“Just until his leg is better.”
“How long will that be?”
I didn’t feel like I could tell her that Mr. Pauley had mentioned when he hired me that Davis would be out of football for at least six months. That didn’t mean I’d be working for him for that long, though. Not playing was one thing; having a nursemaid was another. “Maybe only a few weeks, until he can drive. But here’s the best part: I’ll get a job with the team when I’m done here!”
She didn’t look as excited as I thought she should. “What about your art?” We moved into the guest bedroom. Even the air smelled stale and Lindy opened the windows.
“I’ll still paint. Maybe I won’t be Nutty anymore, after this season, though. Sam is driving me crazy. He was a no-show again at our last rehearsal. If he doesn’t come tomorrow, I can’t imagine how we’re going to be ready for the game.”
“Hm.” Lindy picked up a pair of boxer briefs from the floor. I snatched them away from her. “They’re really large in the frontal area,” she commented.
“Sweet Lord, not you, too. I can’t take any more of that.”
She sat down on the bed and yawned. “I can’t help myself. I’m in a state of…being in a state. I’m all over Logan, all the time. I had no idea that pregnancy—” Lindy clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Lindy! Are you saying that you’re pregnant?” My lower lip started to tremble. “Really? Already?”
“Before the wedding,” she admitted, nodding. “I was that kind of bride, but I didn’t know it then.” I hugged her. “I’m not that far along, so don’t tell, ok?” she asked me when I finally let her go. “It was a definite surprise for me and Logan. We were waiting to say it until we could tell my parents in person when they get back from their trip and I’m farther along. I’ve almost told you about a thousand times by mistake.”
Cleaning went fast when you got to talk to your best friend about her baby. I was over the moon excited for her. We finished the guest bedroom and bathroom and moved out into the hall, cleaning as we went.
I pulled the handle of a door which I had assumed led to a closet. It was locked. “What’s in there?” Lindy asked, rattling the handle.
“I guess it’s a little storage area.”
“Katie, you really have no sense of space. Think about how the house is laid out. There’s probably a pretty sizable room behind this door.”
“Really?” I rattled it too. “Well, I guess if it’s locked, then he doesn’t want us to go in.”
“Aren’t you curious at all?” She raised her eyebrows. “Remember the story of Bluebeard? The guy with the locked room filled with his dead wives?”
Well, Davis was mean enough to be a serial killer. “I’m assuming you’re speaking metaphorically.”
She laughed ghoulishly. “Maybe. Or maybe not!”
I checked my phone for the time. “I think we’ve done enough for today. I have to head over to the doctor’s office and pick up Davis.”
Lindy stared at me. “You say his name like it’s nothing. Davis Blake!”
“You were the one holding his unmentionables. Listen, Lindy, please remember…”
“I know,” she told me. “I’m not telling anyone anything. Certainly nothing about the large front pocket in his underwear. Next week we’ll do the upstairs?”
The house already looked so much better I could barely believe it. Just opening the curtains had made a huge difference. I hoped Davis would like it.
I got to the doctor’s office a little early and waited for him in the lobby, looking through very old magazines and catching up on celebrity gossip from a few months ago. “Wow, I had no idea she married that guy…”
“Are you ready to go? I don’t want to interrupt your important reading.”
My head snapped up. “Oh, hi! I didn’t know you were there.” Davis looked pale and exhausted. “Tough appointment?”
He wheeled around on his good leg and swung himself away. I put down the magazine and followed him out of the building. A light, cool rain was falling, raising the heat from the pavement. I fumbled for a minute with the keys as I walked toward the car.
“What the fuck are you doing? We’re standing in the rain. Unlock the goddamn car!” he yelled at me.
I hit the button and we both got in. I pushed my damp hair behind my ears.
“Do you need a written invitation? Start it up and drive. What the hell am I paying you for?”
I drove him home without saying a word. When we got there, I walked ahead and unlocked the door, then put the car keys on the table in the hallway. He was halfway up to the porch when I walked back past him, rolling my bike.
“Where are you going? Hey!” he continued when I didn’t stop. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“I’m leaving,” I informed him. “I’m going to ask if they’ll take me back at the warehouse.”
“Why, because I didn’t say please and thank you?”
I stopped and stared at him. “Because you yelled curse words at me across a parking lot. Because you continued to be a jerk to me in the car. Because you just asked me where the fuck I was going! I don’t have to listen to that, and I’m not going to let you treat me like that. I’ll send you the receipt for the groceries and you can mail me a check.” I kept walking.
“Hey.”
Nope.
“Hey!” It was the same voice that carried across the football field. “Katie.”
That made me stop. He had asked my name, but he hadn’t yet used it. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Yes?”
“I did have a bad appointment.”
I waited. Rain dripped down my cheeks.
“They think my knee is worse than their first diagnosis.” He swallowed hard, looking at the ground. “It’s not just my ACL. There’s more damage.”
“Oh.” I rolled the bike closer to him. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
His strong jaw clenched and unclenched, and now he looked me in the eyes. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“And swore at me.”
“And swore at you,” he repeated.
I hesitated. “I get that you’re going to be mad about this. Injuries and illness and recovery suck. You can be mad at me, and yourself, and the whole world, but you can’t talk like that. Ok?”
Davis nodded.
“Ok. Let’s go inside. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
He didn’t seem to notice the improvements in the appearance of the house as he walked back to the guest bedroom. I had carried most of his clothes down, kind of marveling at the quantity and quality of it all. Really nice clothes stored in a dim and filthy closet. I dried my hair with some paper towels, since Davis’ kitchen wasn’t supplied with the cloth kind. Another thing to put on the list.
“Here.”
Davis, now in a dry t-shirt, held out a real bath towel to me.
“Thanks.” I wiped my face and put it around my shoulders.
“Your hair looks different from before.” He was squinting at my head.
“Yeah, I had straightened it. This is its natural state,” I admitted, pointing to the waves and curls. He made a face like it pained him. Ok, no reason to go there. “Why don’t you sit down and put your leg up?” I took some bags of frozen peas out of the freezer.
“The house looks different.”
Not better. Different. “My friend Lindy came over and we cleaned a lot. We’ll do the rest of the house next week.”
He had been easing himself back on the couch in the adjoining family room, but now he sat up straight. “What? You had friends over here?”
I gently put the peas around his knee, replacing the melting frozen packs from the doctor. “I had a friend come to help me clean so it would go faster. I wanted to get it done before your appointment was over.”
“I don’t want people here,” he told me stonily. “Don’t invite people over.”
“Sure,” I said, and ladled up some of the soup I had simmering on the stove. I carried
it over to him, along with whole-grain rolls and a big glass of water. “Anything for the pain?”
“No.” But I saw him wincing as he tried to adjust his body to eat without spilling. I worked quietly in the kitchen, and when I looked up again, he had put the bowl down and was fast asleep.
Davis slept until it was almost time for me to leave. I had dinner going in the oven and was sorting the enormous pile of mail that I had hauled in from the box at the street, when I looked up and saw his eyes on me.
“I was tired,” he announced.
“I could tell. I have to get going, but I wanted to talk to you about the weekend. We didn’t really work out how that was going to go.”
“I assume you’re busy on Sunday.”
I nodded. The Woodsmen had a home game. “Are you coming to the stadium?”
“No.” He didn’t explain. “Bye.”
“Well, just a minute. I don’t want you to be alone here for two days. Do you have someone else to call? A friend, maybe, who can come over?”
Not a muscle in his face moved and he didn’t answer.
“All right, then,” I forged ahead. “Why don’t I stop by tomorrow morning? Just to check in?”
“Why did you do that to your hair?” he asked me suddenly.
My hand flew up to it. “Straighten it? Last night? Well, I was supposed to go on a date. But instead I ended up working for you.” I laughed.
“It's nice like it is.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Knock me over with a feather, he had said something nice.
Does your boyfriend care that you’re working here? For me?” Davis asked. He adjusted his leg on the pillow.
“I’m not seeing anyone right now. Last night was a blind date my friend set up for me.”
“You’re that desperate?”
I stepped back, the smile fading from my face. “Dinner’s in the oven. Take it out when the timer dings. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Take the car.”
“What?” I turned back around. “Your car?”
“I’m not using it. Take it.”
“Um, ok. Thanks! I’ll be careful with it. I won’t tap anything, I mean. Have a good night.”
He nodded at me.
This was definitely a nicer way to get around than my grandma’s old 10-speed or my neighbor’s ancient truck. I rolled down the windows of Davis’ new SUV and turned up the radio. I sang at the top of my lungs all the way home.
Sam and I were supposed to practice first thing on Saturday morning, and I wasn’t leaving it to chance. I pulled up in front of his apartment building bright and early, and ran up the stairs and pounded on the door.
“What?” A woman wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and ratty underwear swung it open. Black circles of Friday night’s makeup smudged around her eyes.
“Hi, Dotty. Is Sam here?”
She didn’t answer, but she stepped back into the dingy apartment, I assumed to look for him. He walked to the door a minute later, shirtless and scratching his stomach. “What?”
No wonder the two of them got along. “You and I are supposed to go do a dress rehearsal with the cheerleaders now. Do me a favor and take a shower, since your Hank suit won’t totally block all that funk coming off you.”
“I’m busy.” He started to close the door, but I stuck my foot out and held it open.
“No, you’re not. We’re going. You don’t have to shower, I’ll just spray you with a hose at the stadium. Move.” Sam glowered at me but eventually said he was coming.
He did, thankfully, bathe, and came out to the parking looking much improved. He did a double take when he saw me sitting in Davis’ car. “What the hell is this? When did you hit the numbers?”
“It’s a loaner,” I explained briefly. “Have you looked at what Trish has been sending us?”
“I’ll do that now. Stop at that drive-through first. I need to eat.”
I handed him the bagel with cream cheese I had brought and the thermos of coffee. “Sam, I know your delaying tactics too well.”
“Shit, all right.” He opened up one of the numerous texts from Trish and squinted at it. I noticed that the font size on his phone had gone up again.
“Why don’t you get glasses if you need them?” I asked him.
“Getting old’s a bitch,” he informed me, and took a long swig of coffee. “What’s that?” He pointed at a small decal in the corner of the windshield.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Now he squinted at that. “I know what it is. That’s a player decal to get in the special entrance on game day and park in the special lot.” Sam stared at me. “What are you fooling with, Katie?”
“It’s not what you think, not at all. This is Davis Blake’s car…”
“Davis Blake? Tell me that you aren’t making it with that son of a bitch.”
“I’m not ‘making it’ with anyone!” I retorted. “I’m working for Davis, temporarily, until his knee is better.”
“Hmph.” It was an angry noise. “You be careful with him.”
“Why?” I asked him curiously. “Why don’t you like him? I didn’t think you cared about any of the players.”
“The players can all go in the corner and chew on broken glass.”
That was fun imagery. Sam had an instinctive hatred for anyone richer or more successful than he was. In other words, a lot of people.
“He threw for almost six hundred yards in the college championship and I was out two thousand bucks,” Sam explained.
“That’s why you hate him? Because his team won and you lost a bet?”
“No, not just that. Davis Blake is a particular kind of asshole. He has been since college, and everyone knows it. Selfish. He only cares about his own stats and he lets his teammates down.”
Pot, meet kettle. “Would you say that he’s the kind of person who would miss rehearsals with his partner, a lovely and charming woman who dresses as a small woodland animal, and let her get yelled at alone by the head choreographer?”
“Yep. He’s exactly that kind of guy.” Sam belched loudly.
“Ew!” I rolled down the windows.
Sam and I had worked out almost everything by the time Trish and the cheerleaders came on the field. We practiced the dances we had with them, because as Trish said, “Practice makes it perfect, or you’re fired.” Then I dropped Sam back at home and went over to check on Davis.
As I pulled up, I saw a piece of paper taped to the front door and I went up on the porch to read it. “Katie. Sleeping,” it stated in large block letters. “Do not disturb.” I shrugged. Ok then. I had other things to do with my day. I carefully turned the car around in the driveway and headed back out.
First, I went to see my grandma. Two years ago, we had decided together that I just couldn’t take care of her by myself anymore. The place where she lived now, a retirement home, wasn’t too bad. It was just kind of gloomy, like Davis’ house, and there wasn’t a lot in the way of activities. In a perfect world, we would have been able to hire nurses and help so she could stay with me, in the house that she and my grandpa had bought in 1961. But as it was, her pension, social security, and my salary barely paid for this place. The people who worked there were nice, though, and she always had a lot of friends. I carried in the big bouquet I had cut from our garden to brighten up her room.
She was still in bed when I came in. “There’s my Katie-bug,” she said, her eyes bright.
“Hi, Grammy.” I sat on the edge of the bed and kissed and hugged her. “Look at the roses.”
Her roommate sneezed loudly and falsely. “You can’t keep those in here. My allergies.”
Mrs. Lusk was a witch. My grandma and I gave each other a look. “Let’s go for a walk,” I said. “We’ll take the flowers with us,” I told Mrs. Lusk.
We talked and played backgammon in the common room. She wanted every detail about Davis.
“Is he as handsome in person as he is on TV?” she demanded.
I found myself
blushing a little. “Well, yes.” I lowered my voice. “Not like movie star handsome, but he’s just so…” What was the word? Attractive. Compelling. “He’s so big and strong.” My thoughts went to the underwear that Lindy had held up. I cleared my throat. “And his eyes are so pretty, such a pure blue. I mean, probably I shouldn’t use the word pretty about him, because the rest of his face looks so tough.” The thin white scar next to his eyebrow, the slight bump on his nose where he must have broken it. His implacable jaw.
“And those cute buns.”
I sighed. “Totally.” I refrained from telling her that I had already felt them when I helped him into his former truck. “Unfortunately, his interior doesn’t match his exterior. In other words, so far he has been a real pill. But he did loan me his new car. Want to go for a ride?”
“Lead the way, sister.”
We had a great afternoon. She needed some things at the drugstore, and I thought she needed some new clothes, too. I pushed her in the wheelchair and we shopped a little and had lunch together. She loved riding in Davis’ SUV. “How nice that he lets you use it. He probably doesn’t even fit in your grandfather’s car.”
I hadn’t told her exactly how I’d ended up with the job. “Grammy, Grandpa’s car isn’t running anymore.” I didn’t want to explain its violent demise.
She looked startled. “At all? It can’t be fixed?”
“No. I’m sorry. I have to get a new one.”
She looked out the window. “Your grandpa taught me to drive in that old hatchback. Isn’t that silly that I didn’t know how!”
“He was a good guy.”
“He sure was.” She looked out the window for a moment more, and I saw her quickly wipe her eyes. “Now,” she said briskly. “Tell me what kind of car you plan to buy and I’ll tell you some of the tricks they’ll pull to separate you from your hard-earned money.”
She had a lot to say about that, and when I dropped her off and went to the dealership, I felt well-prepared. I walked around the lot, mentally dismissing the models I passed. Too expensive, too expensive, too expensive.
“Can I help you with something?” I got involved in talking with Kevin, a salesman who at first was very excited because he thought I had a great trade-in with Davis’ car. When he heard that it wasn’t mine to trade, and further, which car I wanted and what I was willing to spend on it, he got less excited, but still wanted to sell me something. He tried every strong-arm tactic Grammy had warned me about and threw in a few new ones, too. “I’m treating you as if you were my own daughter,” he told me repeatedly. I felt sorry for his daughter, if that was the case.
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