Strong Enough

by Teresa Hill

  “She doesn’t need ID Mark, this is Reece.” Plastering his face with a big cheesy grin. “The Reece? Wow nice to meet you!” Mark said while sticking his hand out to me. I am a little sheepish about the being referred to as The Reece and unsure what all that entails. Shaking his hand. “Nice to meet ya as well, this is my friend Zane…”

  “Zane Bauer, man, it’s awesome to meet you!” A very excited Mark cuts me off. “Man you don’t know how much of a fan I am. Bro, I know it’s uncool to ask, but aw shit I don’t care, can I get an autograph?”

  Hearing him ask for Zane’s autograph was odd. What the fuck? I have failed to ask Zane about what he does as Blake had suggested. Guess the timing just hasn’t been right.

  “Sure man, no problem at all, got a pen?” Zane nonchalantly responds as he takes the pen from Mark and signs a napkin.

  Turning to look at me, who is giving him a definite look of What the hell is that about, he is chuckling and tells me to scoot and he will explain later. Explain later? So not cool.

  “Danny this is Zane, Zane, this is my um Uncle Danny.”

  “Zane doesn’t need an introduction do you son?” Danny says slapping Zane on the shoulder a few times.

  “Good to see you Danny, how are you?” Zane laughs out.

  “Wait, you two know each other?”

  Once again I get a look from Zane and now from Danny. “Yeah I met Danny a few years back at an, uh, event.” The look between the two had me curious, but I’m letting it go. “Hmmm ok, well then now that everyone knows everyone, I need a drink and a table!”

  Danny motions to the bartender who walks right over. “Table 12 and 2 vodka waters with limes and keep them coming.”

  “Hey Danny, this will be the first time I have ever had a drink in the bar, feels kind of weird.”

  “Tell me about it kiddo, I’ve seen your naked ass as a kid, this seems wrong,” he said with a chuckle as he walked over to the jukebox. I watch him punch a music change and listen as the familiar sound of the steel guitar and drums start in on an even beat. Turning around with a smile from ear to ear, he is walking towards me. “Come on kiddo, it’s our song, take a spin with me,” he says holding his left hand over his stomach and his right hand swinging his hips from side to side and two stepping.

  “Who could resist an offer like that,” I chuckle as I walk up and take my position in his right hand. Listening to Tracey Lawrence sing takes me to a special place with Danny. Anytime something changed in life, no matter how big or small, Danny would hit this song on the jukebox and dance with me. The words stuck with me over the years, through everything “Time Marches On.”

  It has been years since I two stepped but it didn’t take but a second to get back into it. Moving around the bar as we danced I couldn’t help myself from singing.

  …South moves North, the North moves South, A star is born, as star burns out. The only thing that stays the same is everything changes, everything changes…

  … Time marches on, time marches on.

  As the song finishes we stop dancing. “Still the sweetest sound I have ever heard kiddo.” Kissing my forehead lightly. “I wish you didn’t hide it from everyone else.”

  Just another thing I changed about myself. I have always loved music, but besides Danny, Jodi and my mom, no one knows I sing or that I can play a few different musical instruments. The guitar has always been my favorite and I can thank Danny for teaching me how to play when I was younger.

  “Yeah well, things change and you should be honored you get to hear me at all old man.” Slapping his shoulder lightly.

  “HEY, watch who you’re calling old kiddo.”

  Walking toward Zane I toss my right hand in the air and wave off Danny. I love that guy.

  “So, little country two stepping I see,” he says taking a drink of his vodka water.

  “Why, do you dance?” Questioning his question.

  “Ha, alcohol does wonders.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his response, especially since it’s true. “Up for a little pool game?” I ask walking toward table 12 as he follows.

  Setting the rack down on the felt. “Ok Zane, you have some questions to answer, who the heck are you?” I continue as I begin to rack the balls.

  “Ok Reece, same question, who the heck are you?”

  I realize he is not going to answer questions easily, but then again, I’m not going to answer at all.

  “Tell you what Reece, let’s put a little wager on the game. For each ball either of us hits in, the other person has to answer a question. Any question they want to ask. Are you game?”

  My first instinct is to say HELL NO, but then it dawns on me, he doesn’t know I’m good. This could be very interesting. Never try to hustle a hustler.

  “Deal, any question?” Leaning against the table and chalking my stick.

  “Yep and no backing out of the question either, I’ll even let you break,” he said confidently.

  Not turning down an easy opportunity I nod and walk to the end of the table. I watch him check the rack and position it for me. Deep breaths in, I position the cue off to the right just a bit, lean in, take aim while pulling back and release with force. I exhale when I hear the crack of the cue and watch as the balls distribute across the table. A solid drops in the side pocket and then a strip in the corner. CRAP! Irritated I tell Zane the table is open.

  Walking around the table he is eyeing his shot. There are plenty of open shots for him to take. Leaning down he aims for a solid ball that he easily makes in. Yeah saw that happening. “Nice shot there big guy.” Trying hard not to let my frustration show.

  “Ok first question is what is your favorite color?” He said smiling.

  “Really? That’s your question?”

  “Yep, never said the question had to be earth shattering, and I figured I needed to start you out slow.” His eyes glistening with sarcasm.

  “That is all under the assumption you will get to ask more questions.” I said with a curt smile.

  “Blue.”

  He doesn’t comment only gives a sweet smile and moves on to his next shot. Eyeing the table again he sees a shot leans down and takes it, and of course it goes in. Ok two easy shots this will end soon.

  “What’s your middle name?” He says with an eyebrow raised.

  I can’t help but chuckle at the obscure question but don’t mind answering. “Victoria.”

  “Reece Victoria Miller, I like it,” he says with a toothy grin.

  “Thanks, my dad did too.” As I tilted my head and offering a bat of the eyes and an innocent smile.

  Bopping his head up and down in acceptance of my response he circles the table for his next shot. This time he just misses the pocket, turning the table over to me.

  My first shot goes in easily. “Ok Mr. Bauer, first question, why did Mark ask for your autograph?”

  He leans against the barstool behind him, ankles and arms crossed. Looking down at his feet he slowly looks up, his beautiful brown eyes shining at me. “Well Reece, he probably asked for my autograph because he is a fan.”

  “Fan huh? Fan of what exactly?”

  Shaking his index finger left and right at me. “Nuh uh, Ms. Miller, one question per shot made.”

  Immediately my hands shoot to my hips in protest. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Ah but I did, you asked why Mark asked for my autograph and I said probably because he’s a fan, question answered,” he says in all seriousness.

  “Fine if that’s how we are going to play this game….” I say with a pout and turn to take my next shot which I didn’t even take too much effort in the shot but still cleared it easily.

  “Ok next question. What would Mark be a fan of that involved you?”

  Laughing, “I see someone is getting impatient on the 2nd question.” I don’t find it funny and show him so with my expression.

  “Ok ok…. He’s a fan because I played pro football for four years as a defensive end for the T
exans until I was injured. That is why most people ask for my autograph, because they followed my career.”

  Looking a little stunned, I’m not sure what to say. I have been a football fan all my life. I have even been a Texans fan. But since my dad passed I stopped paying attention to the players’ names and just looked to see if they won or lost and rooted when they were on television.

  “Ok well I feel dumb! I can’t believe I didn’t connect who you are with who you were.”

  He responds with just a shake of his head leading me to think I might have offended him. Way to go genius.

  “Ok that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean to say you were two different people.”

  He’s laughing. “I’m not offended I knew what you meant. Now shoot so you can miss and I get another shot at a question.”

  His smug over confident attitude was both irritating and attractive. I happily obliged him without missing the shot.

  “How did you get injured?” Asking to be curious.

  “I was in my 4th year with the Texans. It was our first playoff game against the Colts. They had the ball on the 30 yard line. Ball was hiked and I took off for the quarterback but was hit head on by a Colts player. We both were knocked out cold and both carted off the field. Other guy just had a concussion and went back to playing. I didn’t end up so lucky. I had a few slip discs in my spine but what kept me from going back to the game was a traumatic brain injury. When I was hit the lower part of my brain was damaged from being slammed up against my skull and I had severe swelling. I was in the hospital for a month in an induced coma while my brain took time to heal. Once the swelling subsided, I was told that the injury I had could have been life threatening and that returning to football and potentially having another big hit like that could paralyze me or worse kill me. That made it pretty clear that playing was no longer in my cards and so I retired.”

  Hearing him talk about potentially dying from playing football seems surreal. I could see the anguish on his face as he talked about the hospital but more when he talked about not being able to return to football. Having to give up something you love like that all because someone didn’t follow the rules and head-butted you just seemed wrong.

  It’s taking me a minute to bring my focus back to the task at hand. Get your shit together girl you have a game to win. I must be thinking about what Zane has gone through when I take my shot because I missed.

  Seeing my failed attempt he pops up real quick grabbing his stick and quickly sinking a ball. Just great Reece WTF.

  “Yeah yeah no gloating, what’s the question?”

  I provoke hoping to get my question over with quickly.

  He shifts his weight and props his elbow on the arm he is resting against his chest and is rubbing his chin with one eyebrow raised. Man he can get that eyebrow to arch.

  “Don’t rush me. I have limited opportunity to learn about you I have to ask strategic questions,” he said with a smile.

  I think my pursed lips and eye roll were effective.

  “What are three things I don’t know about you?”

  “That’s not a question…. Try again…”

  “What do you mean it’s not a question? If I wrote it out there would be a question mark at the end of the statement hence a question… So, what are three things I don’t know about you?”

  Obviously I am going to lose this battle, but I’m not sure how to answer this question.

  “Fine, have it your way. 1. I am a five time collegiate amateur pool player…”

  He stops me from continuing. “Nope start over already knew that.”

  Sighing heavily, “Okay then, did you know I took ballet when I was younger? Yeah didn’t think so. 2. I can recite Pi to the 50th place and 3. I am an organized mess when it comes to my closet.” Smiling at him, pleased with my answers.

  “Well well, talented and smart I like that,” he says with a wink.

  It was that moment that I felt it, a feeling I haven’t felt in years, a rumble in the stomach that made me want to smile and throw up at the same time. He gave me the butterflies, full on flutters. A wink gave me butterflies? This is not good.

  “Just take your shot.” Was the only comeback I had when part of me wants to walk over and kiss the living shit out of him and I have NO idea why!

  I’m watching him lean over the rail to shoot and find myself actually licking my lips. Seeing his ass bent over and the muscles in his back through his shirt has stirred something up in me. Drifting off into a daydream, I’m picturing him above me. His bare chest moving in and out inches from me. Arms stretched out on both sides of my head as he holds himself up show the size and strength of his arms with their rippled muscles. His shoulders hunched down just enough to put his face inches from mine. His lips so close I can smell the sweet smell of spearmint on his breath. I lean up just a fraction to….

  “Hello? Reece? You in there?” He says waving his hand back and forth in front of my face bringing me out of my daydream. Attempting to regain my composure to look at him in the face after what I was just dreaming about I stammer out, “Um yeah I’m good, sorry, um who’s shot?”

  “Oh no no girl, I just made one in. You get another question. So my question is have you ever been in love?”

  Now that question came out of the blue and I am not sure I want to answer it. I don’t like the answer.

  “Pick a different question Zane,” I say with a stone face.

  “Sorry, can’t rules are rules. We said any question and no backing out.” He spits out while crossing his arms and giving me a go ahead nod.

  The butterflies I was feeling are gone and are replaced with pain, bend over want to rip my stomach out pain. I don’t want to talk about this.

  Lie, just lie he won’t know the difference. “Fine, yes I was in love once.” Ok or DON’T lie.

  “Once?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. Damn eyebrow.

  “Yes, ONCE. Is that so hard to believe?” Irritation dripping from my voice.

  “Easy killer, I was only asking wasn’t making any assumptions. Tell ya what, let’s up the stakes on this game a little. Up for it?”

  My apprehension is high, the last question has me guarded and I don’t know how much more I can take, but I don’t want to look weak.

  “Depends on your stakes….”

  “Fair enough, for every shot you make in a row, you get to ask an additional question. So when I make this in, that’s two in a row so I get two questions back to back. Up for it?” He pauses and is waiting for my answer.

  Nervous to answer not because I fear I’ll lose, but because I am seeing he has a straight shot on a corner pocket which means I will get back to back questions.

  “You’re on now shoot.”

  Doing just that he easily makes the corner pocket as I saw it. “Tell me about who you were in love with.”

  GREAT. “What is there to tell? Girl falls in love with boy, boy is best friend, boy goes off to military, boy comes back to girl and confesses his love and then life fucking happened. The end. Ok next question.”

  My hands are gripping the side of my bar stool so tight my knuckles are turning white. I haven’t talked about him in so long. Why did I agree to this?

  “Hmmm ok, next question, what in life fucking happened?” He asked slowly, resting the pool stick on the table assuming this conversation would take a while.

  Deep breath in, I sigh letting it out. “I don’t want to talk about this really can you ask a different question? Please,” I ask with the deepest plea possible.

  I can see him pondering his response by the expression on his face. He almost looks tormented.

  “Ok Reece, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’ll ask something different.”

  Immediately, the tension in my hands release. I feel as though I just dodged a huge bullet right now, and I suddenly feel like I need a drink, a really hard straight up drink. Standing I walk toward the bar passing Zane looking at me with a confused expression and motion for him to follow
me. Meeting me at the bar “Ok, guess you were thirsty?” He asks. “Actually I think it’s time for a shot,” I say a little too chipper as I lean arms folded against the bar. “Ladies choice,” he comments waving his hand toward the bartender waiting to take our order. “Two Vegas Bombs the original way please.”

  The bartender returns with two shot glasses filled to the brim and two larger glasses filled halfway with Red Bull. I pass one of the larger glasses to Zane and motion for him to pick up one of the filled shot glasses. “Familiar with these?” I ask, raising the filled shot glass up in the air and holding the glass of Red Bull in the other. Without answering he drops the shot in the glass of Red Bull and toasts his glass towards mine which I quickly drop my shot as well. “Here is to getting to know the Reece that has been lost,” he says taking the glass to his lips and downing it. I stand staring at him, the idea of him getting to know who I have wanted no one to know makes me weak in the knees. I quickly bring the drink to my lips and finish it off.

  “Ok then, I suppose I owe you an answer to a question so hit me.” Smacking my lips from the taste of the alcohol.

  Nodding up and down. “Yes you sure do, ok answer this, why don’t you sing anymore?”

  I wonder if the stunned look on my face matches the feeling I have inside. How does he know I use to sing? “How exactly do you know I use to sing?”

  “Ha, the questioned asking the questioner, hum not sure we addressed that in the rules so I guess I don’t have an argument. Well, Danny might have mentioned it. And when I heard you singing earlier I understood. You have a beautiful voice, so I’m curious why you don’t sing anymore.”

  Sitting on a stool at the bar I motion for the bartender to get me another round. “Well, long story short, I started singing because my mom was pretty musically talented and dad lived to put me on stage in front of anyone he could, but after Dad died, mom went well, fucking crazy basically. She became someone I didn’t want to be associated with. People knew her for her singing. She probably could have been a star if she hadn’t married a military man and given up her dreams. Danny taught me how to play guitar. I use to sit on my bedroom floor after my dad died and learned to play and sing all my favorites, but after a few weeks, I only wanted to play for my own therapy, it brought me closer to my dad. It just continued from there. Well now I sing in the shower, on my couch and in my car but you won’t find me on a stage. Just doesn’t feel like someplace I want to be.” I finished as I turned around to pick up the second round of Vegas Bombs and pushed one toward Zane. Lifting the glass in the air motioning for a toast. “Here’s to things we once did with no intention of reliving the past.” Zane tilted his head in question and put the shot down.