Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
ELLERY
AFTER COLLEGE GRADUATION
Iwas unpacking a box in Cooper’s new apartment our senior year.
He had decided to rent a place by Bryce and me.
We’d had no romantic relationship because we were both so focused on our goals, and after his dad’s speech at dinner that night, it’d been clear to me that romance wasn’t in the cards for us. But we’d become the closest of friends.
His phone rang, and he answered, putting it on speaker as he took piles of clothes out of the boxes to put in his dressers. “Hey, Mom, before you ask, we got here ourselves. Ellery drove the truck.”
“I did not,” I said loudly enough for her to hear.
“Oh, Coop,” she said, a sob racking through her. “I have something to tell you.”
Cooper grabbed the phone and sat on the edge of the bed. “Mom?”
I sat next to him, my stomach pitching from the pain in his mom’s voice.
“Hey, Coop, it’s Uncle Henry. Your mom needs a moment.”
“Why? What’s going on? Where’s Dad?” He looked at me in a panic, and I felt it in my gut. This was going to be one of those moments we would always remember.
“I’m sorry, kid, he had a heart attack this morning.”
Cooper’s eyes flared open then squeezed shut. “Is he okay? At the hospital?”
I’d heard it in his uncle’s voice, but Cooper was probably in denial.
“No, he passed away. I’m sorry.”
Cooper stared at the floor while tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t wipe them away fast enough.
His uncle cleared his throat. “I’m going to call the airlines and get you a ticket home.”
“Two tickets,” Cooper said and looked at me.
God, it was the start of our senior year, and I was going to miss my first classes of the semester if I went with him. He had the excuse, it was his father, but who was I except for emotional support? Regardless, I had to be with him, so I nodded.
“For Ellery?” his uncle asked, having met me when he came up last year to visit.
“Yes,” Cooper said.
“Okay, I’ll let you know the arrangements as soon as I have them.
” He paused for a while, and we heard a door shut.
“Listen, kid, your mom… she’s a mess. She wanted to tell you herself, but she’s still absorbing it all.
I’m sure once she sees you, the two of you can grieve, but if you need anything, call me. ”
“Thanks, Uncle Henry,” Cooper said, but I’m not sure if he even heard his uncle. He seemed to be somewhere else in his head.
“I’ll be in touch.”
They hung up, and I slid closer to Cooper, taking his hand and squeezing to let him know I was there.
He had no tears in his eyes as he stared at me for a long moment. “He’ll never see me get drafted. Never see me make the pros.”
I squeezed his hand. “He will. He just won’t be sitting next to you.”
“Let’s get packed. I have to call Coach.”
For the rest of the day, he unpacked his apartment and packed his suitcase. We returned the rental truck, and he called his coach. Uncle Henry called two hours later with our flight arrangements. We had to be in Missouri in two days for his father’s funeral.
Two days later, the plane landed at the Missouri airport. Cooper was more of a zombie than anything, and I didn’t have the right words to say. What kind of doctor was I going to be if I had no bedside manner?
We got our luggage, Uncle Henry picked us up in his truck, and we headed to Cooper’s childhood home.
Once we were at the front door, his uncle turned to us. “We set up the two bedrooms. Your mother should be back soon. She’s with Aunt Helen, getting her hair done.”
Cooper laughed, but his uncle gave him a look that made him stop.
“Ellery, you can sleep in the guest room.” Henry took my bag up the stairs to the room next to Cooper’s childhood room.
“No, she’s staying with me.” Cooper grabbed my suitcase and put it in his room.
“Coop…” I said. Sure, we’d slept in the same bed before, but usually because there was no other option.
“I need you with me.”
The pain in his voice got to me, and I gave his uncle a wan smile, unsure what to do. I’d been with Cooper for the past two nights at school, but once he fell asleep, I’d slipped out and gone back to my apartment.
“Your mom probably won’t even notice, plus you’re adults.” He went downstairs.
I went into Cooper’s room. “Are you crazy? We don’t want to upset anyone.”
“I don’t give a shit. I don’t want to be alone.” His tone was final, and I wasn’t going to upset him even more than he already was.
I sat on his burgundy comforter and examined his room.
There were trophies everywhere. Talk about a high school jock’s room.
Posters of cars—Corvettes mostly—and famous quarterbacks.
He shut the door to his bedroom, and on the wall behind the door was a collage of pictures, mostly of his dad when he played professional football.
Cooper flopped down on the bed. “I’m tired. Join me for a nap?”
Things had shifted since the news of his father’s death.
Cooper was much more touchy-feely than before.
I crawled up to his headboard and rested my back against it.
He rested his head in my lap and wrapped his arm around my waist. My hand strayed to his hair, my fingers combing through it.
I had no idea what to do or how to make this better for him, so I let him lead and I followed, hoping we weren’t going to end up somewhere we shouldn’t.
I’d admit, I’d been to very few funerals before Cooper’s dad, but it was the saddest event I’d ever experienced.
His mom couldn’t stop crying, and his aunt Helen tried to console her to no avail.
Cooper never let my hand go, even when someone hugged him and gave him their condolences, which made it even more awkward. I got a lot of looks from people wondering who I was until Cooper introduced me as his best friend.
His dad’s closest friends, who happened to be from the teams he’d played for, all flew in and told stories of their times on the road.
The preacher said some thoughtful things, and when it was Cooper’s turn, I thought I’d be going up there with him, but he squeezed my hand and walked to the podium by himself.
The room appeared to become even more somber as Cooper cleared his throat.
He stood in front of the big picture of his dad when he was probably about Cooper’s age, playing in the league.
It was like looking at a real-life replica—except for those dark eyes that held so much grief.
I wondered how long it took a person to pull out of the sadness of losing a loved one. Did they ever?
“My dad and I didn’t always see eye to eye.
” Cooper locked eyes with me and held my gaze for a second.
“He always pushed me to be better. There was no going to eat after a game, only practicing to improve what I did wrong. I spent more time in the gym than any other teammate, and sometimes I had to do it again with my dad when I got home. People probably thought he was living vicariously through me, but he wanted me to have what he did. His time in the league were the best years of his life. He told me that constantly.” Cooper’s gaze found his mom at that moment, and she stopped crying.
I suddenly wasn’t so sure this was a normal eulogy.
“He loved us, we know he did, but the game of football… well, he fell in love with that first. He trained me because he loves the game. That’s all it comes down to.
I’m not sure he ever fully retired, but I have him to thank for the player I am today.
He saw me win Player of the Year last year, and as my best friend Ellery told me, he’ll see me be drafted this year, just from a different view.
I love my dad for everything he was and everything he wasn’t to me.
He just couldn’t turn off the switch, and I think there were times he felt guilty for that.
But it’s okay, Dad, we forgive you. Half of what we loved about you was your love for the sport.
Rest in peace. You taught me well, and I can take over on our dream now. ”
He walked down the stairs of the church, and his mom stood and wrapped her arms around her son.
It was the first hug I’d seen them exchange since we’d arrived.
But it was Cooper’s back shaking as he cried in his mom’s arms that spurred my own tears.
Having a complicated relationship with my own father, I understood how you could love them so much, faults and all.
After the funeral, when everyone went back to their house, Cooper pulled me away to a garage out back. He pressed a button, and the garage door opened. Inside were four cars, but he didn’t focus on the other three. He went right over to a cherry-red Corvette.
His hand ran along the hood. “My dad and I restored this one together.”
“It’s really nice.” I found a chair and sat down. Between all the emotions and feeling weird sleeping in the same bed as Cooper, I was exhausted.
“My mom told me to take it back with me, but I think I’ll wait until I get drafted. I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
“That’s nice of her.”
He huffed. “She doesn’t want anything. She just wants him, and it’s the one thing she can’t have.”
“I can imagine.”
I watched as he opened the passenger door and signaled for me to get in.
I climbed in, and he shut the door before going to the other side.
Once he slid in next to me, he turned on the car and rolled down the windows.
The music was low, and I waited for him to put it in drive, but his hand never went to the shifter.
“My mom used to show up at his hotels when the team traveled. She went to every home game and stayed after, leaving me with a babysitter. When he was too far away and she couldn’t go, she’d call him constantly.”
I didn’t know if he wanted me to say something, so I kept quiet, and he continued.
“He was her entire life. More important than even me.”
“Oh, Cooper,” I said, not agreeing.
“No, he was, and I made peace with that a long time ago. It was good because I would’ve cracked if they both were looking at me under a microscope.
She was so paranoid that he was cheating on her.
” He looked at me. “I think it’s why I don’t want to be one of those players who sleeps with a bunch of people. ”
“You think your dad…”
He nodded. “I do. He cheated on his first wife with my mom—that’s why my mom was so paranoid. But I’ll never know. His friends would never tell me, and I don’t blame them. My dad was the good-time guy, you know? Life of the party.”
I squeezed his hand.
“I never want my wife to feel that way, but I’ve seen the worst in the league. I’ve seen what being married to a player can strip from someone. It stripped my mother of being who she was meant to be, and I never want that to happen to…”
He didn’t finish, and I was desperate to know if he wanted to end that sentence with the word you. Because I wanted to rebut. I wanted to tell him that I would have my career, and I trusted him. But it all came back to our hang-ups that kept us from crossing over that friendship line.
Cooper put his hand on the shifter as the song “Wind of Change” by the Scorpions came on.
He drove the car out of the garage through his parents’ rural neighborhood, and we didn’t speak a word.
We just listened to music and drove with the wind running through our hair.
It was the most freeing moment of my life because I stopped thinking about everything.
Nothing mattered more than that exact moment in time.