27. It’s All Coming Together
27
It’s All Coming Together
We didn't lose the game; we just ran out of time.
-Vince Lombardi
Dylan
“Callahan!” Coach’s voice boomed out across the field. I winced as I hustled over to the sideline where he stood with his clipboard.
“Yes, Coach?”
“I don’t know what changed, but you’re like a new player today,” he informed me. He tapped on the clipboard. “Thirty-four catches today and you haven’t dropped a single one. That is literally a 110% improvement over the rest of the week.”
I believed him. I caught every ball today. Today, the ball stayed in my arms.
Did I imagine the ball was Ellie?
Yes. But there was no way I was telling Natalie that.
“Franklin also tells me that you gave him some advice,” Coach continued. He leveled a look at me that had me swallowing hard. “Good job.”
How long had it been since I’d heard those words from Coach? Weeks? Months? A flush of pride washed over me and I felt taller than I had in days.
“However,” Coach continued, and the warmth disappeared. “You and Marcus need to work things out.”
I nodded, even though that was the last thing I wanted to do. I did not want to talk to Marcus. I wanted things to just go back to the way they were before the accident. I wanted things to be right in the world again. I didn’t want to sit and have tea with Marcus and discuss our feelings, even though I knew that it would probably help.
“So you and Marcus are running laps,” Coach informed me. He pointed with his chin toward the track where Marcus was fixing his shoelaces. “Get going. You both can come back when you have things fixed. If that means I keep the lights on for you, then we’ll take the extra electric bill out of your pay.”
I stared after him for a minute while he walked away from me. With a huge sigh, and absolutely no desire to run or talk, I headed to the track.
“So.” Marcus didn’t look at me.
“So.” I didn’t look at him.
We started a light jog. The afternoon sun was brutal, but at least the breeze made it tolerable. Our feet were rhythmless on the ground, both of us out of sync with the other.
“How’s your wrist?” Marcus asked after a quarter mile.
“Fine.” I held up the uninjured one. “No problem.”
He scoffed and for a minute I thought I might have made him smile, but it was gone and we jogged in silence for a bit.
“It’s fine,” I said. “It hurts, but I think I figured it out. I had a fall last night. Nearly ended up in the ER, but I kept the thing I was holding safe. And my wrist didn’t snap again.”
“The ER?” Marcus stopped running and grabbed my shoulder. “Are you okay, man?”
The concern in his face made my heart stutter. He cared. He still cared. He didn’t hate me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him. “I almost ended up in the ER.” I still didn’t want to tell him about Ellie yet and there were too many fans, too many reporters around that might hear something worse than some friendly banter that was all over the radio talk shows anyway.
“I did notice you could catch today,” Marcus said, releasing me. We started jogging again, but it felt lighter now. Our steps were still out of rhythm with one another, but every third step we seemed to match up.
“You know these injuries get in your head.” I stared at the rust-colored track as we ran, not looking at the world going by. “They make you believe that you’ll always be hurt. That it’s always going to be like this. That it will never get better.”
“Do you blame me?” he asked.
The question forced me to stop and stare at him. It took him a few steps to realize that I wasn’t moving. He turned and wiped sweat from his brow and squinted at me. He looked calm, but he was bouncing his leg. He only did that when he was crazy nervous.
“For what?” I asked. “Throwing me the ball? Doing your job?”
“It was a bad pass...” He looked away from me. “If I hadn’t thrown it...”
Suddenly things clicked into place. He’d thrown the pass that had gotten me injured. Did he blame himself? Was that why he never came to the hospital? Was that why he was always so angry when I couldn’t catch the ball? Because he blamed himself?
“Your job is to throw the ball, my job is to catch it,” I replied. I took a step to him, putting my hand on his shoulder this time. “I never blamed you. Ever.”
“You can’t catch because of me.” His leg bounced.
“I can’t catch because I’m an idiot,” I replied. “I’m working on that. You can’t fix my stupid.”
A hint of a smile flashed across is face for just a moment.
“They’re going to trade you and it’s my fault. I threw that pass. And now...” He looked away from me, squinting into the sun.
I tightened my hand on his shoulder. “No, it’s mine. You threw that pass. You didn’t cause the hit. You didn’t make me drop any balls this season unless you suddenly got telekinetic powers that I don’t know about. And they aren’t going to trade me.”
His eyes came to meet mine and the last six months of us not talking, not hanging out, not being friends, seemed like the most stupid thing in the world.
“You sure? You’re playing like shit. I’d trade you.”
“Thank you for that vote of confidence.” I pushed his shoulder this time and he grinned at me.
“I don’t want you to leave the team,” he said quietly as we settled back into our jog pace. This time, our feet fell at the same time, running together in cadence.
“I don’t want to move,” I confessed. The fear of it tightened in my stomach and then loosened. Talking to Marcus made it feel real and yet better at the same time. I glanced over at him. “Maybe throw me some good balls?”
“I only throw good balls,” he informed me. “I can’t help it if you can’t catch a cold.”
This time, the joke made me laugh. There was no malice in his words, just the teasing of a friend.
We circled the track.
“We good?” Marcus asked.
“We’re good,” I promised. “But we should probably do a few more laps just to make Coach happy. He’s watching us and I would hate for him to think he could solve all our problems in under a mile.”
“I can yell at you,” Marcus offered.
“You’ll have to catch me first.” I picked up my speed, smiling at the string of curses coming from the friend behind me.
The rest of practice felt good. I caught the ball. I kept the ball. I got hit, but I didn’t let go.
Marcus asked where the hell I’d been on vacation for this past month. It felt good to have him talking to me again.
I stopped to have Sara re-wrap my wrist before heading home. Unfortunately, as head trainer, she had several athletes in front of me. I decided not to be the prima dona athlete and let the others go ahead of me. As much as I wanted to get home to Natalie and Ellie, I knew they were okay tonight. I texted Natalie that I’d bring home food tonight for us. She gave me a huge thumbs up emoji. I was quickly learning that her stomach was the best way into her heart. Give that girl food or caffeine and she was a happy camper.
“Hey man, how long for the trainer?” Franklin asked, coming to stand beside me. He had his arms crossed across his chest, and an uncomfortable look on his face.
“No idea, but probably a little bit. Why? What’s up?”
Franklin glanced around, as if taking stock of the other players nearby.
“It’s my nipples,” he whispered, leaning forward. “It’s the jerseys or the heat or something, but.. I’m getting rubbed raw. I was hoping the trainer might have some ideas on how to help it other than wearing band-aids like some sort of cheap stripper.”
It took everything I had not to laugh.
But, this was my chance to be a mentor. The fact that he was willing to ask something this personal meant he trusted me and I didn’t want to let him down.
“I actually have something that will help,” I said, an idea popping into my head. “It’s this nipple cream. It’s usually for new moms, but it works really well on soothing nipples.”
Franklin raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Mom nipples? How’d you find out about it?”
“I had something similar. It was recommended to me,” I lied. “I’ll bring you a tube tomorrow.”
Franklin smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
I smiled back at him, the fabulous feeling of being a good teammate filling my chest. “It’s nothing. You’ve been doing good this week. Keep it up.”
He gave me a nod and left the treatment area, his steps light and confidence up. It felt good.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Alex’s name popped up on the screen.
“What’s up?” I cradled the phone to my shoulder.
“So, there’s a problem,” Alex informed me. I glanced around, making sure that no one could hear my conversation.
“And?”
“The DNA test didn’t work,” Alex said.
“How does a DNA test not work? Is Ellie an alien?” I asked.
“No, but you probably are,” Alex replied. “The lab thinks the sample got too hot or something. It wasn’t a good sample. They need a new sample.”
Anger and annoyance flared hot, but I kept my cool. “So we’ll have to wait how long to find out if she’s my daughter?”
“A week. But the new test will be at your place tonight,” Alex promised. “They said they’ll expedite it.”
“They better.” I would strangle someone if they didn’t.
“You got it, Boss,” Alex promised. He was quiet for a moment, not hanging up the phone.
“What else?” I rubbed at my temples. Maybe I should just head home? My wrist wasn’t that bad today.
“I talked to my cousin. She and her husband both signed the NDA and passed all the background checks. They’re interested in adopting. They’d love to adopt your daughter if that’s what you decide.” Alex’s voice went soft. “They’re good people. She’d have two older brothers. Two loving parents. They have enough money they are comfortable, but not so much that she’d be a spoiled brat. They have a good school. They have a big family. It’s a great life for her.”
My chest tightened to the point that I found it hard to breathe. I stood up and moved to a different spot in the room.
“Thanks, Alex. I’m not ready to decide yet,” I said, my voice coming out flat.
“No problem. You should wait for the DNA test anyway,” Alex quickly agreed. “I just wanted you to know that it’s a valid option.”
“Thanks.”
A hollow ache filled my chest as I hung up the phone. The fluorescent bulbs flickered slightly overhead, the lights turning on in the building as the sun set outside. It was later than I realized and I was suddenly exhausted.
“You’re my last patient,” Sara called to me, motioning me to her. “Let’s look at your wrist and then we can both get home.”
She showed me a couple of exercises and stretches that she wanted me to start doing several times a day to help strengthen and support my wrist.
“Let me walk you to your car,” I offered when we finished. Everyone else had left for the day, so ours were the only cars left in the parking lot other than the custodians. It was a safe neighborhood, but I would want someone to walk Natalie out if she were here late. Heck, I would want someone to walk me out if one of the linebackers was available.
“Sure, that would be great,” she said with a smile as she grabbed her bag. We stepped out of the building and into the late summer air, the sound of insects buzzing all around in the grass.
It was a quiet summer evening until it wasn’t.
“Hey, Callahan!” An angry voice called. “You can’t catch for shit!”
I looked up, thinking it was Coach or Marcus giving me a hard time, but it wasn’t. It was a fan. A young man, probably late twenties wearing a dark hoodie and shorts stomped over to us. Instinctively, I moved to block Sara from him, pushing her back into the doorway of the building.
“I lost the spread because of you,” the man shouted, getting up and into my face. His breath smelled of bad whiskey and worse decisions, but his hit to my shoulder was strong enough to send me back a step. Unfortunately, it appeared the door back inside had locked behind us so there was nowhere to get away from him.
“Man, I’m sorry,” I said, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. “I’m working on it. I got some things--”
“You’re working on it?” He said the words so hard that spit landed on my cheek. “I lost my mortgage because of you! My wife left me because of you! My life is in shambles and it’s absolutely your fault!”
He pushed me again, but this time I was ready and he didn’t get any motion from me. I needed to keep Sara safe in the doorway.
“Listen, I’m sorry about all that,” I told him, keeping my voice low and calm like I was soothing a wild animal. “But this isn’t going to help.”
“Is this the bitch that’s distracting you?” He pointed at Sara who flinched when he noticed her.
Damn . I had hoped he wouldn’t see her.
“She’s just a trainer here doing her job,” I said, moving to block him from her more. “She’s not the problem here.”
“Like hell, she isn’t!” The man lunged past me, taking a swing at Sara’s head. Once again, everything moved in slow motion. I saw the punch fly through the air. I felt my body trying to move, but I couldn’t move that fast. Superman couldn’t have moved fast enough to catch him.
Luckily, Sara must have had older brothers because she grabbed his arm and slammed him into the wall in a move that would have made Bruce Lee proud. She screamed like a teenage girl while doing it, but the move was still bad ass. I grabbed him by his sweatshirt and pinned him into the building.
Was I a little rougher than I needed to be? Was he going to have some serious bruises? Probably.
Did I care? Not even a little bit.
I was pissed. The guy was lucky I wasn’t pummeling him into the ground and on his way to meet Natalie in the ER. I wanted to destroy him. I wanted to let the anger burst from me and put him in the ground, but Sara was screaming at security to get over to us. The guy stopped resisting after I made it very clear that if he so much as breathed in a way I didn’t like, he was going to not only find his head in the brick, but that he also would have a dislocated shoulder.
Security took him from me, taking him to a waiting police car.
“You okay?” I asked Sara, rubbing at my sore wrist.
She fixed her ponytail. “That was not the evening I was expecting. How’s your wrist?”
“Fine.” It didn’t hurt any more than it usually did.
Sara rolled her eyes and held her hands out so that she could look at it.
“The cops will be here in a minute. I’ll re-wrap your wrist,” she said, inspecting her work. The wrap had become loose in the scuffle. She looked up at me. “Thanks for saving me.”
“You did a pretty good job of saving yourself,” I replied. “You could have taken him.”
She laughed. “Tell the other players. I can use all the street cred I can get.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I told her. For a moment, I imagined she was Natalie. Or worse, Ellie. What if she had been carrying Ellie when that guy came over and got aggressive? I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about what could have happened to her, or what I might have done to the guy to protect my daughter.
“This stuff happens,” Sara said, waving a hand dismissively. “Fans are crazy.”
That didn’t make me feel better. The idea of anyone coming after Natalie because of my fame made my stomach turn. It was a real wake-up call that I had famous people problems. Problems that I did not want my child or wife to have to deal with. Problems that Natalie and Ellie didn’t deserve to have.
Natalie was a grown-up. She could make her own decisions, but Ellie? I thought about the family Alex had lined up. Two older brothers. No famous dad. No stalkers. Was that a better option for a small girl?
“You okay?” Sara asked, touching my arm. “You look like you are thinking some dark thoughts.”
“Just rattled,” I said with a false laugh. “Don’t tell the guys.”
She nodded as if she understood but there was no way she could. There was no way she could know I was questioning my abilities as a father to protect my child or if I was the right person to raise her.
And now I had to talk to the cops again. And I’d be late with dinner.
Red and blue flashing lights filled the scene, blinding me with their brightness. Cops spilled out of the cars and I wasn’t sure if it good luck or bad luck that I recognized one of them.
“Oh. Hi, Officer Brown. How nice to see you again.”