier, more prominent restaurants.

  He wanted to show her off to the entire city.

  The restaurant couldn’t be too loud. He hated the few times when he’d been in a place and everything was overshadowed by the acoustics and other patrons.

  It couldn’t be too silent either in case there were any awkward moments.

  For which he would no doubt be entirely responsible for.

  Tonight needed to be perfect. He owed Mary nothing less after his last performance.

  Besides, if this was it, he wanted to cherish it in the long, lonely years ahead.

  After he rang the doorbell, Mary met him outside on the steps, looking like a million bucks.