Chapter 18
The therapy, exercises and evaluations had helped Sam keep his mind occupied and not brooding on Chloe back in Paris for the last few days.
Perched on his couch with an ice pack on his knee Friday morning, Sam reviewed the health checkup Dr. Morgan had sent to the Raiders.
Despite his positive progress, there was a hint of hesitation in her notes.
“…range of motion…tenderness…” and some other doctorly words.
Nevertheless, it was official. He was gone from the Titans.
Tossing the report aside, Sam determined any tentative words the good doctor wrote on his progress would all be moot when he visited Vegas.
He’d show them he was well on his way to being one hundred percent.
He had no doubt he’d be on the field in the fall.
Just that he’d be wearing black and silver instead of Titans blue, red, silver, and white.
Sam shifted in his seat and adjusted the ice pack.
He’d never played for the opposition before.
He was always a “be true to your school” guy.
He’d grown up cherishing the “home team” and reviling his rivals.
Soon enough he’d don the jersey of “the rivals.” Even now, Bruno was in the kitchen on his phone, finalizing some things with the Raiders’ front office.
An interesting aside about his knee… Since he’d aired out things with Dad, he’d had less pain and in general, the cares of his life didn’t seem to be as burdensome.
Proving Dr. Morgan was right about that one thing.
He’d talked to Dad at least three times since their True Confessions session and talked to Mom twice.
She’d confirmed Dad’s details of their divorce and apologized to Sam in tears.
Now he wrestled with the sting of regret for being bitter for so long.
For his assumptions. For not seeking the truth.
Even at fifteen, he’d known there had to be more to the story.
Yet what he wanted more than anything was to talk to Chloe, to see her, read the expression on her face as she talked about the lovely surprise that had awaited her in France.
A café. From her dead husband. If any man wanted to pull one last heroic deed before his demise—if he could predict such a thing—it would be to fulfill his wife’s lifelong dream before buying the big one.
How could Sam compete? There was no game plan, no play, no scramble that could outdo what Jean-Marc had done.
Bravo. Sam concluded it wasn’t even honorable to try.
Reaching for his phone, Sam reviewed the images Chloe had texted him over the last two days.
Beautiful scenes of a sun-soaked French countryside, snapshots of her standing in front of the café with her arms wide, head back, happiness all but leaping off the screen.
The place needed a major overhaul, but even football-minded Sam could see the potential.
He’d managed one phone call in the time she’d been away. “This was our dream. Jean-Marc surprised me with it. Can you believe it?” The excitement in Chloe’s voice was so palpable, Sam felt it.
“Amazing… cottage… gardens… weddings… parties… Christmas… so romantic…”
Well, he believed that was the gist of their conversation. Every other word was French, and he’d taken Spanish in high school.
In other news, the town council decided against Donut Heaven, so his sweet little Haven’s was safe. He’d been excited to convey the news to Chloe, but it was pretty anticlimactic after her news.
“Hurray for hometown politics. You must be so excited, Sam.”
You. Not “I’m so excited.” He’d become a singular entity to her. A “me and you” instead of the familiar us.
Flipping through Chloe’s pictures one last time, he looked for a hint of hesitation, some insecurity about resuming a life in France, taking over a huge renovation, and returning to a dream she’d had with a dead man.
Choose me, Chloe. Choose me.
“You know what you have to do, don’t you?” Bruno walked toward Sam with two cold Diet Cokes and handed one to Sam. By his tone, Sam knew his agent and friend wasn’t talking about the Raiders.
“Of course, I know.” Sam sighed and popped the top of his soda. He’d confided everything to Bruno over dinner last night. “I have to let her go. The café is her dream, her ‘ring’ so to speak.”
“Well said. After all, that’s why you’re taking the Raiders’ deal. To win a Super Bowl, which is what you’ve always wanted.”
“Two dreams driving two people apart,” Sam said, not bothering to cloak the sadness resonating from his heart.
“I’m willing to try a long-distance relationship from Hearts Bend to Vegas, but Paris to Vegas?
” The time difference alone would make it impossible to have a relationship.
Besides, if she owned the café, the pretty little town of Deux Jardins would be her home.
Had Chloe mentioned something about her mother moving there?
If that happened, she’d never come back to Tennessee.
“I tried it once,” Bruno said. “Didn’t work. The big thing here is to realize you’ve come to the place where you want to move on in life, do some adulting, fall in love, get married, have a family.”
More than anything. The urge was even stronger after he’d patched things up with Dad and Janice and Mom.
He knew he could be a good, faithful husband and father.
The desire beat in him almost more than his thirst for the ring.
And he wanted all of that with Chloe. He loved her.
Which was exactly why he had to let her go.
“If you love something, let it go…”
He’d been talking to God a bit more since Chloe flew to France. Some of the guys on the Titans had a prayer meeting on Friday morning so he thought he’d go there before heading down to Hearts Bend to spend his Friday at Haven’s. And there was Gabe’s Saturday gathering, too.
“The Raiders want a meeting next week.” Bruno scrolled through his iPad calendar. “When do you want to go?”
“Any time but Monday. I’m at the bakery that day. The guys from the Rock Mill football team come in and we talk shop, toss the ball around in the alley.” Which he’d realized lately how much he loved. Maybe he’d coach one day.
“Careful of your knee.” Bruno clapped him on the shoulder. “Sam, I’m sorry about Chloe. But just wait, see what God might do.”
Bruno rarely mentioned God to Sam though he knew him to be a man of faith based on his own backstory. But at this moment, his agent uttered the words Sam needed most.
“But I still have to let her go.”
“I think so. If she really wants a French café, hanging onto her will only cause resentment.”
Late in the morning, long after Bruno left, Sam sent a text. He’d tried to call her but when she didn’t answer, he battled an intense restlessness. Another benefit of clearing the air with his parents? He couldn’t hold things in anymore.
Hope you’re having fun in France. The pictures are amazing.
Been thinking, and I’m behind you and your dream, your own French countryside café.
Go for it. We’ll find someone to manage Haven’s though I’m sure she, or he, won’t be anything like you.
I’m off to meet with the Raiders next week.
Guess we’re both pursuing our dreams. I wish you all the best, Chloe. Honest.
When Sam showed up at the bakery later that afternoon, the place was packed and Ruby tossed an apron at him the moment he darkened the back alley door.
A drop of disappointment hit him as he entered the kitchen.
No Chloe. She’d not responded to his text and the more time that ticked on, the more he regretted sending it.
A text? Really, Hardy? You didn’t learn your lesson the first time?
“What’s going on?” He did a double take when he passed Laura Kate bent over the oven. She was covered in a fine white powder and shook her head as she pulled out a cookie sheet and set it on the stainless-steel table.
“W4C,” Ruby said. “We’re running around here like a one-armed paper hanger. Can you man the cash register?” She pushed through the double doors to the front.
He followed her to the register. “Sure, but what’s W4C?” He smiled at the young woman in front of him who blushed when she recognized him.
“I’d like a W4C,” she said with a slight batting of her lashes.
“Ruby.” Sam leaned toward her as she passed by with a pot of coffee in hand. “What’s a W4C?”
“Sweet girl,” she said to the young customer. “The W4C line is over there. A fresh batch will be ready in ten minutes. Sam, take her order and give her a number, yeah, right there from that basket. When she gets her cookie, she pays.”
“Okay, but would someone please tell me what the heck W4C is?”
Every warm body in the bakery shouted, “White Chocolate Cookies and Cream Cookie.”
“Laura Kate was playing around this week with a different sort of cookie and well, that one struck gold,” Ruby said. “Word got out it was the new TCFC and orders started flooding in.”
“Word got out, did it?” Sam gave Ruby the knowing eye.
Ruby fielded his look and raised him a chin as she flitted toward the dining room. “Well, someone had to quell the coming insurrection.”
For the next thirty minutes, he took nothing but W4C orders both in person and on the phone.
Which required more concentration than running the RPO—run/pass/option offense.
When Laura Kate, covered in even more frosting and flour, brought a fresh batch of W4C to the display case, the customers surged forward.
Sam stole one for himself before cashing out everyone’s order.
After all, he needed to know what his bakery was selling.
One bite and he was in heaven. A light golden brown, coated with miniature chocolate chips and cookie crumbs, still-warm cookie melted in his mouth. “Laura Kate, this is amazing.”
She ducked her head with an “aw, shucks” kick at the floor. “Who doesn’t like white chocolate, cookies and cream candy, and chocolate sandwich cookies? They had to make an amazing cookie.”
“Back in the kitchen, Laura Kate,” Ruby barked like she owned the place. “More cookies. Sam, we can’t bake them fast enough. Trust me, the TCFC was never this popular.”
“Really? Tell me what makes this one so popular.” Sam leaned close, almost invading her personal space.
“Well, I might have, or someone might have, I’m not sure, said that this recipe was devised by one hometown quarterback and it was his most favorite cookie of all time. Maybe. I can’t be sure. I just heard a rumor.”
Sam laughed and roped Ruby into a Titan hug. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
By the time they flipped the door sign to Closed, they’d sold four hundred cookies. Sam felt like he’d been hit by the front seven of a stellar defensive line.
Ruby was cooling herself in the walk-in with the door open. Laura Kate wore so much flour and sugar she needed to be hosed off outside. And Robin flopped into a chair, waving her apron to cool her red face.
“I declare, what are we going to do next week?” Ruby said. “We can’t keep this up. Sam, when does Chloe get home? We need her.”
“Not sure…anyway, I think we’re going to limit how many W4C orders we manage. Isn’t that what Bob and Donna did with the TCFC?” Sam used his I’m-the-boss voice. “When we run out, we run out.”
“You want an insurrection?” Ruby said.
“No, and we won’t have one if you stop spreading stories in the grocery store.”
Ruby harrumphed. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Here, y’all, I saved four cookies, so we each get one.” Laura Kate passed a plate of cookies around their weary circle. Sam poured everyone a glass of milk and they ate in beautiful, contented silence until Ruby brought up Chloe again.
“So, what was the big surprise in France?”
“A café.” Sam drained the last of his milk, wishing there was one more cookie. He needed comfort food right about now. “Her husband bought it for her as a surprise.”
“But isn’t he dead?” Robin said.
“Yes, and there’s a story behind why she just now found out, something about his parents not knowing and a blonde real estate agent—or whatever they are in France—but either way, Chloe has her dream. A French countryside café.”
“But what about you? She loves you.” Ruby closed the walk-in door and took a chair from the office to sit next to Sam.
“It’s pretty hard to compete with a dead man, Ruby. Besides, I’m moving to Las Vegas to join the Raiders. She doesn’t want to go there. She’s already told me.”
“What? You’re leaving too?” Laura Kate’s sincere question touched him. “We love having you around here.”
“I love it here too. But I have a Super Bowl championship to chase, and I don’t think I’m done playing ball.” He’d loved the game for so long he wasn’t sure he knew who Sam Hardy was without it.
“If you ask me, I’d rather have Chloe than any Super Bowl championship.
” Ruby never shied away from sharing her opinion.
“Sam, you got a room full of trophies, I bet. And do you look at them? Wear the rings? They’d just be collecting dust. Family, people, and relationships, now those are life’s real trophies. ”
“Maybe, but I told her to take the café. I don’t want to stand in her way and—”
“What?” Ruby flicked him on the forehead.
Flicked him. “Are you really so dumb and dull? You do exploits on the field and fumble in real life. Sam, go after her. Tell her you love her. If you have to sacrifice a Super Bowl ring for a wedding ring, then do it. She’ll be with you long after the league will, which, by the way, won’t give you children or grandchildren, or keep you warm at night when you’re old and cold.
Sammy, don’t you know, one fine day, yes one fine day, you’ll realize that loving Chloe LaRue was the best decision you ever made?
” Ruby sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. ”
Suddenly, Sam was on his feet. She was right. One hundred percent right. She’d even echoed his own thoughts on which ring he really wanted on his finger. He wanted Chloe’s ring, which represented the greatest prize of all. Love.
“Ruby, you’re a genius. Remind me to give you a raise.” Sam grabbed Ruby’s face and smacked her on the forehead with a big sloppy kiss.
“Is that the same raise as before or are we talking two raises now?”
“Yes, whatever, I’ve got to go.” Sam dashed for the door and then dashed back to Ruby and kissed her again.
“You are the fount of all wisdom, despite stirrings of insurrection. I love you.” Another dash for the door, where he paused with his arms raised in victory.
Bruno was right. He knew what he had to do.
“I’m going to France, ladies. Wish me luck! ”