The Keeping Score Box Set

by Tawdra Kandle

  “I hope it’s peaceful, for my parents and for Quinn.” I’d swallowed over a huge lump in my throat. “That’s the only thing I’m worried about. And God, I wish I had more time with her. I thought I was okay with dying, but every time I see her face, I wish for just a few more days. More months.”

  “I understand. I wish I could give you that time. But as much as it frustrates the hell out of me, one thing I’ve learned is that everything happens the way it’s supposed to. Trust that. Try not to let what might happen at the end ruin the time you do have.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  I sighed now, remembering. These weeks since we’d moved down here had been incredible, and I was grateful that my dad had suggested it. For the first time since I’d proposed to Quinn, the guilt I’d been harboring over doing it had eased a little. Her happiness was all I needed, I realized, and now that I could have her with me and make her smile, that was everything.

  “Breakfast is served.” She came around the corner of the kitchen doorway, carrying the tray. “All your favorites. Cinnamon toast, one egg over easy and crispy bacon.”

  “Wow. It’s like the best day ever.” I reached for a piece of toast. “Under other circumstances, I’d ask you if I’m dying or something, but we both know the answer to that.”

  “Nice, Nate.” She exhaled as though in annoyance, but I could tell it was more bluff than anything else. “Just enjoy your food, and then maybe—”

  She was interrupted by a loud knock at the front door, and she jumped up, smiling big. “That might be your surprise. Be right back.”

  Of course I wasn’t going anywhere, since I was a captive underneath the breakfast tray. Frowning, I watched her skip toward the front door, turning the corner so that she was hidden from me. I couldn’t imagine what she’d done; there was nothing in the world that I needed. Nothing other than her.

  “Hey, what the hell’s your problem, dude? What’re you doing lying around here like an invalid?”

  I recognized that voice, and immediately I knew what Quinn had done to surprise me, even before she followed Tuck’s wheelchair around the corner and into the living room.

  “Tucker.” I grinned. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Man, I heard you were living the good life down here, house on the beach, gorgeous woman waiting on you hand and foot, and I had to come down and see it for myself.” He wheeled over close to the sofa and held out one massive hand. “Good to see you, Nate.”

  I gripped his fingers with my weaker ones. “You, too. I can’t believe you came all the way down here. How did you work it out?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Sweet-talked Zelda into taking the day off and driving me down. She’s waiting in the car—she and Quinn are going to go out for a little bit to give us some guy time. That cool?”

  I glanced up at my wife, who stood just behind my friend, her hands laced together as she watched me. She was anxious about this, I saw—worried that I was going to be okay with Tucker and concerned that I’d be all right with her leaving for a little while. I gave her a broad grin and nodded.

  “Of course, it’s cool. Go ahead and have a great time, Quinn.”

  Her face relaxed as she leaned around the wheelchair to drop a light kiss on my lips. “I’ll have my phone. And Zelda and I are going to bring back Mack and Manco’s for lunch.”

  “Okay. Maybe some fudge, too?” I wasn’t hungry for much these days, but my sweet tooth was still kicking.

  “You got it.” Quinn hooked her purse up over her shoulder. “You boys behave now.”

  As soon as we heard the screen door slam shut, Tuck turned back to me, smirking. “So. Married life, huh? How’s it treating you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not as good as it would be treating you, but in my very particular situation, I’m not complaining about anything. And since we’ve been living down here, life’s been pretty damn sweet. I mean, for a guy who’s about to die, anyway.”

  Tuck nodded. He and I had never pulled punches with each other; rooming together for four years had meant that we knew each other’s deepest fears and darkest secrets, even if we never actually sat and poured out our hearts like girls did. This kind of shit sort of seeped out over time. I was aware of his difficult struggle to come to terms with partial paralysis after the injury that had snapped his spine. And he knew that I’d wanted to live the fullest life possible before death crept in and ended it all. We didn’t have to talk about it. We lived it, daily.

  “Quinn seems happy. When I called her the other day about setting this up, she said everything was going well down here.”

  “It is, I think, but I’m glad she can spend today with Zelda. Sometimes I’m not the greatest company, seeing as I’m sleeping so much. And my mom’s been working on being more patient, but she’s not exactly Quinn’s best friend. I know she missed both Zelda and Gia.” I paused a minute, tugging my blanket up a little higher. “So, speaking of Zelda . . . what’s happening there?”

  “God, hell if I know.” Tucker let his head loll down over the back of his chair. “I don’t know, man. Just when I think we’re on the same page and that things are going okay for us, something implodes and we’re barely talking again. Right now, everything’s good. But I guess we’re both still figuring out shit in our lives. I just wish she’d turn to me when she’s mad or upset. Instead, she pulls away and hides. Stops taking my phone calls.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I love her. Pretty sure she’s the one for me. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with any other woman. But we need to figure out the tough stuff. Sometimes I’m not sure where I stand with her.”

  “Yeah.” I was silent, thinking. “Never had any worries about that with Quinn. We’ve known each other so long, the three of us actually, that I can usually be sure what she’s thinking or feeling before she even guesses it herself.” I let my mind wander back, remembering. “I knew she was in love with Leo before she admitted it to anyone, I think. And I was all too aware that he was in love with her when he was still in deep denial, sleeping with every other girl so he could pretend Quinn wasn’t the one he really wanted.” My mouth twisted. “Those were fun times, seeing as I’d known I loved Quinn since before we even started junior high.”

  Tuck shook his head. “I can’t even imagine. I think about the three of you, and what you’ve gone through . . . hard to believe you’re still friends. Have you seen Leo since the wedding?”

  “Nope.” I shrugged. “Quinn said something a few weeks ago, about how maybe he’d come over to see us when his team is playing in Philadelphia, but I’ll be surprised if that happens. I can’t blame him, though. If this situation were reversed, there’s no way I’d want to hang out with Leo and Quinn after they were married.”

  “You didn’t seem to have a problem being with them when they were together, back in college,” Tucker pointed out.

  “If you think that’s true, you weren’t paying attention. Either that, or I’m a better actor than I thought. It fucking killed me every time he touched her, or when she’d sit in his lap . . . the only saving grace was that since we went to school in different states, it didn’t happen often.”

  “Still. You handled it better than I would’ve, under the same circumstances.”

  I picked up a strip of bacon and tried a bite. “Quinn was happy in those days, and that’s really all I wanted. I tried to focus on that instead of . . . why and how she got that way, you know?” Nudging the plate closer to him, I offered him some of my breakfast. “Want some of this? Quinn made too much. I can’t eat all of it.”

  “I won’t say no to some bacon.” Tuck nabbed the remaining piece. “So what do you think is going to happen after . . . after you’re not here? Between Quinn and Leo?”

  Trust Tucker not only to bring up the elephant in the room but to ride it across the floor. “I’m not sure. Most days, I try not to think about it. Not like I can do anything, right? Unless there’s something in the great beyond that gives me the right to say wh
o ends up where, and that seems pretty damn doubtful.”

  “I think you’re overlooking something.” Tuck finished the bacon and reached for some toast. “Right now, when you can still have influence, you could talk to Quinn and find out what she’s thinking.”

  “I could, but I’m not sure I want to.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes, hoping the ache behind them was just emotion and not a looming killer headache. “Tuck, I want Quinn to have a life full of happiness. I’m not going to be around to make sure that happens. If Leo can give her that chance, I want her to take it. I’d rather have the two of them be together than miserable apart, you know? Even after all we’ve been through, I love them both.” I fought against the sudden tightness in my chest that I knew had nothing to do with my illness and everything to do with my overwhelming love for Quinn. “The only thing that worries me is that they’ve never been able to stick. Back in high school, when they broke up . . . that was partly my fault, sure, but I wasn’t altogether wrong when I said Leo was making Quinn unhappy. And then in college, Quinn couldn’t handle football coming first—or at least, that’s what she said. I think it was more than that, though. It wasn’t so much the game or the media as it was Quinn trusting that Leo really loved her.”

  “It’s not as though anything has changed since then,” Tuck pointed out. “They’ve been avoiding each other or pretending everything’s fine.”

  “You’re not wrong. And if they do get together again after I’m gone, and it doesn’t work . . . I’m afraid that’ll be it for them. They need to—how did you say it? Figure out their shit before they give it another try, or they might end up destroying any chance for the future.”

  “I’d say you’re right on the money.” He stuffed the last square of toast into his mouth. “But what can you do to make that happen?”

  An idea was slowly forming in my mind. “If you were going to take advice from anyone, wouldn’t it be from a dying man?”

  Tucker’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

  “I think so.” I nodded. “I owe them both this much. We’ve . . .” My voice cracked. “As long as I can remember, Leo and Quinn have been my friends. Even when things were strained between us, I knew I could count on them. They didn’t have to stick by me. You might not have noticed this, but I can be difficult sometimes. You know, the whole no-filter deal. Telling it like it is.”

  He feigned surprised ignorance. “No way, really? Never saw that in you. Not once.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right. But no matter what, they’ve been beside me, or behind me—whatever. I want to do this for them. I want them to have their happily-ever-after, and if I can do anything to help make it happen, I will.”

  “Impressive, man. I guess getting near the end must make you downright saintly.”

  I smirked. “Must be. Or maybe I’m just the most noble guy you’ve ever met.”

  Tucker stretched his arms. “Nah, dude, I lived with you for four years. I know the real Nate Wellman, remember? Leaving dirty boxers all over the floor does not a noble man make.”

  “That was just something I did so you wouldn’t be embarrassed by all your bad habits.” I leaned back, thinking how glad I was that five years ago, someone in the campus housing department at Birch College had matched me with this guy. He was the friend I hadn’t counted on making, but I was grateful that I’d gotten the chance to know him.

  “So what’s your big plan for dropping advice on Quinn and Leo?” Lacing his fingers together behind his head, he regarded me with interested expectation.

  “I think it’s about time Leo made a trip up here for one last visit to his dying friend.”

  Til Kingdom Come by Coldplay

  “Taylor! Hustle your ass, boy. This ain’t your college practice, where they carried you onto the field and fed you fucking cream puffs. This is real life, boy. Move it!”

  Gritting my teeth, I picked up the pace, ignoring the sweat pouring down my face and into my eyes. I’d been in this place before. It was the same schtick, different venue. The first day of high school, our coach had warned us that we weren’t in junior high anymore, playing midget football. The first day of practice at Carolina, our offensive line coach had jeered about whipping us ‘high school Friday night lights starlets’ into shape for the real game. And now, struggling to get through the first official month of practice and training camp at the University of Virginia with the Richmond Rebels, it was the same tired song.

  Clearly none of these coaches had an adequate respect for their counterparts at the level below them. I wondered, in my heat-fucked brain, if they all had a meeting every month where they came up with new and wonderful ways to torture us mentally and physically.

  When they finally let us leave the field, I dragged my ass toward the locker room, wishing like hell I’d been drafted by a team in the north, where surely pre-season practice must be at least a little cooler. A little less humid. I thought about some of my Carolina teammates who’d gone with teams in New England and in the upper-Midwest and were currently doing this same thing about five hundred miles north of me. I made the decision not to text them until the snow started to fly up there. Right now, they definitely had the advantage.

  “Not bad out there today, Taylor.” Gideon Maynard, the quarterback, paused as he passed by on the way to his own locker. “If you ever want to get together with Len Olson and me for some extra work on pass completions, let me know. It only makes us all stronger when I trust that I can depend on my receivers.”

  “Thanks. I’ll definitely do that.” I was a little in awe. Gideon was a young QB, but he was damn good—and he came from a football legacy. I’d worked with a bunch of different quarterbacks over the years, and I knew it was in my best interest to cultivate a healthy relationship with him, for the good of the team. I’d heard scuttlebutt that Maynard could be a bit standoffish and hard to know, so I really appreciated him reaching out to me. I made a mental note to take him up on his offer.

  “You doing okay, Taylor?” Corey Iverson clapped me on the shoulders so that my pads dug into my skin. “Killer out there today. I figured you’d be used to it, being a Carolina boy. The guys from Wisconsin and New England are the ones we worry about the most.”

  I lifted the pads over my head. “I’m not from Carolina originally, though. I just spent the last four years there. I grew up in South Jersey, which isn’t that different from Virginia.”

  “Huh.” Iverson was a true son of the state; he’d been born and raised in Roanoke, gone to school at Virginia State and had been playing left tackle for the Rebels for three years now. Our teammates liked to tease him about bleeding Virginia blue. “I’ve never been to that part of Jersey, only up north, when we play New York. It didn’t seem much like Virginia to me.”

  “The southern part of the state is different. Lots of farms and small towns.” An unexpected wave of homesickness rolled over me. I’d been down here since May, and aside from my trip home with Sarah for the Fourth, I hadn’t been back to Eatonboro. My mom and dad had visited me twice; my mother had had a blast decorating the townhouse I’d bought outside the city. Even my brother Danny had come down for a weekend, to ‘see what kind of trouble his little brother was getting into.’

  Still, I was surprised about how much I missed home. God knew I’d spent more time away from Jersey than in it over the past four years. But maybe it was the idea that everything was changing. I knew that back at home, Nate was steadily losing ground, getting closer to the end every day, or so my mother had confided. She didn’t say much about Quinn, but I could imagine how rough her life must’ve been. There wasn’t anything I could do to help her, nothing I could do to change how things were, so it was probably better for me to be out of the way.

  At least, that was what I told myself on a daily basis.

  “Well, maybe I’ll have to check it out one of these days.” Corey sat down on the bench in front of his locker. “You could give me a tour.”

  I forced a smile. “Sure. Maybe when w
e play in Philadelphia, you could come over and have dinner with my family and me. Eatonboro’s only about twenty minutes across the river.”

  “Hey, cool. Could I bring my wife?” Iverson untied his cleat and eased it off his foot. His unwavering devotion to Ellie, the girl he’d been with since they were in junior high, was a running joke on the team, although there was more respect than derision there. Every guy on the Rebels loved Ellie, with her ready smile and her willingness to open up their home to any player who needed a hot meal or just some company.

  “Of course. My mom would love that. I’m the youngest of three boys, and any time I bring a female into the house, I’m the favorite kid.”

  Corey stood up and began stripping off his practice gear. “I get that, man. Five boys in my family. I’m pretty sure my mom loves Ellie best. She calls her the daughter she kept trying to have and finally got through marriage.” He grabbed a towel from the hook in his locker. “No girlfriend for you? You know, my wife is a master matchmaker. She’s got lots of single friends. Nice girls, too. Not just jock junkies.”

  I shook my head. “No girlfriend, but not really looking, either. It’s, uh, complicated.” Explaining to a teammate that the woman I loved had married our mutual best friend a few months back and that I was living in some kind of weird limbo right now was more than I could handle at the moment.

  He frowned, and then his face cleared. “Oh. Ah, okay. Well, Ellie knows a lot of eligible guys, too. And you know Lorganson? Second string safety? I think he’s single now, too.”

  “Uh, that’s really nice of you.” I reached for my own towel. “But it’s not the dudes I’m into, actually. I like girls. I like them a lot. Just right now, there’s one who’s really fucked with my head, so I’m steering clear for the time being.”