Running Home to You (The Running Series)

by Sweeney, Suzanne

  As soon as Evan ends the phone call, he heads right over to Adam and gives him a punch in the arm, much harder than I think is necessary. “What the fuck, Adam? You let me think I was getting cut, you prick!” He reaches out a hand to help Adam to his feet and the men exchange a quick, masculine hug with hard slaps on the back.

  “That look on your face was priceless, man. I thought you were going to shit a brick when that phone rang. I wish I had a camera. Between that and that crap all over your chest, I could make some real money off that one. You know, sell it to all the tabloids with some bullshit story about Juliette torturing you and forcing you to do things against your will.”

  “She does. It’s terrible, actually. She wouldn’t let me sleep last night until I ... until I ... it’s just too terrible to say!” Evan whines. “I don’t know what she expects from me. I’m only human, I have my limits.” Evan sniffles like he’s tearing up. “No means no, Juliette.”

  “I don’t remember hearing, ‘no’. The way I remember it was more like, ‘Don’t. Stop. Don’t. Stop.’”

  “You’re an animal,” Evan teases. He sweeps me up in his arms and plants kisses all over my face and neck. “But I still love you.”

  “That’s good to hear, because I’m not going anywhere.” When Evan places my feet back on the floor, I demand to know, “Now, will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “Matt Ortiz is out for the rest of the season with a serious heart condition. The coach is moving me to the starting position, Juliette. He’s making it official at a press conference later today. I have to be down there by noon.”

  “Oh. My. God. Evan, that’s beyond amazing. Holy crap.”

  “Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it, Juliette. Did I ever explain to you what a Playtime Incentive is?”

  I shake my head, “No.”

  “You need to sit down for this.” Evan takes my hand and leads me to the loveseat. He sits beside me and explains. “There is a clause in my contract that awards a bonus for playtime. In my years with the Texans, I’ve never even come close to triggering that clause.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, still not understanding completely.

  “Sorry. Let me back up. If I play sixty percent of the snaps, I will get a $500,000 bonus.”

  “Evan, that’s a half a million dollars!” I’m flabbergasted.

  “Well, if you like that, then you’re going to love this. If I make it through the entire season, there’s a good chance I could get seventy or eighty percent of the snaps. Seventy percent will earn me a million dollar bonus and eighty percent will pay off one point five million dollars.” Evan sits back in his chair, running his hands through this hair and rubbing his head, trying to get the immensity of it to sink in.

  “Tell her about the playoffs, Mac,” Adam insists.

  “Juliette, if we actually make it to the playoffs, my bonus jumps to two million dollars.” My eyes grow wide. I can’t even wrap my mind around numbers like that. Millions, not one, but two. “But I have to tell you, the chances of a quarterback making it to the playoffs his first year with a new team is not great.”

  I don’t even know what to say. Evan already has enough money to keep us living quite comfortably.

  “Let’s not forget that my good fortune comes at the expense of a really outstanding player. Matt should have had a few more good years on the field. He’s being taken out way before his time,” Evan reminds us.

  “Mac, I think it would be a good idea for you to go see Matt after the press conference. I can get someone from SI there,” Adam suggests. “I’d like to document the passing of the torch. It would show that Matt has confidence in you and that you have his full support. It would mean a lot to the fans to see that.”

  “I’m going to call Nicole first.” Evan turns to me to clarify, “Matt’s wife.” He returns his attention to Adam, “If Matt’s well enough for visitors, I’ll go, but without the press. There’s no way, it’s just not right. I’ll get the fans my way. Where is he, anyway?”

  “He’s at U-Penn in Philly. It’s only a forty-five minute drive from the stadium. He’s going to be there a while. He’s lucky to be alive,” Adam explains.

  I haven’t met Matt yet, but still I worry for him and his family. “Adam, do you have any details you can share? Do you know what happened? Isn’t he a little too young to have a heart attack?”

  “His wife rushed him to the hospital when he was having trouble breathing,” Adam explains. “Have you ever heard stories about athletes dying suddenly without warning, especially after getting hit in the chest? Young men, in particular, who seem to be in perfect health?” I nod. “Well, the main cause is a thickening of the heart muscles. It’s called HCM which stands for Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, and in sports, it’s a killer. Matt’s testing indicates his heart has the markers for HCM. He’s lucky it happened when he was home with his family and not getting sacked on the field. It could have been a fatal blow.”

  “I wonder why no one picked up on it sooner,” Evan replies.

  “I actually know the answer to that,” Adam explains. “The team doctor was called in last night. The coaches were afraid we might be liable for clearing him to play with a serious cardiac disorder like that. It turns out that athletes’ hearts are larger than a normal heart. Their hearts are stronger and pump more blood than average hearts, and are a major reason why the athletes can compete at the highest levels. So an enlarged heart isn’t a warning sign, it’s an expected finding.”

  “See Evan, I told you! You do have a big heart.” He just rolls his eyes. That’s okay, I thought it was funny.

  Adam fills us in on the rest of the details from the meeting. There was some debate among the coaches about what would be best move for the team. Not everyone wanted to go with Evan. A few of them wanted to call Trent Darcy out of retirement. But in the end, the best man won.

  Adam agrees to stay for a nice big homemade celebratory breakfast. Evan has a few hours before he has to drive down to the stadium. He spends that time eating, preparing what he wants to say at the press conference, and calling his father. It’s the phone call every father dreams about receiving from his son. Evan is just as excited to make the call. Until now, there hasn’t been a lot of good news to share.

  “Jette, it’s almost time. Turn the TV on!” Emmy insists. I swear she’s almost as excited as I am. This is even more exciting than watching Evan at the ESPYs. That night, I was watching him smile for the camera and talk about something I wasn’t all that interested in. Sure, it was cool to watch him sharing the stage with real celebrities, but I’ve seen that before. I’ve even met a few and frankly, it’s not that big of a deal.

  At four o’clock, the entire restaurant goes silent and the staff gathers around the projection screen to watch the big announcement. Head coach Louis Vinciguerra begins the conference by sharing the devastating news that Matt Ortiz will be out for the remainder of the season. He gives them just enough information to answer their basic questions about his diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis. As I listen, it makes me just a little uncomfortable. This poor man who just happens to play football for a living is having all his private medical details discussed and debated publicly. This is the side of the NFL that upsets me – the total and complete loss of privacy.

  The Offensive Coordinator and the Quarterback Coach come out next to discuss their decision to place Evan in the starting position. They have such glowing things to say about him, his skill, his dedication, and his leadership qualities. They are placing their complete confidence in him and don’t seem to be wavering in the least bit.

  They open up the discussion for questions from the press. Most of them ask statistical questions about his passing, rushing, and sacks. One clown asks about his mental state. I want to climb through the screen and strangle him. Another asks about his physical recovery, and at that point, the team physician is brought out. I want them all to stop talking and bring out Evan, already.

 
Finally, they bring Evan to the podium. My heart stops when I see him standing there in front of the team’s backdrop that is covered with the Sentinels logo and sponsor’s names. He’s wearing his red jersey today. I’m a little surprised to see him clean-shaven; he left this morning with a chin full of stubble. Always the class act, his first public comment is to the Ortiz family to let them know that they are in his thoughts and prayers. Next, he gives thanks to the coaching staff for putting their complete trust in him to lead the team this season.

  He answers a few questions about his projections for the season and how he’s going to handle the first game of the season, which just happens to be against his former team, the Texans. He handles it deftly with confidence and determination. He’s a real professional and I couldn’t be prouder. It’s when he answers the last question of the day that he proves to the world how big his heart really is.

  “As of today, I'm an NFL starting quarterback. There are only thirty-two guys in the entire world who get to do this, and I'm one of them. I know how lucky and fortunate I am to be able to say that. So, the advice that I’m going to remember each time I take the field comes from my father. When I gave him the news, he had exactly six words of wisdom for me that I’ll never forget, ‘You better not mess it up.’ I just hope I don’t let him or the rest of you down.”

  Within minutes of his press conference ending, I get a call from Evan. “I can’t believe you’re calling me right now. What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving in twenty to head to U-Penn. Matt’s having surgery tomorrow. I should be home by eight. Where are you going to be?”

  “I’ll be at Auggie’s.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds good. Want me to bring home dinner for you? I’m bringing home something for Auggie. We could all eat together.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m sure I’ll be starving by then. Bring me one of Reese’s famous Brie Burgers. Gotta go. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, baby.” I wish he were here with me right now. Lucky for me, the restaurant is packed enough that I can keep myself busy. Time flies by and before I know it, it’s six o’clock and time for a shift change. I slip into my office to pay some bills and go through the mail.

  I collect all three of our meals: a Brie Burger for Evan, a bacon-avocado Panini for Auggie, and a chicken Caesar wrap for me. When I arrive at Auggie’s, he’s not his normal vibrant self. He looks like he’s been sitting on the couch for hours. His lunch is sitting on the coffee table untouched. “Hey, Sunshine. What’s going on?” I give him a kiss and bring our dinner to the kitchen.

  “I saw Big Mac on TV, Jepetto. He’s looking good, girl. You happy?” His voice is lifeless, and it seems like it’s taking great effort on his part to hold a conversation.

  “Very happy, Augs. But something’s wrong, you don’t look so good. How are you feeling? You look pale.” I touch his forehead to check for a fever. He’s clammy, but not feverish.

  “I’ve been getting cramps on and off all day. It’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle. Just a bad day, that’s all, Jepetto. But I’m so glad you’re here. Are you staying?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to try to eat something? It looks like you haven’t eaten a thing today.” I start cleaning up his sandwich from lunch.

  “I’m really not hungry. Can you just put the sandwich away? I’ll have it for lunch tomorrow.”

  I sit down with Auggie and keep him company while we wait for Evan. He tells me about Lucas’ filming schedule and all the on-set gossip. He’s got at least six more weeks of shooting. Auggie misses him, but at least they can Skype as often as Lucas’ schedule allows.

  Then it’s my turn to talk about everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. I help Auggie over to the window to show off my new ride. It’s getting dark out, so he can’t see it too well. I promise to show it to him first thing in the morning.

  “So, based on the new car and last night’s sleeping arrangement, I take it you worked things out during your visit to the therapist?” he asks, shifting around uncomfortably on the couch.

  Auggie is the only one who knows all the details of our visits. I even told him about Evan giving blood during our last appointment. Not that long ago, we sat in this very room and convinced one another and ourselves that Evan was suffering from PTSD. We were certain. The plan was to wait for Evan to agree to counseling before we would move forward.

  “You’re never going to believe this, but Dr. Falkowski found traces of steroids in Evan’s system.”

  “Holy shrinkage, Batman. Didn’t you notice any changes to the size of his package? I would have thought that when his junk started to shrink, it would have tipped you off.” He chuckles to himself, then winces from the pain. If he were well, I’d smack him for that remark.

  “I can’t believe you asked that, Aug. But no, there were no physical signs.”

  “So let me get this straight, you found out he’s taking drugs and you took him back just like that? I thought I taught you better than that, girl.”

  “No, you don’t get it. Evan never took drugs. Someone else gave them to him. He never knew.”

  “How’s that possible? Wouldn’t you know it if someone was shooting you up with drugs, Jepetto? I want to believe him, really, I do. But it just doesn’t sound right.”

  “Think about it, Auggie. If Evan knew he was taking drugs, why would he consent to drug testing twice? And by the way, he’s been getting cortisone injections by the team physician along with vitamin and mineral supplements from the team trainer. Either one of them could have done it, easily.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Is Evan going to fire them all?” he asks.

  “He can’t. They don’t work for him, they work for the team. Besides, he wants to move forward and not waste his energy looking back at things he can’t change. But I guarantee, Evan won’t be letting anyone give him any more shots or supplements, that’s for sure.”

  “Do you think Adam knows anything, Jette? He’s got his nose so far up Evan’s ass, I’m surprised he doesn’t have pink eye.”

  “Well, I’m glad you still have your sense of humor, Auggie. But I’m not going down that road with you. Remember what happened last time we were convinced that Derek was involved with some crazy shit? That blew up in all our faces. I won’t let that happen again.”

  “I’m just sayin’, Evan doesn’t make a move without Adam’s approval, and you know it. Are you going to let this go? I know you, Jepetto. You’re like a dog with a bone. You can’t just walk away from this without finding out some answers.” Damn, he knows me too well.

  “No, you’re right. I would love to be able to get to the bottom of this. But I have to be very careful. If word gets out about this situation, Evan could be in serious trouble. Now that he’s the starting quarterback, it’s more important than ever to keep this quiet.”

  “Understood. Well, no one will hear anything from me. How did Evan handle the news? Is he okay?”

  “The past twenty-four hours have been, as Emmy would say, amazeballs. Evan feels like a new man. He knows there’s nothing wrong with him and he knows why he was so angry all the time. It’s really great having my boyfriend back. I’ve missed him so much.”

  Auggie wants details about our reconciliation. I tell him about Evan’s romantic gesture with dinner and homemade French toast for dessert. He’s very impressed. When I tell him about how I marked up Evan’s beautiful chest, he told me, “That’s kinda hot, Jette my Pet. I didn’t know you had it in you, girl. You go ahead and tear that boy up. He can handle it.”

  I love Auggie. He just makes me laugh. Finally, a little after eight, Evan shows up, half starved. He scarfs down his burger, and it looks like he’s still hungry. Auggie offers him his sandwich, and Evan finishes that off, too. “There was no time for lunch today. I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast,” he explains.

  Evan tells us about his visit with M
att and it sounds like it went very well. Matt’s in good spirits, despite his present condition. He’s scheduled for a surgical procedure tomorrow. Evan says that now that Matt’s doctors know what the problem is, they can manage his health fairly well. Unfortunately, they don’t think he’ll ever be able to play football again. But he’s still young, not yet forty. Matt is already thinking about a second career coaching or sports casting.

  By ten o’clock, it’s time to help Auggie to bed. He’s been trying his best to keep up with the conversation, but at this point, he’s just completely worn out. I help Auggie to his room while Evan cleans up.

  “Evan, I’m worried about Auggie. He doesn’t look good. He puts on a good show, but I can tell something’s wrong. He should be getting better, not worse. Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”

  “Nope, my calendar’s wide open.”

  “Good, keep it that way. We may be taking Auggie to see his doctor. I’ll call you in the morning and let you know how the night was. I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep tonight.”

  “Baby, I just got you back. I’m not going home without you. Where ever you are is where I want to be. If you’re sleeping here, then so am I.”

  He’s so sweet. I really do want him here, but I didn’t want to push too hard or too fast. “Okay.” We decide to curl up on the couch together and binge-watch a little Game of Thrones until after midnight. I sneak in Auggie’s room to check on him, and he seems to be resting comfortably. I hope he stays that way.

  My bed is smaller than Evan’s. I undress and crawl into bed first. Evan follows after me, peeling off his clothes and spooning with me. I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and his warm body curled up against me. My body fits so perfectly against the curves of his, it’s like he was made just for me.