“Damn it!” I shout at the steering wheel.
My watch tells me that practice has begun. I’ll be late and my boys will worry. I slap the wheel again and again, barking at the traffic that clogs the road and my thoughts.
I am weaving in and out of lanes. If Abby were in the car with me, she’d grab at the door handle or the seat in front of her, petrified by my aggression. Abby. What have we done? I need to hear her voice. I need something stabilizing after what Lauren’s words have done to me.
I should be able to speak her name out loud and have the woman who lives in my dashboard connect us, but I have not mastered the outgoing call commands on the phone. The traffic has slowed to a crawl, so I reach across the seats and snatch the phone from the glove compartment. When I press the number 1 on the screen, Abby’s picture flashes across the glass. The call goes directly to voice mail. For an instant I forget she’s not waiting for me at home with her cell phone.
Another pause in traffic allows me to dial the number of Cold Creek. After a short wait, they put me through to her room, and I toss the phone on the seat next to me as we talk over the speaker.
“Ryan? What’s wrong?”
I am speechless.
“Ryan? Are you there?”
I pause, then: “We need to talk.”
Her questions cease and quiet fills the car.
“Hello,” I say.
“I’m here.”
“I was with Lauren.”
She pauses before she says anything. The silence is filled with uncertainty. Then she asks, “Are you okay?”
“What do you think? None of this makes any sense.”
She sounds like she’s getting teary and emotional. “What I did was selfish and wrong,” she tells me.
“You’re damn right.”
I’m about to pull into the high school campus. The lights up ahead drag me away from the conversation. I see my boys running laps, a few of them talking to Wayne. There’s Devon. He’s banged up, but he’s made every effort to show up and do what he can. I had told him to take it slow, but he’s already running drills with my defensive line. The tight grip on my chest is beginning to loosen.
Abby asks if I can forgive her, if the life we’ve created is enough. “Haven’t we proved what we mean to each other?”
I am shaking my head no, though she can’t see that. I love someone else too. I never stopped.
“My God, Ryan. What are you thinking?”
I say, “You’re my wife. We made vows. I’m committed to you. We’re just going to have to work through this and everything else.”
“I love you,” she says.
“Yeah. I’m at the field now. I’ll call you later.”
The boys greet me with enthusiasm. Wayne shouts across the tired grass, “It’d better be worth it. First time you’ve ever been late to one of my practices.”
It wasn’t worth it, not at all.
We get through stretches and some offensive plays before E.J. lands beside me and asks if I’m all right. It’s good to have him back on my field, but I don’t tell him that. “Keep your mind on the ball!” I bark at him, before he turns away from me and makes a carry into the end zone. The boy is damn good. I congratulate him by pointing out that his right foot touched the line, out of bounds, at the ten: “That’ll cost you the touchdown. Take a lap.”
The energy has shifted on the field. I am being too hard and too short, and Wayne catches up to me with a snide remark: “Girl trouble?”
Wayne knows there’s nothing that riles me up more than my girls.
The boys are feeling my push. Despite the frigid weather, they are flushed and out of breath. My coaching is wobbly and frenetic. A true leader never lets his players see his weaknesses. I tell them to take a ten-minute break, and they flee for the locker room.
Wayne holds a football in his thick fingers.
He chucks it at me. It bounces off my arm before I have a chance to catch it.
“What’s got you all twisted?” he asks. “Which one of them girls?”
I think about how to answer.
“Son,” he says, “whatever it is, we’ve got the biggest game of the season coming up.”
“With all due respect, Wayne, I’m not up for a speech today.”
“We can’t afford to get sloppy. Not now. We’ve gotta be focused. Keep our eyes on the prize.”
“I know all this.”
“It’s about timing, Ryan. Choices. Don’t be wasting your time on things you can’t control.”
Before I realize it, I am in his face raising my voice. “I’m a married man, and I can’t stop thinking about another woman.”
His eyes widen. “Can you repeat that?”
“You heard me,” I say, scrambling for the ball that he’s dropped on the floor. I take a few steps back and fire it at him. Uncovering this truth makes me feel alive. “Lauren’s in town. Damn woman told me she loves me.”
Wayne laughs a loud, belly-shaking hoot.
“You keep on laughing there, old man,” I say, while he drops my next two passes.
“You tell them boys all the time to go after what they love. You preach to them to be true to themselves.”
There is no reason to spell it out for him. He understands my hesitation and says, “She hasn’t been a wife for a long, long time. You’re as stubborn as my wide receivers. I tell them to turn right, they go left. They don’t see the whole field when they’re lookin’ left.”
“She got me in the blind side,” I say.
“You’ve held on to that girl for too long.” And I have no idea which one of them he’s referring to.
“Abby’s coming home soon. We got a championship in sight. Besides, Lauren’s leaving. Going off somewhere. Nothing for her here.”
“That’s the most pathetic line of crap I’ve heard. Boy, you’re stubborn. And dumb.”
“Abby and I don’t have what you and June have. We never will. But I’m not about to leave her now. Not when she’s hurting the way she is.”
He tosses another bullet in my direction. This time I catch it in two hands. “What about what you want?”
“I’m just fine, Wayne. I’ve got everything I need.”
The boys come in pairs back onto the field. I try to stay focused the remaining hour, but my thoughts keep drifting away. Our defense is solid. We’ll have to go over a few drills with the offensive line tomorrow. The boys are tired and taking their cues from me, and I’m of no help to any of us.
The whistle blows, and Wayne follows the boys into the locker room. “Are you coming?” he asks.
I tell him I’ll catch up with him in a few minutes. Instead, I take a seat in the middle of the field. I sit back against the turf and stare into the night sky. Vince Lombardi once said, “The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will.” I had persevered on the field. Despite losses and setbacks, I had succeeded as an athlete and a coach. How had I failed to have this determination in my life off the field? When I got knocked down, I didn’t get back up. It’s no wonder Abby and I have spent the better part of our married years with me half alive, half a step behind.
I see Lauren in the air above me. She’s telling me she loves me, and I’m ignoring her, hiding all that it is in my heart. It took every ounce of strength to turn away from her. Football is about the team. It’s about loyalty. Isn’t marriage supposed to be the same?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
JULIANA
What the heck is my daddy doing?
I am steering my car through the student parking lot when I see a lone figure on the field. He looks like one of those snow angels with his arms and legs stretched across the green. Only there’s no snow, and Daddy looks like he’s dreaming.
Devon and E.J. are walking out of the locker room when I take my eyes off Daddy and smile up at E.J. “I’m going to keep stalking you until you answer my calls, E.J. Tell him I’ve got nothing to be afraid of
, Devon.”
The brothers are smiling. Devon elbows his brother. “You should be afraid of this one. Very afraid.”
E.J. is softening, and I can tell how happy he is to see me. His angry face is gone, but it’s fighting with his “I’m sorry, I was wrong” face.
“What’s up with Coach?” I ask, and our three sets of eyes rest on the figure on the fifty-yard line.
“Something’s got him acting all crazy,” says E.J. “He was a bear at practice.”
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. I can drive you two home.”
“Nah, Jules, we’re gonna catch the bus. Or one of the guys will take us.”
“Jules,” I say to him. “You called me Jules.”
E.J. blushes. The boy still loves me, and I’m giddy inside.
“Please just wait for me.”
He dips his head down and tells me another time. This playing-hard-to-get crap is tiring.
I slip into the gated fence that leads to the field. The deserted space and its measured green are far more imposing in their stillness, but that all changes when I see my daddy sprawled across the center.
Today was “dress-down day” at school. Instead of our crusty khaki uniform bottoms, we were allowed to wear jeans, and I was sporting my favorite skinnies. We had to wear the uniform top, though—red with the school’s logo. Over it, I have on E.J.’s sweatshirt. E.J. didn’t see it under my coat, but I know it’s there.
I kneel before my dad and flop in the grass beside him. It takes a minute for him to sense I’m nearby. He doesn’t open his eyes. He just reaches for me with one outstretched arm and pulls me close.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” I ask.
“Everything,” he says.
“You’re gettin’ a little spooky on me, Daddy.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I got a lot on my mind.”
I nuzzle into him. “Mama’s coming home soon.”
“Yep.”
He’s brushing my hair with his fingertips. I can tell why he comes out here. It’s quiet, and nobody else would bother to disturb him.
“E.J. said you were a bear at practice.”
“Are you two back together? I didn’t get the bulletin.”
“Nah,” I say, “But soon . . . I love that boy, Daddy.”
He is quiet, then: “You girls today are too dramatic.”
“Ellis can’t hurt us anymore.”
He opens his eyes and turns to me. “You see, Jules, that’s just it. When you love someone, you get hurt.”
“Not always.”
“You’re young. Why tie yourself down to one person?”
“Would you prefer I be like the other girls my age who think it’s cool to hook up with three different guys in an hour?”
“They do that?” He looks surprised. “Do you do that?”
“Gosh, Daddy. You’re so old school.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it hard. “You’re out here thinking about E.J. and love, and you know what he’s thinking about? Girls, sports, and food. Like all boys his age.”
“E.J.’s different, Daddy.”
“I know, I know. E.J.’s different. It’s only a matter of time before you two get caught up in whatever it is you kids today call it. He’s not going to say no to you forever. And kids your age aren’t ready for that type of responsibility.”
I say it again: “I love him.”
“Enough to be a mother?”
“Um, Daddy, we just went from not even dating to having a baby.”
“That’s how it begins. A blink of the eye and your whole life has changed. You don’t know how being a parent changes everything.”
“He won’t even hardly talk to me,” I say with a shrug. “The sex thing isn’t an issue.”
“I’m liking that boy more every day.”
“It’s not funny.” I jab at him. “He thinks he can protect me from the world by letting me go.” He pulls me closer, and I feel the grass nipping through my skinnies and creeping into my boots.
“He’ll come around, honey. Losing a parent is tough; give him some time.”
“I’m just about dying inside, Daddy . . .”
He’s not listening. He’s staring up at the sky with a serious gaze pinned onto his face.
“If you had one wish to make on that one star up there, what would it be?” he asks.
I say, “Three more wishes.”
“My greedy girl.”
“For Mama to be better, for E.J. to take me back, and for you to smile again.”
“Reasonable wishes.”
“And yours?”
Daddy doesn’t immediately answer. He’s thinking about it, and I wonder what makes him pause. “Of course your mama getting healthy. Then for E.J. to continue to turn you down. And for you to know your worth, every day of your life. To know how loved you are.”
“That’s four.”
“I could go on,” he says. I don’t know why his wishes make him look and sound so sad. He keeps staring up at the sky as if it has all the answers.
Something about being there on the field with Daddy lessens the pang of E.J.’s absence.
“You’ve made your mama and me real proud.”
“I know,” I say with a smile. Then I ask, “You and Mama, how’d you know she was the one?”
He takes a moment before telling me it’s a long story.
“I’m not a baby anymore. I was at your wedding, for gosh sakes.”
“Your mama’s a fiery woman,” he says, forming a cloud of cold air above us. I try to grab it in my palm.
“Is that a nice way of saying she’s messed up?”
“You’ve had to deal with the brunt of her disease. It shouldn’t have been like that.”
“What about you? You’ve taken care of Mama better than any of my friends’ daddies could. She could appreciate it more.”
“She does. In her own way. Your mama hasn’t always had it so easy.”
“Lots of people don’t have it easy,” picking at the grass. Feeling the cold blades in my fingers.
“She can help herself only up to a certain point. Her brain works differently than ours. But she’s doing a lot better. If she stays on the right medication, she’ll be on the right track.”
“Is she going to come out someone different?” I ask.
“She’ll be your mama. A better version of the one you’ve had. Give her a break. And be a lady.”
I shrug.
“She loves you so much, Jules. You’ve always been everything to her.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him she disappointed me when I needed her most. Instead, I lean in closer and tell him how thankful I am for him.
“Look at you making your daddy blush,” he says, and though I’m not facing him, I can feel his smile smeared across his face.
“Cross that wish off my list,” I say. “I like it out here, Daddy. I can see why you do too.”
“You girls in my life make my head spin. This is where I take a rest.” He notices the time and sits himself up. “It’s getting late. How ’bout we stop for ice cream on the way home?”
Daddy’s arm finds my shoulders, and we walk off the field together.
“I love you, Jules,” he whispers, as he kisses the top of my head.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ABBY
Today is the day I will begin again.
There is freshly fallen snow outside my window, and I am watching for Ryan’s car to turn up the drive. My suitcase is packed, and I’ve said good-bye to the team of therapists, and finally to Rose and Sybil. They have written me beautiful cards, and Sybil has decorated my face for my unveiling into my new normal. This time, I tell her that I enjoy my ordinary face, and she need not overly paint me. Being capable of sharing my feelings is exhilarating. I am sure it’s the reason my cheeks shine with barely any blush and my eyes light up without glitter.
I am going to miss the serenity of this place, the ease with which I could grab hold of the wheel and steer through th
e minefield of indecision. I have survived. I am energized by the notion that what weighed me down is the force now lifting me up.
The doctors told me I would feel different upon my departure. Not a lobotomy-sized change—a subtle tweak in the zaps spiking my brain. Cold Creek gave me a set of tools for navigating my never-ending problems and fears. The fear will still arise, but when it does, my responses will be different. The texture of daily life might not feel as smooth as it had under the watchful eye of professionals, but I know I am equipped to handle the bumps. “You’re still the same,” they said. “You’ll still experience highs and lows, but your highs will be less high, the lows, less low.” Balanced, they mean.
Ryan arrives, and he seems smaller to me, though I immediately chalk it up to my new lens on life. We don’t hug. He takes my bag and kisses me on the cheek before I step into the backseat. He smells different, and I wonder whether my other senses have changed in my metamorphosis. He maneuvers the truck slowly, as if we have far more to be cautious about than icy conditions.
My last days at Cold Creek were extraordinarily painful. “And with great pain,” says Jeannie, “comes great joy.” Lauren’s voice lingered in my ear. Ryan’s disappointment was everywhere I looked. The individual threads that had frayed over time were finding their way back together. Ryan called less and visited just once. We sat in Jeannie’s office, where our grievances spilled to her floor.
“I’m trying to process this,” he said, “but it’s a big one. It’s pretty much altered everything I once thought to be true.” I sat there silently, staring at my newly grown fingernails, refraining from taking a bite. “My wife lies to me. What am I supposed to do?”
“Ryan, you’re allowed to feel hurt and betrayed.”
“I’m not hurt. I’m outraged.”
I never once felt as though he regretted what happened between us—I mean, I know he wasn’t proud of it, but listening to him and seeing his fury was like a giant question mark, and Jeannie saw it too.
“Do you ever think about your role in the betrayal, Ryan?” she asked. “We talk a lot in here about issues with anger, different levels and manifestations, and often the emotions go hand in hand with guilt. I imagine you must have some feeling about what happened. Despite the outcome and having a wonderful daughter, there have to be real feelings there. It would help you to get to them.”
Where We Fall: A Novel Page 23
