He thought about it as he showered and then dressed for the day. He pondered it as he drove to the practice. He prayed about it as he geared up for the game. And he agonized over it as the lights on the field came alive, revealing thousands upon thousands of screaming fans.
If he could just get through tonight’s game. . .he would make everything okay again.
Somehow.
❧
Brianna paced the hallway of the hospital, avoiding her grandmother’s room at all costs. Inside Rena and Lora sat on either side of the bed, waving their pennants as always and shouting craziness to the television.
“Use your hospital voices, ladies!” Brianna had encouraged them. Not that it appeared to matter. Folks in nearly every room seemed to be watching the game, and a rousing cheer went up from the whole floor as Brandon led the team to victory.
The whole thing proved to be more than irritating; it was downright annoying, particularly in light of today’s events.
She fumed as she went back over the newspaper articles in her mind. How could Brandon have used the incident with her grandmother to promote himself? Did he not realize Gran-Gran would be hurt?
Okay, so she wasn’t really hurt. And, yes, she’d actually enjoyed the story, claiming it cemented her as the Steelers’ biggest fan. But, really, what right did Brandon have to tell the press about her grandmother in the first place? Would he do anything to get a story, even at the expense of others?
She continued to pace long after the game ended. Finally, when she could wait no longer, Brianna made her way back into the room and pretended to busy herself with a magazine.
“Brandon Campbell is the best thing that ever happened to us,” Gran-Gran declared with a satisfied look on her face. “Handsome—and a great player to boot! And he got me my first-ever write-up in the paper. Eighty-four years I’ve lived and have never seen my name in the paper once. Till now. Gotta give the boy a hand for that and for leading us to victory tonight!”
At that she let out a whoop, and the other ladies followed suit. Brianna rolled her eyes. Obviously they didn’t see Brandon as a problem.
Hmm. If they didn’t, why did she?
Well, never mind all that right now. She needed to boot her grandmother’s visitors out of the room. She did so with the wave of a hand.
“Ladies, I think it’s time for Gran-Gran to get her beauty sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
“Aw, do they hafta leave?” her grandmother asked with a pout. “I’m in the mood for a slumber party.”
“No sleepovers tonight,” Brianna scolded.
Lora stood, and Rena tried to follow suit. She let out an exaggerated groan as she finally made her way to her feet, followed by a winsome, “If I’d known I was gonna live this long, I would’ve taken better care of myself.”
After a bit more grumbling, the two older women headed out of the room, singing Brandon’s praises all the way. They waved their good-byes at the door but never stopped the chatter for a minute.
Gran-Gran settled back against the pillow and yawned. “You missed a great game, Bree,” she said. “You have no idea how good Brandon is.”
“It’s more likely we have no idea how bad he is,” she muttered in response.
“Careful now, girl,” Gran-Gran said with a frown. She turned back to the television. “Oh, look—the news is on!” She reached for the remote to turn up the sound. The television reporter was giving an animated play-by-play of the game. From the background clips Brianna could see Brandon truly was a great player, maybe better than most she’d seen. But that didn’t make him a good person, did it?
The story ended, and she’d just reached down to give Gran-Gran a good-night kiss on the cheek when the lead for an upcoming story grabbed her attention. What was that the news reporter said? Something about Brandon and an ice-cream video?
She turned to face the television, her jaw dropping as she watched a rough, unedited video clip. Oh, no!
It was all there, the two of them seated together at the Steel City Scoop-a-Rama, talking. Brandon taking her by the arm when she tried to leave. Oh, dear. How did that crazy kid videotape this? Was that even possible on a cell phone?
As the news clip ended, her grandmother gave her an inquisitive look, then spoke softly. “It was obvious he didn’t want you to leave. He wanted you to stay with him.”
“I guess.” She exhaled a sigh as she replayed the look on Brandon’s face over and over again. Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to leave, but that hadn’t stopped her, had it?
“Are you sure you can’t give him one more chance, honey?” Gran-Gran reached over and stroked her arm. “He’s a great guy.”
Brianna shrugged and reached for her purse. “I’ll pray about it,” she promised. “That’s about all I can offer at this point.”
“Well, then!” Her grandmother’s smile lit the room. “Don’t be surprised if the Lord grabs hold of that prayer and does something with it, something remarkable.”
“Trust me—nothing would surprise me at this point.” Brianna kissed Gran-Gran on the cheek once more and headed for the door. She stopped just as she reached it and turned back. “But answer this one question for me.”
“Yes?” “Are you gonna go on matchmaking forever?”
A serious look came over her grandmother’s face before she answered. “Well, on this side of forever anyway. Don’t likely know as I’ll go on doing it from the other side.” She gave Bree a playful wink.
“You’re a pill. You know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” Gran-Gran said as she fussed with the sheets. “But you love me.”
“More than life itself.” Brianna blew her grandmother a kiss and headed off on her way home.
FIFTEEN
Brandon spent the next few weeks fending off reporters and practicing with the team. A cool front hovered over Pittsburgh, and it seemed to have affected Brianna’s heart. He’d noticed it nearly every time he visited with Abbey at the hospital and then the rehab facility, but that hadn’t kept him from trying. A couple of times he’d gone knocking at Brianna’s door, thinking she was holed up inside the house. Not once had she answered the door.
One Friday morning, as he sat reading the paper, Brandon noticed some movement through the open blinds at his living room window. He eased his way toward it and watched Brianna pull her car into the driveway next door. So Abbey was home at last. He would rest much easier knowing that.
He headed out the front door right away with a smile on his face, ready to be of assistance. He made it over to Brianna’s car in seconds and helped her pull the walker from the trunk. She nodded her appreciation. Then he went to the passenger side and opened the front door for Abbey.
“Glad you’re home!” he said with a wink as he extended his hand.
With his help she managed to stand. Then, with Brianna’s support, Abbey gripped the walker and took a couple of steps.
“Would you mind getting those?” Brianna gestured to two small suitcases and a plastic bag with the hospital’s name on it.
“I’d be happy to.” Brandon walked along behind them until they reached the front porch. Once there Brianna handed him the house key, and he opened the aging wooden door with a grin. “Welcome home!”
He followed the ladies into the living room, startled to see a twin bed where the love seat used to sit. Abbey made her way over to it with a look of chagrin on her face. Brandon gave Brianna an inquisitive look.
“Had to,” she whispered. “Doctor’s orders.”
“I might be old, but I’m not deaf,” Abbey interjected.
“Besides, you won’t hurt my feelings by speaking up. I’m not ready to climb those stairs just yet. Not for another week or so.”
“How did you get the bed down here?” he asked Brianna.
“Pastor Meyers helped,” she said with a shrug. “We put the love seat in the garage for now. It’s just temporary.”
A sense of disappointment came over Brandon as he realized Brianna hadn’t come t
o him for help.
Brianna helped her grandmother get situated in the bed, and Brandon made himself busy putting the walker in the front hall closet. He looked around the room again, stunned at how different it looked. It’s hospital-like decor made him a little uncomfortable.
“Gran-Gran, I need to get your prescriptions filled,” Brianna said as she reached for her purse.
“Would you like for me to sit with her while you’re gone?” Brandon offered.
“You, um, don’t mind?”
“No. Not at all.”
After Brianna left, Abbey gave Brandon a woeful shrug. “Kind of sad that I need a sitter, don’t you think?”
“Of course not! I’m just a friend here for a visit. That’s all.”
She sighed as she looked around the room. “I don’t think I’m going to enjoy sleeping in here; that’s sure and certain. The sun comes in through that window in the morning.” Her brow wrinkled in concern. “But I guess I’ll manage, regardless. It’s only for a week or so.”
“Well, you do as the doctor says,” Brandon encouraged her. “No stair climbing until he says it’s okay. Don’t go trying to be a hero.”
“No, you’re the hero,” she said. “You’re the best player we’ve seen in years. I’ve been watching you, you know.”
“Hardly the best.” He paused then gave a more detailed apology than the one he’d given her at the hospital for the ongoing news stories, along with a lengthy description of what had really happened, including the part about his troubles back in Florida. He ended by telling her about his conversion to Christ, focusing on the role his mother had played in leading him to the Lord.
“She sounds like someone I would like,” Abbey said.
“Oh, you’d love her.” He paused then said, “And I know she knows I’m solid in my relationship with the Lord, so I’m not sure why I worry so much about what other people think. I guess, because I’m in the limelight, I just want to be careful—I don’t want to give God a bad name.” He let out an exaggerated sigh.
“You’re worried for nothing, Brandon,” Abbey said. “When I watch those news stories, all I see is a man who’s no longer what he used to be. A man who wants a second chance. Just like all of us at one point or another.”
“Thank you.” He smiled.
“And besides,” she added, “there’s hardly a person mentioned in the Bible who didn’t give the Lord a bad name. David was a murderer but went on to be called a man after God’s own heart. And Paul, before he came to the Lord, put Christian converts to death. Several of the great men of faith, like Abraham, for example, got ahead of the Lord and created their own plans. Peter, one of Jesus’ disciples, denied Him several times over but still went on to do great exploits for Him. Shall I go on?”
“Nah. No point.” Brandon felt relief wash over him as she spoke. Somehow, talking to Abbey always made things better. She seemed to feel the words, as if she’d lived them personally.
“Good. Now let’s talk about Bree,” Abbey said, looking rather stern.
“What about her?”
“Well, it’s clear to me God has brought you here to Pittsburgh for a reason—other than just playing football, I mean—and I’m convinced it’s to marry my granddaughter.”
“O–oh?” For a second Brandon was stunned. “What makes you so sure?”
“I just know in my knower. And trust me—my knower’s been around long enough to get it right much of the time.”
“I see. So what do you suggest I do about this?”
“Well, we’ve lost several weeks, what with me being in the hospital and all. We’ve got to make up for lost time. First order of business will be to watch and pray. Time will be the thing that wins her over. That and a few more winning games from you.”
“Brianna cares about football scores?”
“Well, no. . .” Abbey’s gaze shifted, and he noticed a smile. “But a few winning games would continue to win me over, and that’s very important if you’re going to develop a relationship with her.”
“Aha. I see. Well, I wouldn’t want to lose your favor, that’s for sure.” He smiled, then looked out the window as he thought about Brianna. It would likely take more than time to win her over. But to start the ball rolling, he had to know more about her.
Some things, of course, were obvious. Clearly she was a strong Christian, vastly different from most of the women he had known. But would a girl who had followed the Lord most of her life give a guy like him a second glance? Did she question his relationship with the Lord? He wouldn’t blame her. She only had the news reports to go on, and they appeared to contradict it. But what could he do about that? Seemed a bit futile even to ponder the idea of winning her heart.
And what was up with the football thing? So her dad was into the game. Neglected the family. Was that really enough to keep her from developing a friendship with someone involved in the sport? Maybe this would be a good time to ask the big question.
“I, um, I tried to ask her about Daniel that night at the ice cream shop,” he started.
“Oh?”
“She shut me down. I could tell that was a closed door.”
“Well, it’s about time it opened.” Abbey’s eyes glistened, and for a moment he thought she might cry. “I was hoping she would tell you herself—thought it would be good for her to talk about it—but I don’t mind spilling the beans.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She paused then started the story. “Daniel was Bree’s sweetheart in high school. He was a quarterback on the team her father coached—their senior year.”
“Wow. I would think having a player for a boyfriend would have endeared her to the game, not pushed her away.”
“Well. . .” Abbey fiddled with the sheets then sighed. “From what I’ve been able to gather, my son has always been a tough coach. The players respect him, but he demands a lot from them. And everything came to a head during one particular game.”
“Oh?”
“Mind you, I wasn’t there that night. I only know what I’ve been told. Daniel was playing really well, and they were leading. In fact, they were far enough ahead that the first- string should’ve been pulled.”
“Right.”
“Glen was trying to prove some sort of point to the opposing coach by running up the score, so he kept them in the game—well beyond the exhaustion point.”
“Yikes. Dangerous.”
“Right. From what I’ve been told, they were worn out by the fourth quarter. Daniel took a dirty hit late in the game, and they thought—at least at first—he’d broken his neck. Praise God, that wasn’t the case. Several cracked vertebrae. But you know as well as I do what that meant for his career.”
Brandon knew, all right. All it would take was one more hit to a neck already damaged and the guy could be paralyzed for life.
“Daniel never played again. Never went to UCLA.”
“Man, that had to be tough.”
“Bree was devastated,” Abbey added. “And Daniel was never the same after that, either. He pushed her away. I think he might’ve blamed her dad, and—from what I’ve been able to pick up—she did, too.” Abbey’s eyes misted over. “Her real issue has always been with her father, not football. It’s funny how she has the two linked together in her mind.”
A stirring at the back door startled them both.
“Bree,” Abbey whispered then put her finger to her lips to bring the conversation to an abrupt halt. “She’s home. I’ll have to finish later.”
“Okay.”
Seconds later Brianna entered the room with three prescription bottles in her hand. She looked at Brandon and offered him a curt nod. “Thanks for keeping an eye on things so I could do this. It put my mind at ease to know you were here.”
“Sure. We had a great time.”
“Brandon’s really lifted my spirits,” Abbey added. “I was happy to have him. And I’m hoping he’ll stay for lunch.”
Brandon looked at his watch, stunn
ed to see so much time had passed. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t. The game calls.”
“Then you must answer,” Abbey said in a more-than- serious tone. “We can’t have our star quarterback late, now can we?”
He flinched at the words star quarterback but didn’t argue. To do so would only add more attention to it, and that wouldn’t bode well for him right now.
He nodded at Brianna as he made his way toward the front door. He wanted to pause, to take her by the hand and talk with her, to draw her into a quiet conversation, like the one they’d had at the hospital that day.
He couldn’t seem to take his gaze off her, but she seemed distracted, distant, so he settled on a quick good-bye. “You ladies have a great day,” he said with a smile.
Brianna offered a polite nod, and Abbey said, “Go get ’em, tiger!” then gave him a thumbs-up sign.
He swallowed the temptation to laugh and shot out the door, ready to face the rest of the day.
❧
The weekend passed uneventfully. Brianna fixed a couple of great meals, which Gran-Gran seemed to love. Several ladies from the church brought food, too, including Mitzi Meyers, the pastor’s wife, who stopped by after church on Sunday. She prayed for Abbey and told her how much she’d been missed by everyone at Calvary Community.
On Monday morning, with Lora stepping in to care for her grandmother, Brianna finally felt free to return to work.
“Promise me you’ll call if you need me for anything,” she urged.
“Oh, go on now,” Gran-Gran said. “It’ll be good for you to get back to work. Besides, Lora’s been itching to get into my kitchen to cook for me.”
“I have?” Lora’s eyes grew large. “You know I’m no cook, Abbey.”
“Exactly. Which is why you need the practice. And I’ll be here to guide you every step of the way.”
Lora let out a groan, and Brianna giggled as she gazed at the two older women. She hoped when she reached their age she would have as much spunk.
Red, White and Blue Weddings: Red Like Crimson, White as Snow, Out of the Blue Page 24
