"Oh, Laurie," I moan, putting the papers aside. "Mama has been so foolish."
I pull her close, hugging her. "I want Daddy back.”
"I want him too, Laurie. I need him too."
Chapter 26
Troy
"Troy Wood! We love you!"
I look up as I leave the practice facility to see the group of fans that have assembled around the gates. We've won two of our last three games, and the way the team is rolling, we've got a chance at maybe making the playoffs. With the success comes the fans again, and apparently, I'm becoming a sex symbol in Jacksonville, because for the past two weeks, I can barely leave the stadium without having women almost throwing themselves at me. Actually, one woman did throw herself at me, hurling herself into my arms after the team got back from a road win at New York.
The guy I used to be would’ve been loving it. They are Florida girls, after all, sun tanned and bikini toned, and they are lined up when I occasionally pause to sign autographs. It's part of my tradeoff with the team. They keep the league off my ass other than the fines for my arm tape, and in return, I sign more autographs and do some more photo ops.
The problem is, the last thing I want to do is a photo op. I know when I've looked at them in the paper later, the look in my eyes is that the last place I want to be in the world is taking the photo, which isn't fair to the groups. It's not that I don't appreciate fire fighters, or the Make-A-Wish foundation and what they do, but other than learning the Jacksonville system, I don’t want to be anywhere but home. The rest of the world just seems . . . not worth the trouble or the effort, and it’s too painful to boot.
"You’re turning into a recluse," I mutter to myself as I get into my now-leased Caddy and drive home. In probably the only move that in hindsight surprises me, I went all in on my house, buying a four-bedroom house on the outskirts of Jacksonville, one with a pool, a garage, and plenty of space, all on a full acre of land, which, while not huge compared to what some of the guys have, sets me back a pretty penny. Even if the price of land isn't all that over the top in the Jacksonville area, especially when compared to the current land rush in the Seattle area, a restricted access subdivision and a lakeside lot are pretty expensive.
I know why I did it, though. I had been thinking of Whitney and Laurie when I went with the agent to see the property. I had seen a room for Laurie, and space where I could put up a play set for her. I saw another room that we could use as a home office, and even a spare for a nursery, and a master bedroom that I would be able to share with Whitney. I saw a fantasy, and I let my fantasy guide my decision.
Ah well, at least the price isn't unmanageable. Ironically, my play for the team has led to me making even more money than I was making in Seattle, even after the fines, because I've picked up a few bonuses that the team has in place for good performance. Two interceptions, a touchdown, and once getting League Defensive Player of the Week have more than covered the fines from the front office.
I turn onto the Interstate, leaving the stadium area behind to make the twenty-minute drive to my house. While I'm driving, I get a call on my phone, so I drop it into the slot on the dash of my car to connect it to the in-car system. "Hello?"
"Troy? It's Cory. How are you doing in Florida?"
"I'm okay, Cory. How's San Fran?"
"Much better since the Hawks still suck ass," Cory says with a laugh. "One win. One fucking win, and it's only going to get worse. Now we just have to worry about Arizona."
"Maybe, but don't gloat too much. I still have a lot of friends on that team, remember?"
Cory sobers and clears his throat. "You're right, sorry. Anyway, I wanted to call because there was an actual withdrawal on that account you asked me to set up for Laurie. The fifteen hundred dollars a week account?"
"Yeah, I know which one you're talking about." After Whitney cut me out, I had to go to other means to get the accounts for Laurie set up, so I went through Cory. The account was set up in Laurie's name, but Patricia Nelson was given signatory access to the account. I would’ve told Cory to add Whitney, but she never returned his calls to get the information.
“There was a withdrawal of ten thousand dollars. I wanted to double check the numbers, and it's legit. Anything you want me to do?"
"Is there any sign that the money is being stolen?"
"No, totally legit withdrawal. Whitney herself is on the ATM video taking the money out. Now I know that's technically a violation. I mean the card's in her Mom's name, but you know what I mean."
I nod before I remember that I'm on a phone. My car does have good sound quality. "Okay. Well, keep the money going in, and if the balance drops below five hundred, give me a call. Keep monitoring it. I'm sure Whitney's using it for the right reasons. Patricia wouldn't have passed over the card otherwise."
"All right. Hey, did I tell you? Your patronage has gotten me a promotion. I actually have my own office instead of just a desk now."
"Congrats. How many secretaries have you tried to seduce on that desk so far?"
"Give me time, Troy. Give me time. Hey, personal note, and then I'll let you go. I can hear the car engine and I know cops can be a bitch about talking while driving. I don’t know what the law is there. You're doing okay with everything, like personal wise and stuff?"
"I will be—I'm making it, at least."
"Okay then, I'll let you go. Keep your head up, and keep your eye on the ball. Helps on the tackles, you know."
Cory laughs and hangs up the phone. I think about what he said about the money, and part of me is at least grateful that Whitney is using it. Hell, maybe she’s using it to get Laurie a trip to Disneyland or something. I have faith in her. She's going to use it for the right thing.
I get off the Interstate and onto the smaller streets that lead to my subdivision, my mind tired after a long day of practice. I'm just glad that tomorrow is a day off and that I'll be able to sleep in before getting ready for the next game.
When I get close to my house, I see something that makes me stop short, slamming my brakes. There's a car parked in front of the house, and in the late afternoon shadows by the front door, I swear I see two people sitting. I must be seeing things, though, and as I pull closer, I realize I'm not. I barely even notice when I half run over the curb pulling into my driveway, knocking over my mailbox, and slam the car into park, the little blonde girl already up and running toward me. "Daddy!"
"Laurie!" I call out, scooping her up and swinging her around in a huge circle, hugging her tight. "Oh, baby girl, I’ve missed you so much. I love you so much, Laurie."
"I love you too, Daddy," Laurie says, and I hold her tight until she squirms a little, I'm holding so tightly. "Daddy, I need to breathe!"
"Sorry," I say, setting her down. I'm so enchanted by her that I barely notice Whitney coming up until she's only a few feet from me. I look up and can see that she's nervous, afraid that I will reject her. But I can never do that. "Laurie, take the keys and run inside. How long have you been sitting out here?"
"Only a little while. What's inside?"
"Cold water," I say, looking down. "Keep yourself safe in Florida, and drink a lot of cold water, okay? Besides, I need to talk to Mama."
"Okay. When you come inside, I have something to show you. I drew pictures!"
"And I want to see them," I promise sincerely. "Give me a few minutes, okay?"
"Okay.”
Laurie takes off like a jackrabbit up the lawn, and I'm face to face with Whitney, silence between us. I look into her beautiful face, and I can't be angry. I can't do anything but tell her the truth. "I missed you."
Whitney nods and reaches out, taking my hand. "I missed you."
"I'm so glad you’re here."
Whitney nods again, then trembles, starting to fall to her knees. I catch her and hold her as she sobs, begging me in a choked voice for forgiveness that doesn’t have to be given. Instead, I hold her, kissing her temples and telling her it’s okay. "Whitney, it doesn't matter. I
love you."
"Troy, I was so foolish. I'm sorry."
"No, you don't need to be sorry. I should have told you about the trade. I'm sorry. Whitney . . . if you don't want me to be a football player, to live the League life, I won't. I'll retire after this season if you want me to."
Whitney shakes her head and hugs me tight. "No. No matter where you go, no matter if it's Jacksonville, New York, Los Angeles, or even Cleveland, I want to be with you."
I know what to do, and without hesitating, I get down on my knees. "Then let's do it the right way. Whitney . . . will you marry me?"
Whitney is so surprised that she doesn't even move except to make a tiny little squeak that catches us both off guard. She clears her throat and tries again. "You really want to marry me after all I’ve put you through?”
I nod, taking her hand. "I want us to be a family more than anything else in the world. Be my wife, and let's not deny that we are meant to be together. No matter what."
"No matter what," Whitney echoes, then smiles. "Oh yes, yes, I’ll marry you, Troy. On one condition."
"What's that?" Her and her conditions.
"We do it after you play in the Pro Bowl."
I grin and pick Whitney up, carrying her toward the door to the house. "Well, that'll be in February . . . sure. March or April is a great time to get married. Although maybe June is best."
"Why June?"
"I know exactly who I want to be my best man, and he's busy until then."
I set Whitney down on the edge of the slate porch that leads indoors and see Laurie looking at us with hope in her eyes. "Mama?"
"Yes, honey, we're staying," Whitney says. "We're going to stay together."
"Come on," I say, taking Laurie's hand on one side and Whitney's on the other. "This place has four bedrooms, and I want you to pick out which of the three empty ones is going to be yours. And tomorrow, maybe we can look at taking you furniture shopping."
"Really? My own bedroom?"
"Uh-huh. Welcome home, baby girl. Welcome home."
Epilogue
Whitney
“I’ve been informed that the couple has written their own vows. Troy, if you would go first?"
It's an extravagant wedding—at least part of me says so—but after getting to the Pro Bowl and signing a new contract with Jacksonville that makes Troy one of the highest paid linebackers in the game, I'm not all that averse to splurging on this momentous occasion. I'm wearing a white Vera Wang knee-length dress, and the sand is warm between my toes on the beach in the Bahamas that Troy rented for our wedding and reception. Behind me are Dani and Mom, who are acting as my bridesmaids, wearing blue Wang dresses of their own, bought and not rented, a gift to them from Troy. I'd been tempted as a joke to put Dani in the same horrible taffeta-style monstrosity that she had for her wedding, but I know the choice hadn't been hers, but Pete's mother’s.
Speaking of Pete, he and Cory have been gawking the whole time as they find themselves surrounded by professional football players, their wives and girlfriends. Troy didn't invite the whole team, but at least six members of the starting defense and a few other players he's formed friendships with made the trip, and I think the caterer finally understands why our wedding party of forty-six ordered a sixty-person buffet. Even I'm still shocked at the massive size of some of Troy's teammates, who have accepted me and Laurie with generally open arms, especially the ones here today.
I actually feel bad for Cory. He's still a manwhore, at least in his mind, but he works too much to actually be one. He's not too sure who he can approach around the wedding without possibly incurring the wrath of very large, athletic men who could inflict serious harm on him. Troy told me last night that he would make sure that Cory was introduced to some of the single ladies at the reception, just to be on the safe side. Cory's trying to calm down, and I think if he can find the right lady, he'll be a good man someday.
Cory and Pete are not the best man, though, as next to Troy is the man who had, through his own love of Troy, brought us back together. When I'd gone to his house, in tears and begging, Coach Steve Jackson had not only immediately agreed, but booked our reservations right away, and he even promised to not tell Troy about it. Thankfully, Troy's diligence on financial matters didn't ruin the surprise.
So it’s only appropriate, I guess, to have 'Coach' as Troy's best man while Dani is my maid of honor. After all, who else has done more to bring the two of us together? The man who is Troy's de facto father and the woman who is my soul sister could have no other place in our wedding than as the people who stand by our side during this important moment.
Troy clears his throat, and I have to restrain myself from reaching up to kiss him already—he looks so handsome, and yes, a little nervous in his tuxedo. "There are some couples, some situations that are just fated. Whitney, we've been through a lot, but at each step of the way, my heart has belonged to you. I know that with you by my side, life is going to be a wonderful adventure, and I love you for that. I can't promise you that every day is going to be easy, but I do promise you, forever and always, that I’ll love you, respect you, and honor you. This I vow."
The minister turns his head to me and nods. "Whitney?"
"I've so many times in our relationship been just about the stupidest, most hard-headed, self-destructive woman that I can think of. But each time, there have been three things that have saved me. First," I say, turning my head to glance at Dani and Mom before returning my gaze to Troy, "some very good people whom I love and who love me enough to have helped me, even if it meant being firm with me. Second, a good dose of luck. But third, and most importantly, your unfailing, never wavering, infinite love. Troy, you've told me so many times in our relationship that I saved you from going down a dark path, but what you never realize is that you saved me too. It’s because of this that I promise you my love, my heart and soul, my everything . . . forever. This I vow."
When it’s time for the rings, Laurie is nearly so nervous as the ring bearer that she has to get a gentle nudge from Mom to come up with her little pillow with the rings, earning a chuckle from the crowd. Still, she’s fascinated to be right there as her mama and daddy slide the rings on each other's finger, and she’s cheering louder than even the adults when we exchange our kiss.
The reception takes place at the same resort as the ceremony, where we dance and feast as the June sun descends into the Caribbean. Troy and I share a laugh when Cory comes over to our table, red-faced. "What's up, Cory?"
"Uhm, Whitney . . . would you be too upset if I asked your Mom to dance with me?"
It takes me a second to realize what he's saying, and when I realize what he’s asking, I laugh so hard and give him a kiss on the cheek. "With my blessing. Just be careful."
"I know. I don't want Troy mad at me."
Troy shakes his head and points at Mom, who’s currently chatting with Coach Jackson's wife, while Laurie and Gregory Jackson, Coach's son, both share some cake. Greg is just about ready to go to junior high school, and I can tell he's torn between wanting to hang out with Laurie, where he can at least feel safe and have fun, and wanting to hang out with the adults, especially the women who are suddenly becoming more enticing to him. Still, Laurie's fun to hang out with, and they're content for now.
Troy looks at Cory. "I won't sugarcoat it, Cory. She might be more woman than you can handle. And don't let the fact that she's forty-two fool you. She's got more energy than half the guys I play with."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks," Cory says, turning and walking away. Troy and I follow him with our eyes, and Troy leans over, whispering in my ear and putting on a horrible accent—trying to mimic one of those national geographic voices, probably something he picked up from Dani.
"The young buck, not at all aware of the possibilities and potential danger before him, goes into the territory of the cougar, who eyes the buck with interest. It’ll be interesting if—yes, the cougar has decided to toy with the young buck, to see if it’s as delici
ous a meal as it appears."
"You're terrible," I say with a smile, giving Troy a kiss on the lips, one of a thousand it feels like so far today, and still, I'm not satiated. "My Mom is hardly a cougar."
“You’re right, but she is beautiful, much like her daughter," Troy replies, kissing me again. "And as for the rest, well, Cory could do a lot worse."
"Hmm, Mom could do a lot worse. Say, how about you and I get out of here? There's a beachside bungalow that’s calling our names."
"And Laurie?"
I point to Dani and Pete, who are dancing together and still looking like they're on their own honeymoon after a year of marriage. It's cute and heartwarming. After our honeymoon, we're going to go back to Silver Lake Falls for a month before Troy starts offseason workouts, and it'll be nice to spend some time back home. "Dani already agreed to take Laurie with her. She says she and Pete need the practice anyway. They're planning, now that she's on track for her PhD and has a good job lined up too, that maybe they can look at becoming parents."
Troy smiles and leans in, whispering in my ear. "I was thinking the same thing."
I shiver as Troy runs his hand up my thigh, his hand so warm and reaching higher, higher . . . "You want another baby?"
Troy nods and his eyes are deep blue with desire. "Don't you?"
I nod, smiling. "Why do you think I stopped the pills a month ago?"
Troy takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, but before we can fully escape, Dani intervenes, getting on the mike and announcing a couple's dance. She’s laughing as I give her a dirty look, and I know that she's already anticipated Troy and me making an early exit. "One dance, that's all," she says, holding up a finger. "Please?"
The music starts, and I notice that it’s a song I hadn't heard before, at least one I hadn't danced to before. "What’s this?"
Troy smiles and takes me in his arms. "When I went to the Winter Formal stag, Dani danced with me one time. She knew she was standing in for you, though, as I had your letter in my jacket pocket."
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