Hail Mary: A Quick Snap Novella

by Loni Ree

  Graham answers the door, and his expression screams discomfort. I open my mouth to beg, but he holds up his hand and stops me. “Look. He doesn’t have anything to say to you.” He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “That was a shitty stunt you pulled.”

  I hear a crash behind Graham and use his moment of shock to push my way past him. Barrett is standing in the hallway with a bottle of whiskey in hand, glaring at me. “Get the fuck out. Go to the mall with your little friends or something and leave me alone.” The hate shining from his eyes tells me he isn’t going to listen to any explanation, and my heart completely shatters. Turning, I stumble from the apartment and let the tears I’ve been trying to contain run freely down my face. Our relationship has ended before it really ever began.

  I learn a hard lesson in that second. Rushing away, my heart in shreds, I promise myself that I’ll never make the same mistakes again. I will give and demand complete honesty in all my relationships in the future. Relationships that begin with lies don’t stand a chance. Heartbreak like this is too horrible to go through more than once in a lifetime.

  Chapter 2

  Barrett

  Present

  As the offensive coordinator, I need to perform at my best. My team is depending on me, but my mind isn’t on the fucking field in Seattle. It’s on the adorable freckled, heart-shaped face. It’s on eyes so blue, they sparkle and glow. It’s on the perfect, curvy body that was made just for me to hold tight. The same woman who has haunted my dreams on and off for the last ten years.

  Since it’s early July, we aren’t traveling, and most of the staff is either on vacation or busy elsewhere. I have busy work to do, but my mind is preoccupied. More than a week after my run-in with Molly in Safeway, I’m still reeling from the impact of seeing her. Telling myself to stop being a teenage girl and either get the fuck over it or start looking for Molly, I hire a private investigator. Since it’s Friday, he takes another three days to send me the information.

  I walk into my kitchen after a long day and groan. “Barney,” I growl. My fucking spoiled rotten Afghan Hound has torn up another dog bed and distributed its stuffing throughout the kitchen. He trots into the room, turns his ugly ass head to the side, and stares at me. “If you don’t stop your destruction, I’m going to send you to doggie daycare.” One of these days, I’ll follow through on my daily threat.

  Although I’ve been on my own for years, the quiet emptiness of my lonely home cuts through me. I should’ve gotten the fucking talking bird instead of the hairy spoiled dog. I’m staring into the refrigerator, trying to find something that appeals, but I’m growing tired of Greek yogurt and microwave dinners. As Barney sits at my feet, I glance down and grumble, “You need to straighten up or I’ll exchange you for a bird.” We both know I’m talking shit. The big dog rolls his eyes before trotting away to find more trouble. When my watch alerts me that I’ve received an email from the investigator, I shut the refrigerator door and pour myself a drink. Heading into my office, I grab my laptop off my desk before dropping down onto my leather sofa to read the email.

  Sometime later, I lay my head back and stare at the ceiling. She’s had a full, productive life without me. Molly owns a coffee shop across town. I have no idea why she was shopping at a grocery store three miles from my home, but I thank God or fate or whatever force was responsible for me finding her again after all these years.

  This fucking report gives me details on her address, career, and her lack of a criminal record, but the one thing missing is whether or not there’s another man in the picture. It doesn't matter. After losing out on the last ten years with Molly, I refuse to let something trivial like some other asshole stop me from pursuing my girl.

  Glancing down at my watch yet again, I groan. I’ve been seating in this parking lot across from All the Steam for over an hour, trying to get up the nerve to drag my ass in and approach my girl. Patience isn’t my friend, but I force myself to sit and wait for the right time to approach her. As I watch several groups of people walk in and out of All the Steam, I tell myself to hold on until the afternoon rush ends, so I’ll have a better chance of catching Molly in a moment of weakness. After an hour, the shop has emptied some, and I figure this is my shot. Stepping out of my truck, I look up at the overcast sky and take a deep breath. Fuck. Stop being a little girl. Squaring my shoulders, I stride into the glass door and glance around. The place actually suits her. In the short time we were together, I learned how much she loved reading and coffee. This shop incorporates those two into one. It’s easy to visualize her touch in the dark wood furnishings and warm, homey decor. The two-story building is lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a winding staircase leading up to a sitting area on the second floor. The smell of warm, baked goods hits my nose, and my stomach growls. Shit. I haven’t eaten since dinner last night. All the delicious pastries in the glass case are calling to me, but the threat of packing on extra pounds keeps me from partaking. My heart squeezes in my chest when Molly hustles out through the swinging door in the back of the shop and rushes over to a table. “Sorry it took so long, George. It’s been a crazy day.” After she sets a ceramic cup and saucer and a pastry in front of the older man, she winks at him. “I saved you an apple fritter.”

  “Well, then you’re forgiven, sweet girl.” He pats her hand, and she smiles down at him before turning slightly and glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

  As her head whips around, shock passes over her expressive face for a moment. “What? How?” she stutters.

  “I wasn’t done talking to you the other day.” I step right next to her and breathe in her delicate scent. Even after ten years, she still smells the same—sweet womanly and all mine. “I’d like to take you to dinner so we can finish our conversation.” I’m not letting my girl get away. My heart belongs to her.

  “Well, you know we can’t always get what we want.” Anger flashes in her gorgeous, blue eyes as she moves back a step. “People in hell want ice water, and they aren’t getting that either.” Still the smartass, I see.

  While concentrating on Molly, I failed to notice the young, oversized dickhead standing behind the counter. He storms over and pushes his way between us, and a red rage fills my vision. “Chase, it’s okay,” my girl gasps, and I barely stop myself from knocking his teeth down his throat.

  “You already said no.” He glares at me before pointing his head at the door. “It’s time for you to listen to the lady and get the hell out.” As he growls, I examine him closely and realize he’s a baby. From years on the football field and working with athletes, I’ve gotten good at estimating ages and I’d guess this asshole is twenty at the oldest.

  “This isn’t any of your business.” I lean around his shoulder and raise an eyebrow at Molly. Surely, she isn’t going for men who are this much younger.

  My girl glares at me for a second, then turns to the other man and shrugs. “Chase, he’s just an old stalker. Don’t worry. I’m sure the restraining order is still good.”

  After swearing under my breath, I growl, “Molly, be serious.”

  “I seriously know you’re wasting your time.” As she stands there next to the protective asshole with her hands planted firmly on her hips, I fight the urge to throw her over my shoulder and take her to my place. It hits me that I’m spinning my wheels. If I want to get Molly to listen to me, I’ll have to find another way. It looks like I’m striking out yet again.

  “I’m not giving up,” I promise her before turning to leave.

  “You’re wasting your time and energy,” she calls behind me, but I ignore her. This fight is too important. Now that she’s stumbled back into my life, my heart recognizes what’s been missing all these years, and I’m not willing to let her go again.

  Ten years ago, I fucked things up beyond hope on purpose. By the time I got home after the blow-up in the quad, I was regretting walking away from Molly. I told myself I didn’t care if she was in High School as long as she was legal. My feelings for he
r were strong enough that I was caving. I’d decided to ignore the consequences and continue my relationship with Molly when I got the call that my dream to play in the NFL was coming true. The Chicago Bears wanted to sign me to a multi-year contract. The realistic part of me knew I had to choose between a young girlfriend and my future career. Refusing to listen to her when she came over that last day was my cowardly way of handling the situation. After making the wrong choice, I’ve spent the last ten years regretting my actions. Now, I hope there’s some way to change this situation.

  I take a long walk around the block to clear my head. Beating myself up isn’t going to help me win over my girl. I charged in like a bull in a china shop and set my campaign back, but now it’s time to move forward. Knowing I need to regroup and plan an organized attack, I head home and pick up the phone.

  “You must be in serious trouble to call me.” My grandmother answers on the first ring.

  I laugh and drop onto my sofa. “What? I can’t just call to say hello?” Glancing around, I look for the remote and finally see it lying on the coffee table. After grabbing it, I turn on the television and mute the sound. As Barney steps on my foot, I groan and make room for my pain in the ass dog next to me on the sofa.

  “I might be old, but I’m far from senile.” Nana sighs. “How much bail do you need?”

  Snorting, I flip through the channels and try to come up with the best way to explain this situation to my eighty-year-old grandmother. “Ha-Ha. I actually called because I need help with a delicate matter.” Barney’s snores echo through the room as I fill Nana in on the biggest fuck-up of my life.

  The next morning, I wake up from the first full night of sleep I’ve had in a long time. Nana is arranging a flight for some time this week, and I’m putting all my ducks in order. Before she knows what’s coming, my girl is going to find herself caught and reeled in.

  A week later, I carry Nana’s bags in and give her a tour of my home. “I like this neighborhood, but you need a woman’s touch in your home.” As Nana walks through the house, she glances around and raises an eyebrow. “How long have you lived here?” I feel like I’m ten-years-old again under her scrutiny. Shooing Barney off the guest bed, I set her suitcase down and turn to her.

  “Six months,” I admit, and she shakes her head in disappointment. “I’ve been busy,” I defend myself. “It isn’t easy to transition from quarterback to Offensive Coordinator. Work requires all my concentration.” After my career-ending injury, I had no idea where life would take me. Then the Seattle Seahawks offered me a lifeline.

  “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to hang a few pictures on the wall.”

  As Nana raises an eyebrow, daring me to contradict her, I shrug. “True. Maybe you could help me decorate a little while you’re here.” Barney looks back and forth between us like he’s watching a tennis match, and I realize he’s never had another person in the house with him.

  She rubs her hands together and smiles. “Sounds like fun. First, we need to talk about how we’re going to get your girl.”

  For the rest of the week, issues with the team take all my time and concentration. Nana makes herself at home while I work from early morning until late at night. Friday evening, I drag my exhausted ass in the door and find my kitchen filled with the most delicious scent. “It’s about time you got home.” Nana is standing in front of my industrial stove stirring my favorite spaghetti sauce. “I made you dinner. Then I want to tell you all about my new friend.” I almost wonder if she’s talking about my useless dog. He’s lying on the floor at her feet. Since she moved in with us, Barney has become her little shadow, and I suspect Nana is slipping my spoiled pooch food under the table.

  “How long do I have before dinner’s ready?” I ask as I walk toward the hallway. My workout schedule has doubled since Nana came to town. Now, I’m walking Barney twice a day, and he runs away when he sees me reaching for the leash.

  “You have thirty minutes.” She smiles over her shoulder.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I rush up to my bedroom and hop in the shower. Nana hates stinky men at the dinner table, and after my busy day on the field, I’m sure my smell is offensive.

  Nana is setting the table when I return twenty minutes later. “What can I do to help?” I ask, and she looks over and shrugs.

  “Sit down and relax after your hard day. I’ve got this covered.”

  She sets a plate in front of me, and I smile. “It looks wonderful.”

  Nana pats my cheek before sitting across from me. “Thank you.” I nearly choke on my first bite when she glances over at me and casually remarks, “You fucked up, royally.” I’ve never in my life heard swear words coming out of my sweet grandmother’s mouth. “Only a dumbass with one brain cell would let a girl like Molly get away.”

  Oh. I guess she met my girl. Ignoring the dumbass insult, I ask, “How did you meet my girl?”

  “I decided to check out All the Steam.” Nana smiles before taking a bite of her spaghetti. “I love her little coffee shop.” She points her fork at me. “I’m going to have a great time helping you win over that girl. They have a book club that meets on Tuesdays, so I need to stay up late tonight to finish the recommended read.” As she explains everything she learned today, I sit back and sigh. I hope bringing my grandmother here to help was the right thing to do. “By the way, I put my condo on the market.” I nearly spit my ice water across the table.

  Setting my glass down, I take a deep breath and look over at Nana. “What?”

  “I love Seattle.” She shrugs. “And you need family close by to help take care of you.” Nana stands and begins to clear off the table. I rub the back of my neck and sigh. As much as I love my grandmother, I never expected this situation to become permanent.

  “Okay. Do you need me to help you check out places in town?” I look at her hopefully.

  “I’m in no rush.” I guess she’s staying with me indefinitely.

  Chapter 3

  Molly

  I turn off the neon sign on the front of All the Steam and wave as Mrs. Duncan walks in holding her huge straw bag. “Good evening,” I call, and she smiles at me. The older woman must be in her early seventies, but she could easily pass for sixty. Her short black hair is always styled in the latest cut. I’m tempted to ask her for make-up tips. I’ve never been able to apply my eyeliner in a perfect cat-eye like she does every day. “We have a new member coming tonight,” I tell her when I bring out the tray of cookies. “She recently moved here from Florida to live with her grandson.” Mrs. Duncan takes a cookie and settles into her seat.

  “Is the grandson single?” she asks before taking a bite of her cookie, and I groan.

  At the mention of a possibly unattached man, both Mrs. Lincoln and Susan look over at me with interest in their eyes, and I sigh. “I have no idea. I don’t quiz everyone about their relatives’ marital status.” I shake my head and continue passing around cookies.

  “It doesn’t hurt to ask, my dear.” Susan smiles, and I groan. These ladies should’ve learned from their last disastrous attempt to set me up with a book club member’s relative.

  “I see the wheels turning in your heads, and the answer is no.” I stop them before they have a chance to make trouble. “We talked about you ladies staying out of my love life,” I remind them. My blind date with Jude the terrible was a nightmare. One I refuse to repeat. “Remember the blind date disaster last year?” I ask, and Susan places her hand on my arm.

  “Oh, come on, Doll. You’re too young to be alone.” She looks at me with pity in her eyes, and I stare up at the ceiling to pray for patience. It’s proving impossible to convince these happily married mothers and grandmothers that I’m perfectly happy with my coffee shop, grumpy cat, and friends.

  “I’m not alone.” I smile at them. “I have all of you guys.” The bell over the door rings as Ms. Gloria walks in, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully, I can steer the conversation to the book club and keep these nosy ladies out of
my business for the rest of the night. “Ms. Gloria, come on over and have a seat,” I invite. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.” I point out our oldest member, Mrs. Duncan. She was a high school English teacher, and her book selections tend to be long and boring. Next is Mrs. Lincoln, her sister-in-law. She’s a retired nurse, and her choices are usually short and steamy. Mrs. Smith joined the book club a couple of months ago after she came in to get a coffee before a doctor’s appointment. As a retired police officer, she likes to read mysteries and thrillers. Janie, Susan, and I are the youngest members of the club. Janie and Susan both work at the department store at the end of the block. Since they’re both in their late thirties and married, their book choices push the boundaries.

  After all the ladies take their seats, we start discussing the book that Janie picked out two weeks ago. Juicy’s Harem seemed a bit racy for our little club, but there was no talking her out of her choice.

  Mrs. Smith looks over at me and points at the book laying on the table. “Janie needs to lose her next two turns to choose after that one.” As a chorus of agreement passes through the group, I groan in the back of my throat. This was my fear when Janie mentioned the book she planned to recommend. Everyone seemed excited to read it, but I had serious doubts. I should’ve listened to my gut and refused her selection.

  “I had no clue what pegging could mean. I looked it up online, and my computer caught a virus.” Mrs. Smith glares at Janie. “The technician found my search history while fixing it, and my husband’s face is still slightly red from his mortification.” Oops.

  Ms. Gloria steps in to take up for Janie. “Ladies, I’m new here, but I think this book was refreshing.” I almost choke on my iced tea. “Reading is supposed to be an escape from everyday life. What better way to escape than to read something that makes you investigate new things?” She smiles sweetly and grabs a cookie off the tray. “My dear, your sweets are simply the best I’ve ever had.” Smiling at her compliment, I look around at all the shocked faces. Ms. Gloria is going to fit in perfectly with this group.