by C. B. Stagg
Watching Vaughn with Julian, I saw her do something I’d been trying to accomplish for months. I felt as though I’d witnessed a miracle. The moments that Vaughn and Julian shared out on the field that afternoon will be chiseled on my heart forever.
I knew brokenness and despair. I’d suffered an unspeakable loss, something I'd lived with for ten years. And personal experience makes it easy to recognize in others. Vaughn was going to change Julian’s life. I just knew it. She’d already changed my life. I’d left the fields that day a different man. Watching those two wounded souls reach out to one another today gave me hope for my future.
January was the most boring time to be a turf specialist. I got my degree through the College of Agriculture and worked as the city’s Field Superintendent. My crew and I were in charge of maintaining all turf grass surfaces on the numerous sports fields in town. The only sport being played in the dead of winter was basketball, and since that didn’t involve turf, it didn’t involve me. That was the time I caught up on paperwork and Facebook. So when my personal cell phone rang with an unknown number, I welcomed the distraction.
“Casey here,” I answered, expecting one of those calls telling me I’d won a new home alarm system or that the warranty was almost out on my truck. What I was not expecting was my old neighbor.
“Hi, Casey. This is Donna Riley.”
“Hello, Mrs. Riley. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything okay?”
She and her husband were friends with my parents back when they lived in College Station. She lived in the house next door to the one Jase and Becky currently lived in, and I used to mow her lawn and help out in her garden in exchange for home-cooked meals. Boy, that woman could cook.
“Of course everything’s okay, boy. Just because I’m older than dirt doesn’t mean I’m calling because something’s wrong. Hank and I are healthy as horses. Old, creaky horses, maybe, but we’re good.”
I’d forgotten how funny Donna was. “Well, Mrs. Riley, I’m glad to hear everything’s going so well. What can I do for you?” I was still laughing a little from her last comment.
“I’ll cut to the chase. Hank and I have become foster parents, and in a few days, we are going to be fostering a little boy, age seven. Now, this boy has seen and experienced things you and I couldn’t imagine in our worst nightmares, and from what his social worker tells me, he really needs social interaction.”
“I’m not sure what I can do to help, but if you—”
“Actually, Casey, you are in a perfect position to help me out. Do you think my little guy, Julian, could find a place on your soccer team when the season starts in a few weeks?”
Ahhh, it finally started to make sense. I pulled up the website and had Julian registered in a matter of minutes. The fact that he was in foster care waived his registration fee.
“You’re a good boy, Casey Clark,” she said after thanking me. “Those brothers of yours may be monsters, but I think you’re a keeper.” She said that to all of us Clark boys.
Julian attended every practice and suited up for each game that spring season, though he never actually participated or played. He spent his time at soccer sitting on the sidelines with his chin on his knees and his arms tucked in tight.
Donna and I did everything we could to get him to engage with the other kids, but it was like he was in his own world. I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been through and where he found the strength to survive. With each moment we spent together, that boy carved a special place for himself in my heart. His presence perpetuated my need to become a father.
I’d never seen Julian interact with anyone, much less a stranger. He’d attended practices, on the same field, with the same team consistently for six months and still had yet to utter a word. When Julian showed up for his first practice of the fall, he fell right back into his routine, assuming his usual position on the sideline. He hadn’t been sitting more than a minute before I saw Vaughn head in his direction. Witnessing her comfortable approach and his instant reaction, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene as it unfolded.
With every passing moment, Vaughn’s gentle soul was not only reaching out to Julian, but it was also chiseling away at the wall I’d built around myself so long ago. She was taking up residence in my heart and mind. I was never more grateful when I heard the whistle blow, ending practice. I felt as if I’d been holding my breath for an hour and I worried that if their spell hadn’t been broken soon, I’d need Donna to come wipe my tears the way I watched her wipe her own during the exchange.
Once Donna drove away with Julian, I immediately sought Vaughn out. I’d wanted to talk to her about everything, but she was already in the parking lot. I watched as she got into her car, but she didn’t back out and drive off right away as I’d expected her to. Keeping my eyes trained on Vaughn’s car, I headed to my truck. She slowly backed out of her spot, righting her wheel as she shifted into drive, and I was able to catch a glimpse of her face.
Her swollen, red, tear-covered face.
“Hey, Case, is everything alright?”
“Hey, Mom, things are fine. I just wanted to let you know Jase filed the papers this week.” I thought the whole process would be harder on me emotionally, but it wasn’t.
“Oh, honey… You doing okay?” The concern in my mom’s voice was so genuine and comforting.
“Actually, Mom, I’m really fine.”
“Casey," she paused and I heard her breathing, almost as if her 'Mom Advice' motor was warming up. "I think Kris is a great girl, and she will be wildly successful at whatever she does with her life. That being said, I was never convinced she was your forever. There’s someone out there in the world, needing you as much as you need her.”
Immediately, Vaughn’s smiling face popped into my head and despite the warm weather, goose bumps covered my neck and arms.
“And I’m glad that you’re finally in a position to allow yourself to find her.” I’d never thought about it quite like that. “There is such beauty in falling in love with exactly the right person at exactly the right time… ”
Her voice drifted off, and I knew she was remembering the early days with my dad. It was a story I’d heard a thousand times.
On May 7th, every single year, we sat down to a fancy family dinner that my dad always cooked and my senior year of high school was no different.
“Well, this all looks delicious!” my mom declared, looking over the spread on the dining room table. It was my parents’ twentieth anniversary and instead of going out on their own, they’d always chosen to spend the evening with us kids, reminiscing and looking through old photo albums and scrapbooks. It was a tradition I scoffed at, but secretly enjoyed.
“All right, Mom,” I said as we all sat down to eat. “Tell us about how you and Dad met.” Because I knew she would. It happened every year.
She and my father looked at each other all moon-eyed and scooted closer to one another. On any other day, my mom and dad sat at opposite ends of the table, but on their anniversary, my dad sat in the empty seat to my mom’s left and often held her hand when she wasn’t using it to eat. They could be disgustingly cute sometimes.
“Well,” she began, “it all started in the conference room of a fancy hotel. We’d both just been hired into management for a major retailer, but the building wasn’t finished yet, so for our first week of training we were at the hotel.“
“When your momma walked in, the world stopped turning. She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, and I decided then and there that I would give her my last name.” He sighed and looked at her again. I probably could have recited that speech since I’d heard it almost word for word my entire life. But it never got old, hearing them tell of their fairy tale meeting, whirlwind courtship, and simple wedding.
My mom took over the storytelling. “And, as you know, that was it. Your dad and I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. We were married ten months later and, well, you… ” she looked right at me, “c
ame ten months after that. The rest is history.”
I’d always felt their unlikely story was a bit embellished, but I was starting to consider the possibility that things like that really do happen.
Sometimes my conversations with my mom were full of small town gossip and her filling me in on the health issues of everyone in my family over sixty. Today was different, though. She was mothering, and when my mom decided to mother; it was usually a good idea to listen.
“I guess I just… how will I know when I find the right one?”
“When you find the right woman, you’ll be able to look at her and say, ‘You are worth it. You are worth it all. If falling in love with you comes with the possibility of crash landing and shattering into a million pieces, you are worth it. ’ If you can look at her and say that straight from your heart, then you’ve found the one.” The line was so quiet, for a moment I thought the call had been dropped. “So, Casey… ” my mom finally said, “Does she have a name?”
That was something else about my mom. She knew things. Even living one hundred miles away, she knew something was up. And lying? That was completely out of the question because not only did she know things, but she also knew how to uncover details better than a divorce lawyer.
I laughed at her question, but answered honestly. “Her name is Vaughn.” I sighed, picturing her face. “I know next to nothing about her other than she’s way too young for me, but… “ I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit how I was feeling, but it was just my mom, and she really was one of the smartest people I knew.
“Mom, she just reached down into my chest cavity, grabbed hold of my heart, and took possession of it. She owns it now, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Well,” my mom asked thoughtfully, “is she worth it?”
I thought about it for a moment. Vaughn Jennings was passion personified. She threw herself into everything she did with such tenacity and emotion. She gave her all to the kids at practice, and according to Becky, she was a serious and dedicated student. Coming from Bec, the queen of dedication, that was a serious compliment.
It was both enchanting and exhausting to witness her spirited approach to life. I wanted to learn to feel like she did. It was time I experienced passion like that.
“You know, she just might be… ”
5-Vaughn
MY BLACK SUEDE SKIRT was entirely too short, and my red halter top was way too low cut. Looking down, I could see clear to my belly button, which was very out of character for me. Add to that the black patent leather, peep-toe, platform stripper heels adorning my feet, the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the bright red lipstick stain on the edge of my frozen cocktail… I had to wonder if I was inhabiting someone else’s body. Maybe that of a brazen hussy?
The smoky bar was packed tightly with all walks of life, and I found myself surrounded by random people from my psych class. Some internal warning system forced me to look up from my drink and I was shocked when Casey appeared. He walked through huge mirrored doors. I hadn’t noticed him until that moment, and he walked with purpose.
A man on a mission.
A wild animal after its prey.
I broke out in a cold sweat as he moved closer, and I pressed my knees together, unsure of this feeling erupting inside of me at the mere idea of him seeking me out. Invading my personal space, he removed the drink from my hand, setting it on the bar with a bang. I watched the frosty pink liquid slop over the sides and onto the slick bar top.
Pushing my stool back in, he mumbled, ‘Excuse us’ to my group before escorting me away. We immediately entered a long, dark hallway that appeared to lead behind the bar.
“Where are you taking me?” I had to scream over the music. He ignored me, so I stopped dead in my tracks. He did as well. Turning to me, I found myself on the receiving end of that sharp gaze from the first soccer practice.
It scared me.
He scared me.
But he also excited me, especially when he leaned in close.
“It’ll be worth it,” he whispered. His lips were right by my ear, and feeling the heat of his breath made my heart pound louder than the bass of the bar music. “Do you trust me?”
I subconsciously nodded. At that moment, I'd have followed him to the end of the earth.
Then, Casey tugged on the hand I didn’t realize he’d been holding and pulled me toward him as he spun me around. We backed into an alcove, and using his body, he pushed mine flush with the wall while his sexy blue eyes kept me mesmerized.
And suddenly his mouth was there, on mine, holding my lips captive. One strong arm wrapped around my back, while he reached his other hand around to the back of my neck, holding it firmly under my hair. He pressed me further into the wall as his kisses became more powerful.
Releasing his grip on my neck, he tugged lightly on the back of my hair, forcing my eyes up to meet his. He immediately started his assault on my jawline, then my neck, and behind my ear. His mouth followed an unmarked trail to my exposed collarbone, and all the way down to my chest. His kisses lit a wick that led right to my core.
The hand that had been holding my hip was moving to make contact with the bare skin on my lower back when the fire alarm in the bar started blaring in my ears.
But nothing stopped.
Not the music. Not the conversation. Not Casey with his delicious tongue leaving my mouth and encroaching on the swell of my breasts. If I moved, he’d stop, and that was so not happening. I could burn a little if it meant Casey would keep exploring my body.
My eyes popped open, then automatically slammed shut again, unprepared for the sudden flood of light. Trying again, I felt my heart racing, sweat soaking my pajamas.
It was my room.
I was in my room.
I was in my room, in my apartment, in College Station. And the fire alarm that had interrupted my illicit encounter sounded suspiciously like the alarm on my cell phone. Disappointment bloomed in my chest. I guess I hadn’t just had Casey’s tongue shoved down my throat.
I fumbled with the phone, turning the alarm off, and squeezed my eyes closed. Covering my head with a pillow, I begged for sleep to find me and take me back. The need to have Casey’s body against mine again was overwhelming. Placing my fingers against my lips, I tried to recall his taste: mint and bourbon. I longed for his spicy man scent to surround me as he nipped my lips and licked my neck.
After a few more unsuccessful minutes, I threw in the towel. But the memories of Casey and the bar were so bright and vivid in my mind, I had to keep reminding myself that the dream wasn’t real.
I also had to take a cold shower before class.
For the rest of the day, my thoughts volleyed between the burly hunk of a coach who’d been suddenly thrown into my life and the little boy with the soulful eyes who tagged along with him. While I was desperate to know more about both of them, it was the boy to which my conscious mind kept returning. The need to know his story was becoming somewhat of an obsession. I wanted to get to the bottom of it, and there was only one way to do it. I needed to talk to Casey. Like, call him. To have a real conversation.
But first, I needed Becky Hanson.
Luckily, I found Becky in her office, which wasn’t always the case on a Friday afternoon. Peeking in the window of her door, I caught her attention and she motioned me in, pointing to the leather chair I’d staked my claim to years before. As she finished her phone conversation, I waited, wondering the whole time how on earth I was going to explain why I needed Casey’s phone number.
“Hey, girl, how are you?” Becky asked with a wide smile, hanging up the phone. Her purse was on her desk, alongside her computer bag, so I knew she was on her way out the door and I needed to make this quick.
“Hey, I’m good… I was hoping to get Casey Clark’s cell phone number from you?” My voice was high-pitched and unsteady, but if Becky picked up on my nervousness, she didn’t let on.
Her eyebrows did, however, shoot up as she straightened her back in her
chair. “What’s wrong? Is there a problem with your coaching placement, Vaughn? Because if there is, that’s something you and I need to discuss with your—”
“No!” I interrupted a little louder than I’d intended. Calming my voice, I continued. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Not at all. Casey, er… Mr. Clark is great. He’s so good with the kids.” Get ahold of yourself Vaughn! “His behavior management is spot-on, and there’s this healthy fear/respect thing going on with the kids… and with me, if I’m being honest.” I felt the blush spread over my face and up to my scalp.
“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m glad things are going well, but I have to ask. Why do you need to contact Casey? Surely, whatever you have to say could wait until the game this weekend.” She smiled. “Could it possibly be something unrelated to your coaching duties, maybe?”
“Well, it’s actually about a kid. A boy on our team.” Did her face just fall a little? That was weird.
“I can tell that this boy is troubled. I want to help him, but I can’t if I don’t know the whole story. I know we could talk about it at practice, but it’s hard to talk with kids and parents around. I thought if I could ask him over the phone the conversation would be private—just between the two of us—and then I could maybe help this child a little more.”
Becky Hanson was a very intuitive woman, and I was positive she saw right through me. She knows I have a crush on my coach. Oh, no…
I felt the blush. It was creeping up on me again, and if I could feel it, she could most definitely see it. Damn!
“Hey! Vaughn?” Her tone insinuated that maybe it hadn’t been the first time she’d tried to get my attention. She was also holding out a hot pink, tennis ball-shaped Post-it with a phone number on it.
“Oh, sorry… Um, thank you… for this.” I grabbed the paper with Casey’s number from her hand. “Hey, Becky? If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly do you and Casey know each other? I remember hearing you mention that you two were friends when I first got my assignment. In fact, for some reason, I had the impression that Casey Clark was a woman. From the way you talked about your friendship and your lack of pronouns… ”