by Gregg Stutts
At exactly 9:00, Max parked his truck and walked inside. There were about a dozen people seated at various tables, drinking coffee and engaged in conversations or staring at a screen of some kind. Max looked at the menu written on a blackboard hanging behind the counter. He had no idea what most of the drinks even were and it took a minute to actually find coffee on the menu.
The woman in front of him ordered a drink he couldn’t even understand. He’d heard “mocha” and “decaf” and “soy.” It sounded like something Michelle would have ordered. The server rang up the order and handed the woman her change. She asked Max what she could get for him. He was about to tell her he just wanted a black coffee, but changed his mind. He asked the server to make him whatever the woman in front of him had just ordered. With one change though. He wanted regular coffee in it, not decaf.
He paid for whatever it was he ordered and found a table in the corner. He watched the door for Dante’s mother while listening for the server to call out his name. He tried to remember what the servers in a place like this were called. Michelle had tried to tell him several times, but he usually got it wrong. He was pretty sure they were “barristers”, but he wasn’t positive.
A couple minutes later, the barrister, or whatever, called his name. He thanked her and sat back down. Instead of a cup of black coffee like he usually had, Max was staring at a bowl of coffee with foam on top in the shape of a smiley face. He looked around to see how many other people were drinking from bowls. Most were.
He lifted it with two hands and took a sip. He was surprised at how good it tasted. It reminded him of Rose’s cinnamon rolls more than it did a cup of coffee. He took another sip and decided to find out exactly what he was drinking so he could get it again. Maybe he could even learn how to make it at home for Michelle. He took out a note pad from his shirt pocket and wrote down: 4. Make special drinks she likes.
He now had four things on his list that he felt confident would make Michelle feel loved. He had the rest of the week to come up with six more before breakfast with Willy and Rose on Saturday. He took another sip of his drink and looked at the clock. It was 9:05. He’d give Ms. Jones until 9:15 before calling her.
It had been a long time since Max had just sat down in a coffee shop like this. He looked around at the various people seated around the room. There were a couple groups of teenagers with books spread out on the table. They were probably Bentonville high school students studying for a test or working on a project. Mostly though they were looking at their phones.
Couples sat at three tables. They were far enough away he couldn’t hear their conversations, but he could imagine based on their body language. One couple was leaning across the table holding hands. They didn’t take their eyes off each other. At the next table, the woman was sipping a drink looking at the guy who was doing something on his phone. She seemed to be waiting patiently for him to finish whatever was more important than her. Max couldn’t tell if the third couple was angry at each other or had just given up.
It didn’t take a lot of insight to see the three couples mirrored the various stages of his relationship with Michelle. He only hoped they’d be able to recapture what he saw in the first couple, the one that reminded him of Willy and Rose.
Just then the door opened and he looked over expecting to see Ms. Jones walk in, but it wasn’t her.
It was Jack Murphy.
CHAPTER 38
Jack wasted no time making his way to Max’s table. “How are you, Max?” Jack said as he sat down uninvited.
“What are you doing here, Jack?” Max said, trying to sound strong, not surprised.
“I could ask you the same question,” Jack said.
The two men studied each other. Max was feeling a little disoriented and getting angrier by the second.
“Where’s Ms. Jones?” Max said.
It would have been easy for Jack to act like he had no idea what Max was even talking about, but he didn’t. Apparently, they were beyond that point. “Let’s not worry about her,” Jack said. “Not right now anyway.”
Max realized he was clenching his fists, which Jack noticed. As much as he wanted to take Jack’s head off, he had enough self-control to take it down a notch. Causing a scene wasn’t going to help things.
“Max, despite what you may think, I like you,” Jack said. “And I know you’ve come through some hard stuff with losing your daughter and all. I want to help you.”
“Get to the point, Jack.”
“Alright, have it your way, Max. I’m going to ask you nicely to back off.”
“From what, Jack? Back off from what?”
Jack sighed and rubbed his face with both hands the way a parent does when a child is pushing the limits. “Damnit, Max,” Jack said loud enough for the nearby tables to hear. Then in a softer voice, he said, “From things you don’t understand. From things much bigger than just you or me or Dante.”
Max looked down at his bowl of coffee and wished it was just a black cup of coffee. “And if I don’t?”
Jack’s half smile disappeared and was replaced by narrow eyes and a clenched jaw. He was starting to look like Max felt.
The television above their table was showing the tropical storms that were continuing to make their way westward. One was headed directly at Florida. The other one right behind it was turning to the north. Jack nodded toward the screen and said, “Ever been in a hurricane, Max?”
“No,” Max said.
“Me either,” Jack said. “If I knew something that big and powerful, something so unpredictable was coming toward me—there’s no way I’d stick around.”
Max waited for Jack to continue.
“I’d heed the warning,” he said with his eyes locked on Max. “Why risk getting killed, right?” Jack got up, pushed his chair under the table and stood over Max. “By a hurricane, I mean.”
“Where is she?” Max said.
Jack looked up at the television, then back to Max. “Keep an eye on the storm, Max.”
Max watched Jack walk to the door and leave. He picked up his phone and tried calling, Ms. Jones. She didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message. He thought about calling the police, but what would he even say? She missed their date? That Jack Murphy threatened him?
He had learned one thing though. Somehow Jack was connected to Ms. Jones. So either she had called him after agreeing to meet with him or somehow Jack had found out about the meeting. It didn’t make sense for her to call Jack though. Why would she agree to meet him here and then inform Jack? He was still trying to make sense of it all when his phone started buzzing. He picked it up and got his second surprise of the night.
Michelle was calling.
CHAPTER 39
“Hi, Shelle,” Max said as he got up and walked outside as Jack was pulling out of the parking lot.
“Hi, Max,” she said.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he said as he walked to his truck. The wind had picked up since he’d gone into the coffee shop. Leaves were blowing off the nearby trees.
“Where are you, Max?” she said. “It’s hard to hear you.”
He had nothing to hide, but it was a long story that only seemed to be getting longer, so he said, “Just got done with a meeting. Now I’m walking back to my truck.” It was the truth. Just not all of it. Of course, Max didn’t know all the truth. He actually knew very little of it.
“Max, I got your text,” Michelle said. “The one about what makes me feel loved.”
“What did you think?” he said as he climbed into his truck and started the engine.
“Well, that’s why I’m calling,” she said. “Max, where’s this coming from?”
“Coming from?” he said.
“Yes, Max, why now?” She was sounding more irritated than pleased.
“Well, I know I haven’t done a good job the past few years. At being a husband, I mean,” he said. “I want to do better.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know
.”
Max didn’t want to irritate her further, but he was confused. “Okay, well then, do you want to just take some time to think about it?” he said.
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“What is it?” Max said.
“Max, I know what makes me feel loved,” she said. “It’s too late though.”
“Too late?” Max said looking at the clock. It was 9:38, which meant it was 10:38 eastern time. “We can talk in the morning, if you want.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Max didn’t know what else to say and was afraid to hear what Michelle might say. Finally, she said it, “For us, Max, for us. It’s too late for us.”
Max felt like he’d been punched in the stomach again, a feeling he was becoming used to. Even if he’d known what to say, the lump in his throat would have prevented it.
“I’m sorry, Max,” she said. “I have to go.”
And then a question popped into his head and before he realized it, it was coming out of his mouth, “Is there someone else, Shelle?”
Silence. Then, “I have to go,” she said.
CHAPTER 40
He’d been so sure he was doing better. He had plans. And he was working those plans. He was meeting with Willy and Rose who were going to help him restore his marriage. They were coming off a win over Springdale. And less than an hour ago, he’d thought he was about to get to the bottom of some of his unanswered questions. And now he felt like he’d been sent back to square one.
He came to a fork in the road and kept right to head back to Lakeside. He was also at a fork on this new road his life was on. A big part of him felt justified in being angry with God. Just when he’d been trying harder, to make better choices, to be the man and husband he should be…God wasn’t coming through. Max felt the darkness again. It was feeding on his anger and disappointment.
He’d let his guard down and had begun to believe again that God was trustworthy. It was like the old trust test where you cross your arms in front and fall backwards, trusting someone will catch you before you hit the floor. Well, he was trying to do things God’s way and he could feel himself falling. The hard floor was approaching fast. And he had little confidence God would catch him.
Maybe he didn’t even deserve to have God catch him. He’d wanted nothing to do with God for over three years. God had every right to ignore his cry for help now. So why even try? Why even expect God to show up?
Max tried to quiet his mind. He didn’t want to go back down the dark path of anger and resentment. He didn’t want bitterness to rule his heart any more. It had already cost him too much.
At 10:15, he pulled his truck into his driveway. He missed seeing Michelle’s car. He wanted her back. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. He sat in the driveway for several minutes and wondered if he’d already lost her.
CHAPTER 41
Max’s alarm went off at 5:30 Tuesday morning. He picked up his phone, turned the alarm off and noticed the date. It was already September 23rd. It had been almost three weeks since he’d last seen Michelle. He wondered when or if he’d see her again. If he did see her again, he hoped it wouldn’t be in a courtroom.
He normally didn’t have trouble getting out of bed, but today was different. He pulled the covers over his head. No part of him wanted to get of bed. For much of his life, he had hopped out of bed ready to attack the day. Now it felt like the days were attacking him and he wasn’t sure how much fight he had left.
Outside, he could hear a steady rain beating against the window. The weather had started to cool off. The high was only supposed to be in the upper 40’s. No one liked practicing in the rain. Especially a cold rain. He wished he had a job that allowed him to call-in sick.
The previous night had been a blow. It was like the first play of the Fayetteville game. Everything looked good until the whistle blew and a few seconds later the ball was bouncing into the hands of an opposing player.
If he were only dealing with one problem, he wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed. But there was so much on the line. His job. His marriage. His life.
After the phone call with Michelle, he hadn’t even given much thought to Dante’s mother. He didn’t even want to think about what might have happened to her. He didn’t know what Jack was capable of.
If Jack was involved in Dante’s death and had prevented Ms. Jones from meeting with him—what was he supposed to do? Go to the police? Which police? He was sure the Lakeside police knew more about Dante’s death than they were letting on. And he could only imagine how crazy he would sound trying to explain Jack’s threats and one missed meeting at a coffee shop.
As Max lay there in bed listening to the rain coming down and the wind whistling through the trees, he thought about something he’d told every one of his teams. It was something he’d come to believe many years before: Champions are made when no one is watching.
Max had known a lot of football players who didn’t train in the off-season. They had talent, but not character. They were lazy. They did just enough to get by. They were self-focused, not team-focused. So they took the easy road. When no one was looking, they slacked off.
But there were a few guys who were different. They didn’t care if anyone was watching. They didn’t care how hot or cold or lonely it was. They showed up. They gave a hundred percent. Even when no one was watching. It was what made a guy with average ability a difference-maker.
It was the “give your all when no one is watching” mentality that had allowed Max to succeed in high school and college football. He’d always had average ability, but he’d always had above average commitment and effort.
He’d pushed himself to the point of exhaustion when other guys were hanging out with their girlfriends. He’d shown up at the gym on 4th of July when everyone else was at the lake. He’d run sprints in the rain on Thanksgiving Day, because that’s what you do on Thursdays.
How was today any different? If he’d been willing to do all that for football, how could he do any less when it really mattered? When his marriage was at stake? When actual lives were at stake? And then those three words kept coming to mind…
Don’t give up.
CHAPTER 42
On Friday at exactly 3:30, the buses pulled out of the parking lot. It was a thirty-minute drive down to Rogers. Max had arranged for the pre-game meal to be delivered from Charlie’s Chicken in Fayetteville. It was owned by a close friend of his. The food was great and so was the service. Mostly though, Max liked helping out a friend.
It hadn’t been an easy week. In fact, it had been a difficult week. He felt like the team was ready, but he wasn’t sure he was. He’d had no further contact with Michelle. Not that he hadn’t tried. His calls and texts had gone unanswered. He’d tried to not think about his wife with someone else, but that was a battle he’d been losing more than winning.
He didn’t know what to do about the situation with Dante’s mother. He’d tried calling her several times, but she hadn’t answered. He knew Jack was involved, but he couldn’t risk accusing him of anything. Despite Max’s feelings, Jack was a pillar of the community. Max was not in a position to accuse Jack of things he couldn’t prove.
It wasn’t easy, but by 7:00 p.m., Max was able to put aside the distractions and focus on the matter at hand—beating Rogers. They were coming into the game with the same record as Lakeside, 1-2. It was too early in the season to say that everything was riding on one game, but it sure felt like everything was riding on one game. At least for Lakeside. They couldn’t afford another loss. He had no doubt Jack Murphy would be the first one in Bill Jackson’s office if Lakeside fell to 1-3.
As the Rogers kicker teed up the ball to kick-off, Max knew a loss could easily cost him his job. And he knew the chances of Michelle coming back home to Arkansas to work things out with an unemployed football coach were slim.
The referee blew the whistle and signaled for the game to start. Max looked down the sideline at his team. He felt confident he’d pre
pared them well. He turned the other way and saw Dave Turner and wondered how much of his job, his life and his marriage depended on a defensive coordinator he didn’t trust any more.
CHAPTER 43
Chris dropped Michelle off at her parents’ house after dinner. She told them she was tired and going to bed. It was awkward. What were the rules of etiquette when dating your boyfriend of fifteen years ago while your husband was a thousand miles away asking for a second chance?
