Hail Mary
Page 22
“What makes you think I haven’t?” she countered, tipping her head, surveying him, and finding him as devastatingly attractive as she did all those years ago. More so, in many ways, her feelings only strengthened by time, time which had solidified their bond. Michael was her best friend, who knew everything about her and still wanted to know more. Every day, they talked about everything and nothing, sharing the daily aggravations along with the joys. At night, they revealed details about their respective pasts, as well as expectations and desires for their future. They were completely in sync in terms of their shared goals, but were negotiating other details, such as the timing and number of babies.
Michael didn’t think he could handle more than two. Mary dreamt of filling a house with at least five daughters who would undoubtedly wrap him around their little fingers while using him as a human jungle gym/transportation provider. The fact that he was committed to children signaled how far he’d come. He’d cautioned her that his career demands during pre-season training through playoffs guaranteed he would be absent from home a lot. Ever the consummate planner, Mary viewed the upcoming season to serve as a guidepost for her to get her feet under her and determine exactly how their marriage would work while during season and the best time to give birth.
Of course, making their future kids was sure to be a helluva lot of fun. Their attraction flared as hot and as strong as ever. It didn’t hurt that Michael was in prime physical shape. Never a slacker for workouts, he’d maintained his daily workouts during the off season once his cast was removed, but beginning in mid-April, had started completing his own two-a-days readying for training camp. The Tide’s training camp was held every year in Eastern Oregon, five hours away. After the first two weeks, families were allowed to visit the players for one weekend.
Mary booked her ticket the same day Michael first mentioned the dates.
“So what are you doing then?” Michael asked as he picked up her hand and held it in his.
“Other than pining away for you,” she teased, “Calleigh and I are heading up to Seattle for a Mariners game and some shopping, and I’ve made dinner plans with Jen and Sarah.”
Michael’s concern was nothing new, but every time he demonstrated it, she melted a little more inside. The irony was that he, Mr. Anti-Social with few friends, was worried about how she was going to fill her days in his absence. Michael still wasn’t exactly verbally affectionate, but he showed her how much he loved her every day. By March, after spending every single night together, they jointly decided it made the most sense for Mary to move in with him in his condo. Since then, she’d made it her own and a haven for both of them. The living room, once so neutral and void of any feeling, had been transformed into a comfortable, beautiful space that housed pictures of the two of them, Mary’s beloved books, magazines, and Yahtzee, their favorite game they played after dinner. For some couples, it was Scrabble. For Michael and Mary, it was Yahtzee.
They’d talked about marriage and Michael made it clear that he intended to marry her, but needed to ask her parents’ permission first. She was fairly certain that would be forthcoming during her parents’ visit in August. She couldn’t wait for her parents to meet him and vice versa. Her parents’ approval was guaranteed once they witnessed how he treated her. And how much she, in turn, adored him.
Michael had slowly begun coming out of his self-imposed shell. While still quiet in groups, he made a concerted effort to interact with her friends and let them know, without words, that Mary was the most important person in his life. When her girlfriends came over for game night, he talked to each and every one, sincerely attempting to learn about the other people in her life who were important. In addition to her friends, they’d entertained more and more of Michael’s teammates, mainly defenders, but some of the offensive players had found their way to their house more often than not. She’d heard from Murray that Michael was fast earning a reputation as a card shark after winning team poker games five times in a row. When she asked him about it, he chuckled and remarked that he’d been watching his teammates for years--and he knew exactly what their facial expressions meant.
Rubbing his hand with hers, Mary tried again. “So, what’s on your mind about camp?”
He cast his eyes down and to the right before locking with hers. “I feel like a pussy, but I don’t want to leave you.”
“You’ll only be there two weeks before I come out. And we’ll talk and text every night. It’ll be over before you know it and you’ll be in pre-season, at home almost every night,” she reassured him.
“It’s so strange. Before, I’ve always looked forward to camp, but now I just wish camp was here so I’d be home with you every night. Like I said, I feel like a chick,” he sheepishly confessed.
“If it makes you feel any better, Max and I will miss you as well. And Max isn’t a chick,” she teased, eliciting a smile from him. Michael’s smiles still didn’t beam very often, but they were given with increasing regularity, which is all she could ask. Sitting with him on that June afternoon, Mary had everything she had ever wanted. A wonderful guy who couldn’t do enough for her or keeps his hands to himself.
“Well, since Max’s nuts were chopped off years ago, I’m not sure he’s that far removed from a female, Mary,” he responded. Mary knew that he loved Max as much as she did. Max had commandeered the foot of their bed every night, a development Michael tolerated with a loving shake of his head. She knew full well he snuck Max extra treats for no other reason than he enjoyed lavishing loving attention on him. Max, in turn, worshipped him, waking up with him every morning, accompanying him on his morning runs, which kept the extra pounds generated by Michael’s daily treats at bay.
“You love him,” she reminded him.
“I do, but having this conversation makes me feel like a chick.”
Crawling into his lap, she snaked her arms around his taut waist and looked up at him. “I like having this conversation. It makes me feel very, very loved.”
Cradling her head in his broad hands, he leaned in and rubbed their noses together. “You are, Mary.”
He spent the rest of the evening proving just how much he loved her.
About the Author
After a somewhat lengthy detour into the practice of law, C.C. Galloway decided to follow her dream of becoming a writer. A native of the Midwest, she now resides in the Pacific Northwest with her arthritic greyhound and chubby cat. You can find her most days on her blog at ccwrites.blogspot.com.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
NFL Enterprises LLC.
Jeep: Chrysler Group LLC
60 Minutes: CBS New Productions
Safeway: Safeway Inc.
Volvowagon: Volvo Cars of North America, LLC
Best Buy: BBY Solutions, Inc.
iPod: Apple Inc.
Google Inc.
Dora the Explorer: Viscom International Inc.
Bob the Builder: HIT Entertainment Limited and Keith Chapman
Big Bird: Sesame Workshop
Chutes and Ladders; Yahtzee; Scrabble: Hasbro
Brita: The Clorox Company
Motel 6: Accor North America, Inc.
Valentino: Valentino SpA
National Basketball Association
Target: Target Corporations
Saks Fifth Avenue: Saks Incorporated
3 Doors Down Café
Fantasy Island: Sony Pictures
Elle Woods: Penguin Group USA
International Dairy Queen, Inc.
Magic Cookies: Eagle Brand
Elephants Delicatessen
Powerball: Multi-State Lottery Association
¿Por Que No? Taqueria
Stella Artois: Anheuser-Busch Companies, Inc
Widmer Hefeweizen: Widmer Brothers Brewing
Besaw’s
Fox: Fox Entertainment Group
CBS
: CBS Broadcasting Inc.
The Heathman Restaurant and Bar
Higgins Restaurant and Bar