Harley Brennan, Running Back

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Harley Brennan, Running Back Page 13

by Jean C. Joachim


  “Are you kidding?” Harley sat up straight. “No way. The wedding is private. Not taking it to the masses. I don’t think so.”

  “But that would be so great for my career. Think how I’d look in a fabulous, white gown. I bet I could get the station to pick up the tab on a Vera Wang original, designed just for me. Maybe I could do some modeling for her too?”

  “What? I thought we were talking about our marriage, and now, you’re trying to turn this into a modeling gig?”

  “You can’t let opportunity pass you by. You’re already established in your career. I’m not. I need to do everything I can to be visible. Someday, a director will be flipping through the Internet, and my picture’ll come up. And he’ll say, ‘she’d be perfect as the star in my next movie.’ That’s how it’s done, Harley.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I just know it. Trust me.”

  Trust was the last thing coming Vanessa’s way from the running back.

  “Or you could call Penny Davis and arrange for me to meet Gunther Quill.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” He took a slug of his beer.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you can’t act. You have no experience. Have taken no classes. I’m not risking my reputation with my best friend’s wife for someone who may have no talent.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Her pout might be her most unattractive look.

  “How can I be confident about something you’ve never done? Get real. If you had some great performances under your belt, it’d be different. Don’t ask for favors you don’t deserve.”

  “How does a girl break in then?”

  “I have no idea. What’s wrong with just being a wife and mother?”

  Her gaze didn’t meet his stare.

  They finished up. Carla brought the check, and Harley dropped two twenties on the table. A couple of guys called and waved to them as they left.

  “That’s a big tip,” Vanessa said as she waltzed through the door he held open.

  “Damn right. Carla works hard. She deserves it.”

  “She’s married to a player. She’s rich. She doesn’t need it.”

  “That’s not how it works. This place is hers. She prides herself on being self-sufficient. Sure Trunk helps out if she needs it. But Carla runs the place on her own.”

  “What about us? What about me? I need it too.”

  “You do something nice, like serving me a great dinner, and I’ll leave you a big tip too.”

  “Don’t be snide, Harley. It doesn’t look good on you. Now, where can a girl get a good salad in this cow town?”

  Chapter Ten

  Across town in Nutmeg State Park, Verna Carruthers attended her church supper. Beautiful weather and the long June day allowed the parishioners to set up outside. Her date, Hank Montgomery, Griff’s dad, was helping with the grill while Verna set places at the picnic tables.

  “That Hank is a mighty good looking man,” said Sadie Dorrett as she followed Verna, laying paper plates between the utensils.

  “Sure is. Nice too.”

  “You’ve been keeping company with him for some time now.”

  “It’s called ‘dating’ now” The blonde woman chuckled.

  “Of course, of course. When you gettin’ married?” Sadie, eighty-three on her next birthday, looked down her glasses at Verna, a youthful sixty-three.

  “That’s pretty personal, Sadie.”

  “Well? Watcha waitin’ for? The next millennium?”

  “I don’t want to get married, if it’s any of your business. Which it isn’t, by the way.”

  “So, he didn’t ask you, eh? Too bad. Better find one who will. Good looks ain’t everything.”

  Verna’s mouth fell open. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t cuss at me, missy. Folks are beginning to talk. They see Hank’s car parked in front of your house late at night. And the next morning too. Marriage’ll fix hanky-panky talk.”

  “You’ve got a lotta nerve! I don’t give a damn who’s talking. It’s my life, and I’ll live it the way I please. And where Hank parks his car is nobody’s business.”

  “Suit yourself. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the pastor doesn’t take Hank aside today and ask him what his intentions are.”

  Verna stopped what she was doing to stare at Sadie. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  Sadie shook her head slowly. “I don’t know about that.”

  Pastor Grayson never did pull either Verna or Hank into a private conference at the picnic, but Sadie’s words stuck with Verna. When they got home, she moved away from him to unpack the hamper.

  “What the hell’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all day. Did I do something?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Feeling a little crowded’s all.” She continued her task, avoiding his gaze.

  “Crowded? You’re the one who invited me to this shindig.”

  “Did I drag you? So sorry. I thought you wanted to come.”

  “Of course, I did. Or I woulda stayed home.” He corralled her, clamping his hands on her arms. “Stay still a minute, will ya?”

  She stopped.

  “That’s better. What’s going on?” His bright eyes stared into hers.

  “I think you’d better go home tonight.”

  The shocked look on his face made her wince.

  “If you need some alone time, that’s fine. I get it.” He released her. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

  “Griff and Lauren invited me over there to a barbecue. Of course, you’re always included. But if you have other plans, that’s okay. No strings. Isn’t that what we agreed to?”

  A barbecue at Griff’s? Chip? The new baby? She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. She wanted to go, but hadn’t she already made a big deal about wanting her space? How could she jump at the chance? “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Since we spend every weekend together, I took it for granted that—”

  “That’s just it! You took it for granted.” She fisted her hands on her hips.

  “I didn’t mean I took you for granted. Just that we’ve been spending our weekends together for some time now.”

  “I know. Maybe we’d better take a little break.” What am I doing? But she couldn’t stop herself. Verna had ventured out on the limb and was now sawing it off.

  “What? What the hell’s going on?”

  “A little separation, maybe?” A weekend without your car in my driveway?

  “Verna, I love you. I’m committed to us. Would you please say what’s on your mind?”

  Words stuck in her throat. One glimpse of his crestfallen face and pangs of regret stung her heart. She was hurting him, and why? Because some old biddy questioned her morals. Shame flowed through her, but she couldn’t stop herself. Being fodder for church gossip disturbed her.

  “I think we should see other people too.” The shocked look on his face this time made her suck in air. Too late to take it back.

  “I don’t want to see anyone else. If you do, go ahead. Knock yourself out. Sleep with every eligible guy on the Eastern seaboard. Just come back to me when you’re done.” Hank picked up his denim jacket and was out the door before she could fashion a reply.

  “What have I done?” she asked aloud.

  Being that she was alone, there was no answer.

  * * * *

  Terror filled Verna’s heart. She’d vowed never to use an Internet dating site, yet here she was, about to click open a reply to her post on Hearts Unite. The day after her little tiff with Hank, she’d poured herself a large glass of wine and signed up, thinking maybe she’d find a marrying man, since Hank wasn’t. Now, she had two who wanted to meet, and it scared the crap out of her.

  She closed her eyes as she clicked. Cracking one open, she spied the countenance of an ordinary man. Not bad looking. But no Hank Montgomery. Still, his profile was pleasant enough. He was a football fan who lived
in Rhode Island. His name was Jerry Summerfield, he was divorced, and a retired office manager. He wanted to take her to dinner and offered to drive down for the privilege.

  She clicked “yes.” I said I want to date others. Might as well do it. Nothing to lose. I’ll meet him at the restaurant. Not having a stranger picking me up here.

  Before she could change her mind, they’d agreed to meet at The Savage Beast.

  What the hell have I done? But her mind had gone blank when he’d asked her for a restaurant. He’d popped The Beast in there before she could think. She prayed Buddy wouldn’t show up. Or Hank. Her eyes widened, and her pulse doubled. She hadn’t thought about Hank turning up there. Crap! He’ll kill me! And all for some guy she didn’t even know. Verna, you’re losing your grip.

  Sunday, she’d skipped church. Didn’t want to face Sadie or have the Pastor take her aside and lecture her on the joys of celibacy. Celibacy, hah! She could give him a lecture on the joys of sex. As taught by Hank Montgomery. What was she doing? Why was she upending her life, just because a couple of people she didn’t respect might think less of her? Well, she did respect the pastor. Or she had, until now.

  By Tuesday, the day of her big date, regret filled her heart. Verna wished she could talk to Buddy, but he’d be the last person she could confide in. Frankly, the only person she’d relied on for a long time had been Hank. She couldn’t go to him. Not now. She sat down at her kitchen table and picked up her iced tea. If she’d have gone to Hank in the first place, instead of making him out to be a bad guy, maybe she could have averted this whole mess.

  She was knee-deep in this and getting out would be hard. Damn sanctimonious old biddy. Already regretting this stupid meeting with Jerry, she dragged herself into her bedroom to pick out an outfit to wear. By the time she was dressed, a heaviness weighed her down. Anyone watching would think she was about to face a firing squad.

  We’ll eat fast then get out of there. I’ll have a headache or something. Go home alone. Take my name and stupid, effing profile off that site and pretend this never happened. Then, I’ll call Hank and beg forgiveness. Having a plan restored her confidence. She slid behind the wheel, checked her watch, and headed for The Savage Beast.

  Tuesday wasn’t a big night at The Beast, especially off-season. Verna breathed a sigh of relief when she walked through the door and saw only two people at a table and two at the bar—one being Trunk Mahoney. Jerry, her blind date, hadn’t shown up yet. The footballer escorted her to a table, gave her two menus, and took her drink order. She needed something to bolster her resolve. She kept murmuring to herself, “Eat fast. Eat fast.” As she was considering skipping dinner altogether, Jerry walked in.

  He recognized her right away. He wore a navy, sport jacket, khaki pants, a wide smile, and a big belly. She cringed inside. The image of Hank’s flat middle flashed through her brain, making her fingers tingle for a second. Don’t judge a book by its cover.

  “You must be Verna.”

  She nodded. He took her hand and kissed it before sitting down. Carla came and took their order. She raised an eyebrow at Verna, who looked away.

  “You might want to move back a bit,” Carla advised. She indicated a table by the window.

  Verna shot her a quizzical look.

  “It’s darts night,” she said, before leaving.

  “Darts night?”

  “Yep. It’s new. Tonight’s the first tournament. That’s another reason I wanted to come here. Place should be crawling with Kings players.” He glanced at his watch. “It starts in fifteen minutes.”

  Blood drained from Verna’s face, and her breath came rapidly.

  “Are you okay? You look kinda pale,” he asked.

  “Fine,” she squeaked out, taking a gulp of her wine.

  Jerry positioned his chair to face the door, turning his back to Verna. Relief surged through her. She didn’t have to paste on a placid expression, as she was dying inside. Every time the door opened, she prayed she wouldn’t see Buddy coming through. With their new addition, Jake, she doubted he’d be taking time away from Emmy and the baby for a stupid darts game. Of course, her son would never do anything that dumb.

  Nothing as ridiculously stupid as she was doing. Shame coursed through her. Not only was she stepping out on Hank, but she was playing Jerry for a fool. She wasn’t one bit interested in him, and needed to learn to say ‘no’, and he’d probably insist on picking up the check, all for nothing.

  First to come through the door was Bullhorn Brodsky, offensive lineman, and his wife Samantha. Close behind was Devon Drake and his fiancée, Stormy. Devon and Bull were arguing. They raised a hand in acknowledgment to Verna, along with a puzzled look. They expect to see me with Hank. I’ll have some explaining to do. And I can forget Hank not finding out. She shifted in her seat.

  Trunk called out the parameters for the competition. The three Kings stood together and called for challengers. Jerry stood up, as did two other men. Now, they had two teams.

  So, that’s why he came here? I was just an excuse. Guilt over leading Jerry on disappeared like clothes on a stripper. A fourth man entered and volunteered. He was put on the shelf until a fourth King showed up. Trunk was helping Carla with the beer while the men rolled up their sleeves to get ready.

  Verna chuckled at the silliness of the football players, goofing on each other, and the seriousness of the challengers.

  Just as the fourth man was about to step down, the door swung open and a voice called out, “Wait for me!”

  It was Buddy.

  Verna sank lower in her seat. She visored her hand over her face, hoping, praying, he wouldn’t see her. Buddy didn’t look around the room, but rather joined in with his pals. The game got underway. There was plenty of yelling, cheering, beer swigging, laughter, and cursing to light up The Savage Beast. Buddy’s mom came out from under her shell when she realized he didn’t have a clue she was there. She watched, marveling at the level of competition the Kings created. They were all about winning, as usual.

  Pride swept through her as they easily beat the other team. She finished her burger just as the Kings were declared winners. Buddy’s attention wandered over, as if drawn by heredity, to his mom’s table.

  He joined her. “Where’s Hank? I didn’t see him.”

  Before she could answer, Jerry bounded over. “Hi, Buddy. I’m Jerry Summerfield. Is she your mother?” Jerry turned his attention to Verna. “When I saw your name on the site, I was hoping you were related to Buddy. And bingo! I hit a homerun. You’re his mom?”

  She nodded, her throat as parched as dried cod.

  “Who the hell are you?” Buddy asked.

  Verna closed her eyes, hoping this was a bad dream.

  “I’m your mom’s new boyfriend.”

  “What the fuck?” Buddy’s voice rose. “Who the hell do you think you are? My mom’s with Hank Montgomery. Not you.”

  “Hank Montgomery? Any relation to Griff?”

  “Look, dickwad, I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better leave my mother alone, or I’ll punch your lights out.”

  “Buddy, Buddy. Stop. He’s right. I am with Jerry. Just for tonight.”

  “Only tonight? I thought we’d get something going.”

  Verna glared at him. “Yeah, right. Don’t bullshit me, Jerry. This is why you wanted to come here? It’s all about me being a Carruthers and your wanting to rub elbows with the Kings.”

  His face reddened. “Well, that might have crossed my mind. Maybe once or twice.”

  Buddy grabbed him by the lapels. “I’m gonna smash your face in.”

  “Buddy, don’t! It’s not all his fault. Let him go.”

  “You’ve raised a violent child, Verna,” Jerry said, straightening his shirt and brushing off his jacket.

  “Oh, shut up,” she countered. “Buddy, go home.”

  “Verna, I can see this was a mistake. I’m sorry if I wasn’t forthcoming. You’re a lovely woman. I’d like to try again. Just us. If yo
u’re willing.”

  Verna watched Buddy’s face turn pink.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jerry. I don’t think we’re meant to be.”

  “You’re the one who should go home, Mom.”

  “That’s pretty insolent,” Jerry said, straightening up to his full height of five foot nine.

  “For a nickel, I’d flatten his face.” Buddy made a fist.

  “Boys, boys. Calm down. I’m going home, Buddy’s going home, and maybe you should go home too, Jerry.”

  Her date plucked the check up off the table. “My treat, Verna,” he said, heading for the bar, wallet in hand.

  “Mom, what are you doing? Hank is the right guy for you. I mean, if you can’t be with dad, then Hank’s the best.”

  “I’ll have to decide that for myself, son. Now, go. Let me wind this up and leave.”

  She thanked Jerry, slipped on her cardigan, and slid behind the wheel of her car. The humiliation of the evening was too much for her. At home, sipping a glass of red wine, Verna sat at the computer. She found her profile on the dating site and deleted it and her account. Then, she undressed and slipped into bed.

  Congratulations, fool. Jerry used you. Buddy’s furious. Hank will find out, and you’ll have nothing. Slick move.

  * * * *

  When she woke up, the shining sun surprised Verna. She’d expected the world to have exploded, stopped spinning, or disappeared into space. She gave a rueful grin to find a day like any other. Except for the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of half the team, including her son, been caught ‘cheating’ or what they would consider cheating, and been used by a man who’d had absolutely no interest in her at all.

  She managed to snarf down some breakfast, get dressed, and head out the door for a long walk. She did her best thinking while strolling the dusty roads of Monroe. As she wandered, aimlessly, she found herself in front of her church.

  Pastor Grayson was rocking on the front porch when she approached.

  “Verna Carruthers,” he called and waved.

 

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