18. Alice
18
Alice
F riday is amazing. Payday! Plus, my bonus bed arrives! Plus, my team merch arrives! All within two hours of each other. Will said that Billy wanted us to take Friday to finish up our logo presentations, to perfect them. So—technically, I’m not even going into work today!
I will be working, but I won’t be sitting in a stuffy board room across from dumb ol’ Theo.
With the day off and my merch in tow, I know exactly what to do. I ordered T-shirts for everyone in the room—red, white, and black. I went with twelve-inch by eighteen-inch flags, hand-waving size. Also, they fit in my bag and are budget-friendly. I’ve got hats. I’ve got scarves. I’ve got wristbands.
I may have gone a little overboard. But I worked every night for a week and a half on that logo before calling in Chase, my graphic designer friend. Sure, we’ve never met in person, but we were college friends, and Chase’s specialty is logos. He took my hard work and actually made it into something I think any team would want. The crest, the red-tailed hawk with its wings expanded right in the center. It’s amazing. Half my paycheck went to Chase alone. Which is why a $200 futon and my $10 set of three bowls are still the only things in my Amazon cart.
I find my cute skirt with the box pleats and throw on my very own Reno-Tesoro Red Tails shirt. I stuff my bag with flags, scarves, shirts, and hats, and head down to my Jeep.
A simple Google search told me the local club team, ages fourteen to eighteen, practices at this time. It even gave me directions to the field.
Could this day come together any better?
When I pull up and there’s a group of kids playing on the field, my stomach flips with excitement. I snatch my bag and walk down the narrow cement path to the grassy field. A man who looks around Dad’s age calls out directions to the kids. He’s pointing and shouting and so focused on the game that he doesn’t notice me walking up beside him. Coach Jackson.
Good ol’ Google told me that too. Well, it took me to the U18 site for the Tesoro Thunder, which told me all that I needed to know.
For instance, I know that this practice should be ending in ten minutes.
“Coach Jackson,” I say.
The man beside me leaps, his hand finding his heart.
I ignore his slight heart attack—no need to call attention to his jumpiness. “I’m Alice Taylor. I work for Billy Baxter. He’s starting a professional soccer team right here in Tesoro. Do you think your team could help me out with a short promo video?”
Coach Jackson’s hand falls to his side. He looks me over from my Red Tails tee to my team cap.
Twenty minutes later, ten kids–whose parents let them stay late–are in Red Tails shirts and hats. They’re holding Red Tail flags. They look like actual fans!
I’m ridiculously pleased when one kid tells another he hopes he gets to keep the ‘fire gear.’
I hold out my phone to my small but jubilant crowd. “Okay,” I say, “start with the chant I taught you.”
And they do. To the tune of “Hey Baby,” they chant, “Red Tails, Red Tails, we’re here to fight…” They sing and chant the entire little mantra I wrote while I video. It’s not amazing, but it’s still clever. I’m in branding and marketing—I’m not a jingle writer.
“And cut,” I say.
The kids are excited. And I really don’t want to take back all the gear. I still have several shirts and scarves in my bag.
One of the older boys starts chanting on his own, “RT-RT, here to fight!”
The boy beside him claps his hands in tune, and then together, they repeat the line. It’s simple and straightforward and so much catchier than my little song.
I pull my phone back out of my pocket and video the group as, one by one, they join the first. Clapping and chanting. Laughing and cheering.
My heart patters.
This could work.
This could be great .
I ’m too giddy to fall asleep after my afternoon with the soccer boys and the excitement of setting up my bed. I love my bed. It might be the very best bed the world has ever seen.
Billy should be kissed.
And yet—I miss Will. It’s ten, and I have no one to chat with before I go off to my new, wonderful bed. I have no one to talk about my amazing day with. The boys made it fun. I ended up letting them keep certain pieces of the merch. They just loved it so much. I couldn’t take it back.
I have too much energy for sleep.
So… I text Will.
One little text. If he’s asleep, he won’t hear it.
But he’s not asleep. Not yet. I’m sure of it. It’s only ten!
At least, he was never asleep by ten all the nights that I stayed with him. Then again… maybe I kept him up.
Me: Guess what I got today!!
Will: Hey! It came.
Me: I thought you knew. Didn’t yours come too?
Will: I already have a Billy bed, but I must have been out for meetings when yours arrived.
Me: Come see it!
My heart patters. I’m inviting him over, at ten, and without real clothes on. Not that he hasn’t seen my pjs plenty.
I can’t even lie to myself; I have invited him over, and it’s not to see my bed.
I watch the little ellipsis bubbles telling me he’s typing. I watch and watch, and then?—
Will: On my way.
Not even a minute later, there’s a tap on my door. I throw my pink crewneck sweater over my head, hiding my old ratty nightshirt, and open the door.
Will’s hair is mussed and his shirt tail is flapped up, showing a sliver of his abdomen, making me believe that man didn’t have a shirt on thirty seconds ago. That’s a vision I can conjure oh-so easily.
“You look happy,” he says.
“I’m so happy.” The grin on my face sends an ache to my cheeks, but I don’t even care.
“Wow, had I known a bed would make you this happy?—”
“Don’t say it.” I narrow my gaze on him and point, my finger just brushing his chest. “This is my yearly bonus from Billy. Nothing more.”
“Yearly bonus? How do you know how often Billy gives out bonuses?”
I shrug. “I’m assuming.”
“Ah.” He points toward the hall leading to my bedroom. “Well, let’s see it. I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little surprised you didn’t set it up in the living room.”
“Of course not! That’s where the futon will go.”
“Your cheap, uncomfortable futon? Because you’ve already spent all your paycheck…”
“It’s not cheap. It’s going to be fine.” I have no idea how it will be. Dad always had nice furniture and Mom had hand-me-downs. It may have been used, but it was comfortable. No futons. “And don’t worry about my paycheck.”
He holds up both hands. “This is me not worried. Just curious.”
I flutter my eyes and laugh. “Good.”
“Lead the way, I’m ready to see it.”
My place is smaller than Will’s, but the layout is the exact same. Open living room and kitchen, hall off the kitchen leading to bedrooms and bathroom. Will’s place has three bedrooms and two baths. Mine has one bed and one bath. Which is perfect for me. I don’t need Will’s space. I’m not sure Will needs Will’s space either, but that’s beside the point.
We pass my bathroom, and with my Red Tails shirt and bra on the floor, I am glad I thought to shut the door.
The bedroom is fairly empty looking—though a lot less so than it was yesterday. My clothes are in the small walk-in closet, the door shut. And my bed is in the middle of the room. It’s made with the plush pink comforter Billy sent. Pink—how’d he know? And no less than eight pillows. I have no idea who needs that many pillows, but I love it.
Will laughs. “It’s not even against a wall. You’ve just got it out there, middle floor, star of the show.”
“It is the star of the show.” I reach out and snag his shirt front. “Come on. Lie down. It’s so comfortable.”
Will stumbles after me. I flop down on the giant bed—king-sized—and throw my arms up over my head.
“Will, lie down!”
He sits and bounces once, then twice on the edge. So, I reach up for the back of his shirt, right at the nape, and yank him onto his back.
Will grunts. “Geez, I was getting there.”
“No, you weren’t,” I say, smiling at the ceiling.
“Okay, maybe I wasn’t, but did I really need to lie down?”
“Shut up. Close your eyes.” I peek at him, making sure he’s following my directions. His eyes flutter closed. His chest rises and falls with breath. “What do you think?”
“It’s nice,” he says, his tone lulling.
“Put your arms over your head,” I tell him.
“I’m not doing that, Alice.” He peeks back at me.
“Eyes shut,” I demand. “Come on, arms up, it’s comfortable.”
“I’m comfortable like this,” he insists.
“Fine.” I sigh but shut my eyes once more.
“So, you like it?” he says after a minute.
I peek, and his lids are still shut.
“I love it,” I tell him, opening my eyes wide now to watch him.
Will Henley is a stupidly good-looking man. Dark, wavy hair, thick brows, grooves and muscles over his body that remind me of a sculpted man.
“Thanks, Will.”
“Billy bought it,” he says, his tone even.
“I know.” I press my lips together, still watching him, watching his even breaths rise and fall. “Thank him and kiss him for me the next time you see him.”
Will’s eyes blink open and he peers over at me. “I’m not doing that.”
I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “This bed is worth a kiss. If I could meet Billy?—”
“Well, you won’t.”
“Geez, jumpy pants. I’m kidding.” I exhale. “Sort of.”
Will’s eyes flutter closed once more, and I shut mine too. We lie on the best bed ever, thinking, breathing, and not peeking at the other.
I think this bed is going to make me think of Billy every time I lie down at night. He will be permanently tied to this bed.
“Why a circus?” I say, lifting one eyelid and peeking at Will.
“Huh?” His murmur back is quiet and tired.
“Why would Billy buy a circus, of all things? Why not a car? Why not a concert ticket?”
“He was young. And dumb. And in control of a lot of money. He didn’t care what any of his advisors said. He did what he wanted to. And he paid them enough that most kept quiet and signed off on whatever he said.”
“None of that tells me why he bought a circus.” I look at Will. His brow cinches, even with his eyes closed. It tells me all I need to know. “You know why.”
When Will doesn’t say anything, I wait.
And finally?—
“When Billy was a kid, his parents worked a lot. The business demanded a lot of them.” He yawns, his eyes still peacefully shut, his words slow and long, but he’s telling me. “But Billy’s mom loved animals. The wilder, the better. Whenever a circus came into town, they went as a family. They left work and meetings behind no matter what. They went. Together.” Another yawn. “That’s why.”
“That’s nice,” I say. “That makes sense.”
“None of it makes sense, Alice,” he murmurs. “Do you have any idea how many lives he hurt with that ridiculous purchase? He had no business running a circus.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve our forgiveness.”
He peeks at me. “But maybe he doesn’t.”
“Whenever us grandkids made mistakes, my grandma Lucy would say, in the heart of forgiveness, compassion blooms, and together, we can grow stronger.”
Will watches me. “You are an interesting girl, Alice Taylor.”
“I think Billy needs us more than he realizes. I think he needs our forgiveness and compassion.”
Will swallows. He doesn’t answer. He simply watches me back.
“Close your eyes,” I whisper. I shut my own eyes, but in the dark, I find Will’s hand at his side. I wrap my fingers over his and squeeze. “Can you at least give Billy a hug for me? This bed deserves a hug. At the very least.”
He breathes out a hum.
I think that means yes. I don’t bother him again because he’s enjoying the best bed ever. I get it. So, I leave him be.