by Irene Brand
In the meantime, he had a life to live. He called a taxi and rode into the center of Columbus’s business district on High Street. He got out of the cab in front of the capitol, wondering why the dome was so stubby. Had the founding fathers of the state run out of money before they completed the dome? He sat on the stone wall that surrounded the capitol’s lawn, watching and listening to the steady drone of traffic along the city’s main thoroughfare.
After living for two years in Pittsburgh, Chad still wasn’t accustomed to big cities. His small Alabama town could be set down in the space occupied by Columbus’s large financial district, but he didn’t feel as crowded here as he did in most cities. Chad felt no urge to do anything, but eventually he stirred, walked a half block and crossed the street.
He went into a bank—the same corporation that he used in Pittsburgh and arranged for a transfer of funds.
From an ATM machine, he withdrew some cash for his immediate needs. He walked a block to a department store, using his credit cards, purchased a jacket, two knit shirts, slacks, a pair of dress shoes, heavy socks and running shoes. With the sweats and the underwear his mother had purchased, he could manage until he decided what to do with his personal things in Pittsburgh.
He caught a taxi back to his hotel, where he found a message waiting from Mrs. Lashley. He could move into the apartment at his convenience. Seeing no reason to pay another night’s hotel bill, Chad dialed Vicky’s number.
When three days passed, and Vicky hadn’t heard from Chad, she started wondering if she would ever see him again. She didn’t recognize the number on her Caller ID when the phone rang.
“Hello,” Chad said. “Is the Lanham Taxi Service operating today?”
“It is until noon when the proprietor has to go to work.” She laughed. “Where do you want to go?”
“To my apartment. Mrs. Lashley left word that it’s ready.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour. Can you be packed by then?”
“I’m packed. I bought some new things today, and they’re still in the plastic bags. I bought a duffel bag for my other clothes.”
“What about bathroom and kitchen supplies? Since you probably don’t feel up to shopping, I’ll pick up some towels, soap and other things you’ll need. I’ll get some bread and milk for you, too.”
His cheerful laugh thrilled Vicky. It was a good sign that he was starting to heal emotionally as well as physically. “I hadn’t given that any thought. My housekeeper kept my Pittsburgh apartment supplied, but I intend to get along without a housekeeper now. It would be great of you to buy those things. I appreciate it.”
“OK. Then I’ll see you soon.”
Vicky had been moping around for several days, but the surge of adrenaline she received after Chad’s call turned her into a dynamo. She quickly gathered the things she would need for work and hurried out to the car.
“God,” she whispered before she turned the ignition key. “Am I really getting the opportunity to help Chad Reece? He’s a famous, wealthy man, and when he’s well again, he’ll probably go back to his old friends and forget all about me. I must not expect more from him than he’s willing to give.”
Was God calling her to serve Chad? She started to think this might be so when the tense expression on Chad’s handsome face relaxed into a smile when he saw her.
With an answering smile, she asked, “Anybody looking for a taxi?”
“Yes, one poor vagrant.”
“Let’s go then.” She picked up his duffel bag. “I’d better take this.”
“It embarrasses me to have you carrying the heavy items, but I think the duffel bag weighs more than I’m allowed to lift for another week.”
During the short drive to Neil Avenue, Chad told her about the call from his manager and about his shopping trip during the morning. After he got the key from his landlady, she helped him upstairs with his luggage and the supplies she’d bought for him, then said, “I’ve got to go now.”
“I don’t even know where you work. I’ve spent too much time talking about myself, rather than listening to you.”
“I work in a bookstore on High Street near the OSU campus. My parents think I’m wasting my time, and I guess I am, but I make enough to pay the rent, my food and gasoline. That’s all I want now.”
“Will you be finished in time to have dinner with me tonight?”
“That depends on what time you want to eat. I work until seven o’clock.”
“That’s all right with me. Will you drive by and pick me up? I don’t know the town yet. You choose a restaurant. I’ll be watching for you—just blow the horn.”
Vicky would have preferred to go home and shower before she picked Chad up for dinner, but she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She went to the restroom and checked her appearance in the mirror on the door before she left the store.
She wore a pair of knit pull-on black pants and a light pink sweatshirt with a white collar. Not very dressy, but at least the color of the shirt complemented her creamy skin and brought out the rosy tint of her cheeks. She pulled a comb through her hair, hitched her bag over her shoulder and hurried out to the parking lot. Chad was sitting on the porch banister waiting for her when she reached his apartment house.
He was dressed in a white knit skirt and black trousers, and Vicky was pleased. Having left his casual clothes behind might indicate that Chad was looking forward instead of backward.
She chose a family-type restaurant not far from their apartments. From talking to Chad’s parents, and also from his own comments, she knew that, in spite of his rise to fame in professional sports, he still had the simple tastes of an Alabama boy who had grown up in a small town atmosphere.
A waiter showed them to a corner booth and took their beverage orders. Chad commented on the antique cooking and farm implements arranged on high shelves around the ceiling. “Reminds me of home,” he said.
Vicky noted the wistful look in his eyes and knew that he wasn’t as relaxed and cheerful as he seemed. When the waitress arrived with their glasses of iced tea, she ordered a pasta salad.
“I really like the pasta dishes here,” she said to Chad, “but all of the food is good.” To the waitress, she added, “And I want a piece of French silk pie for dessert.”
“I have an appetite today, the first time since I had the accident.” He ordered a steak, baked potato and some broccoli florets in cheese sauce.
While he was deciding on a salad, Vicky said, “This restaurant is noted for its coleslaw.”
“I’ll take a side of that, too,” he told the waitress. While they sipped on tea, Chad said, “I’ll have to be careful of what I eat. Now that I won’t be going to the gym every day, it will probably be easy for me to gain a lot of weight.”
“How much do you weigh now?”
“I’ve tried to stay at two hundred pounds. I’m quicker on my feet at that weight.” Thoughtfully, he added, “I’ve often wondered if I might get heavier in middle age as many men do, but now that I know Perry is my biological father, I don’t think I will. At least, I’ll be happy if I look like he does when I’m his age.”
“You will,” Vicky assured him.
“I suppose I’m already healing,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt me to face the fact that he’s my father now.”
“You had too many traumatic things hurled at you in a short time. Now that you’re healing physically, your emotions will shape up, too.”
“But what about you? You hinted that you understood how I felt because you’d had a similar experience. You listened to me. It’s your turn now.”
Vicky hesitated. How could she confide in Chad? She believed he had a good opinion of her now, and she didn’t want to change that.
“It really isn’t much compared to what you’ve faced. I’d just as soon not talk about it now. Tell me about your life in Alabama. I’ve lived in Columbus all of my life, and I don’t know much about small town life.”
“You haven’t traveled much?”
> “No. I have relatives who live in Florida, but they usually come here to visit us. The longest I’ve been away from home was when I volunteered for Red Cross duty in Southern West Virginia during a bad flood. I thought when I was growing up that God had called me into a life of service and that seemed a good way to find out if I had the right stuff to be a missionary.”
“I was a Boy Scout and I helped in Southern Louisiana after a hurricane once. What I saw there showed me how fortunate I was. What incidents made an impression on you?”
As Vicky related how she had watched her coworker, Amelia Stone, rescue a stranded child from an overflowing creek, Chad realized what a wonderful companion Vicky was.
Vicky paused, puzzled by Chad’s intent stare. At his sudden question, she wondered if he’d been listening to her flood adventures at all.
“I suppose I should have considered this before I invited you out for dinner, but are you dating anyone?”
“No, not now.”
“Good. I suddenly realized that I might be causing you a problem by asking you to spend so much time with me. I’m not dating anyone, either. Since I turned pro I’ve been cautious about women. Too many athletes are set up for compromising situations and get sued. I’ve avoided that by not keeping company with anyone.”
Vicky concealed her amusement, but she wondered why he didn’t consider her a threat. Didn’t she exhibit enough femininity to attract him? Then again, that suited her just fine. She had been burned twice in relationships and she didn’t want any more involvement. Finding out how Chad felt, she concluded that her decision to let him take the leadership in their companionship was a wise one.
They enjoyed a leisurely dinner, chatting about their high school years. Vicky found Chad easy to talk to, and when she took him home, he said, “I’ve enjoyed the evening. Let’s do this again soon.”
“All right,” she said lightly. “Give me a call. The Lanham Taxi Service aims to please.”
Chad settled into his new apartment and within a few days he felt at home. Although he wasn’t much of a cook, he existed on what he could prepare. He had no communication with his landlady. She apparently confined her activities to the first floor.
Chad was lonely, because he had always had lots of friends, but he didn’t want any company now—an attitude that didn’t make any sense even to him. He changed his cell phone number and hadn’t given it to anyone except Vicky, and she didn’t call, although he hoped that she would.
After a week, he contacted his parents and Lorene and Perry to give them his phone number, but he didn’t tell them where he lived.
“Please don’t give my phone number to anyone,” he told both sets of parents. “As long as you don’t know where I am, you can easily stall anyone who’s trying to get in touch with me.”
His father answered in a tone of voice that Chad had seldom heard from him. He was plainly annoyed with his son’s attitude. “We’re getting lots of calls that we can’t very well ignore without being rude. Your teammates have been calling almost every day, asking about you and wanting your phone number. Tommy is nearly frantic because he blames himself for your injury. You should call him, at least. You can’t hide forever, Chad. If you go to the hospital for checkups, someone is going to find you.”
“Maybe, but I’m going to enjoy being an ordinary person as long as I can.”
After a week of solitude, Chad was much stronger. His incision rarely bothered him, and he went to the rehab center of the hospital and worked out on the easier machines. The surgeon had advised him to avoid strenuous exercise for several weeks, but he couldn’t stay inactive. He was fed up with his solitary life.
He started exploring Columbus on foot. At the break of day, he left the apartment and walked toward the business district. Within a week he had no difficulty walking four or five miles each morning. After his walks he stopped at his favorite coffeehouse on High Street for breakfast.
Chad called his housekeeper in Pittsburgh and asked her to send his casual clothes and a few of his suits. On the first day of November, he awakened, looked at the calendar and knew he had to face reality. He rented a box at the nearest postal branch and notified the post office in Pittsburgh to forward his mail to it.
He waited several days before he stopped at the post office on one of his morning walks. Expecting to have some mail, he was surprised to see only one card when he bent down to peer into the box. The card indicated that he should call at the window for his mail.
He handed the card to the clerk. She looked at the card and scanned his face with interested, amused eyes. She obviously knew who he was.
With a sly grin, she said, “Did you bring a truck?”
“What do you mean?”
She motioned to three large cloth bags behind the counter. “They’re full of mail forwarded from Pittsburgh. You can take your mail in the bags, if you’ll return them.”
His amazement must have shown on his face, because the clerk couldn’t control her burst of laughter.
“It’s been less than two months since I picked up my mail. How could so much have accumulated in that time?”
“You’re a popular man,” she said, apparently enjoying his discomfiture.
The bags obviously weighed more than he should lift. “Do you have someone to carry them to the street for me? I’ll have to call a cab.”
“No problem, Mr. Reece. I’ll call the cab and tell the driver to come to the loading dock in the back. You can wait out there. Just follow the sidewalk to the rear of the building. We’ll load the bags on a cart and bring them out for you.”
When the cabdriver hopped out of the vehicle to load the bags for him and asked, “Where to, Mr. Reece?” Chad gave him the address on Neil Avenue, knowing his whereabouts would soon be common knowledge. The man chatted about Chad’s football career all the way to his apartment. Although still hesitant to face his changed status in society, Chad responded to the man’s comments on his past glory.
The cabbie carried the bags up the stairs and into Chad’s apartment and piled them in a corner.
“Will you dump the contents of the bags into the garbage bags and take these cloth bags back to the post office for me?”
“Glad to do it, Mr. Reece. You know, I never thought I’d meet you face-to-face.”
The driver’s mouth parted in a wide smile when Chad shook hands with him and gave him a generous tip. He handed Chad a business card. “Here’s my number—call me anytime you need a cab.”
Chad knelt and spread the mail. Among the ever-present junk mail, he saw envelopes that must contain get-well cards and personal letters. It would take weeks for him to open and read the mail.
Chad frowned in desperation as he stared down at the massive pile. He couldn’t deal with it today. He picked up his phone and dialed Vicky’s number.
She answered immediately.
“Did I catch you at home?”
“No,” she said. “I’m in the grocery store. I stopped on my way home from work.”
“Will you be free for dinner this evening?”
“I always go to church on Wednesday nights. But I don’t work at all tomorrow.”
“Then let’s spend the day together. I plan to lease a car tomorrow so I can pick you up.”
“Would you like to go to church with me tonight?” Vicky asked.
“I probably should, but I’m not quite ready to deal with crowds yet. Thanks for asking.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll walk to your apartment. What time?”
“Why don’t I call you after I have the car?”
“Good. That will give me time to do my laundry.”
Chad leased a blue, medium-priced car the next day that wouldn’t attract attention. He telephoned Vicky, and before ten o’clock, he parked in front of her apartment house. He didn’t know which apartment was Vicky’s, so he waited for her to come out.
The sky was a bright blue with a few fleecy clouds making a pleasant contrast. The temperature was
in the midseventies. The trees bordering the street had lost most of their leaves. Chad lowered the window and breathed deeply of the air that held a tint of wood smoke. God had created such a beautiful world for mankind to enjoy that Chad found it difficult to be downhearted today. And when Vicky strolled toward him wearing a denim suit and a blue blouse that matched her eyes, he thought that a pretty girl could go a long way to cheer a man up.
He got out of the car and opened the door for her.
She admired the shiny blue car and the ivory interior.
“Pretty neat car,” she said.
“I don’t know whether it pays to lease a car or not,” he said, “but since I’ve been playing for the NFL, I’ve done most of my traveling by plane. I’ve never owned a car. When I was at home, I rode a bicycle or borrowed Dad’s car. Now that I won’t be on the football circuit, I may decide to buy one.”
He settled in the car beside her. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’m just going along for the ride,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
“I thought we might get out of the city and drive around. I don’t know anything about Ohio. You may think you won’t be doing anything, but you’re the guide. I’m going to buy your lunch, and maybe even dinner, if we’re out long enough, so you have to do something to earn it.”
She looked at him with amused wonder, marveling that his state of mind had improved considerably since she had met him.
“I hear you! Let’s take I-270 until we get to Route 62 and go northeast on that until we reach Holmes County. We can eat our lunch there and take another route returning. If that’s too much driving for you, I can drive while you rest.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” he said, and he followed her directions to find the road she had indicated. He drove leisurely for almost two hours enjoying the beautiful, well-kept, productive farms and comparing them to the less fertile soil of Alabama.