Coach Love

by Liz Crowe

  They stopped for food and coffee that Dom ignored in favor of downing half a dozen Tylenol then falling sound asleep against the window. The long, dark hours it took to drive home to Kentucky gave Kieran plenty of time to absorb what he’d learned about his brother, and by the time he pulled into his parents’ driveway at 5 a.m., he’d made a decision.

  He poked Dom’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go see Mama.” The man snorted, farted, and jerked awake.

  “What? Where are we?” Recognition made his jaw clench. “Oh, hell no. Take me to my place.”

  “We gotta tell them.”

  “We aren’t doing anything and you are keeping your mouth shut about this, capice?”

  When he touched Dom’s arm, the heat of the man’s skin shocked him. All sorts of dire concepts came at him then, including AIDS. Dom jerked out from under his palm.

  “I’m fine. Jesus. Get me to my place and leave me alone. And so help me if you tell Mama or Daddy....”

  “Fine. I won’t tell them. But are you...okay, I mean, not...you know, sick?”

  “You know what brown-noser? I am sick. Sick in the head, sick of all of this crap.” Dom punched the dashboard hard enough to make it shudder. “Now take me home. That,” he pointed out the windshield, “is not my home.”

  “But, it is.”

  “Lord have mercy will you stop already? I spent a night getting the ever-loving shit kicked out of me by a bunch of rednecks. I don’t require a lecture from you on what I should do next. I’m fine. I fucked up, all right? I trusted somebody and I shouldn’t have. End of story. Now take me home.” He slumped down in the seat and tugged his blood-splattered ball cap down over his face.

  Kieran had no words for that, so he put the truck in reverse, hoping his early-to-rise parents hadn’t noticed their oldest son’s truck pull into the drive then leave again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cara waited while Kieran’s mother warmed up riding the stationary bike. The sensation of moving through fog twenty-four-seven would not go away—unless she alleviated it with long, sweaty sessions of sex, followed by a nap.

  She shifted in her chair, her skin prickling with the odd, low-lying buzz of what she could only honestly call horniness. Sighing, she helped Lindsay off the bike, guiding her over to the table in order to evaluate her recovery from hip-replacement surgery.

  “Oh Lord, this thing pains me. I don’t know why you make me get on that contraption.” Lindsay lowered herself onto the pillow with a long exhalation, gripping Cara’s arm, her face contorting in pain.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’m the mistress of the torture chamber most days.”

  She manipulated Lindsay’s leg, stretching and extending it to gauge how well she responded post-surgery. It had been seven months since she’d been rushed to the ER after falling on a wet spot in the laundry room, having lain on the hard concrete floor for nearly two hours before anyone found her. Cara’s friend Helen had been on duty in surgery that day and had called to tell her Lindsay had coded twice on the operating table. With her weakened condition they had little hope she’d pull through such a trauma. But she had in her inimitable fashion and now lay there groaning her way through a biweekly PT session.

  They chatted during the stretches, the treadmill work, the electrical stimulation, and the ice. Cara had to shove away the urge to compare her to the cool and aloof Vivian Lowery.

  When the door opened and the desk staff called out the greeting, she froze, her hand on Lindsay’s arm. By the time Kieran stuck his head around the corner, her stomach had tied itself in knots.

  “Hey ladies, you ’bout done?”

  Of course he’d come to get his mother. She wasn’t supposed to drive yet.

  “Oh, I don’t know, hon,” Lindsay said, shifting on the table. “I love it here. I may never leave.”

  Rendered speechless, Cara took him in from the way his deep-red hair had grown out, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, down his lean torso and long legs. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the urge to leap at him, rip his clothes off, and get at that body that she knew so well.

  “Um, dear, you’re gonna bruise me.” Lindsay touched the fingers Cara had wrapped around her arm.

  “Oh, I’m so, so sorry.” She jumped away, horrified and embarrassed. Kieran lingered on his mother’s other side, with that tilted-head I-love-to-watch-you-sleep gaze.

  Lindsay glanced over at her son. “Y’all go on, leave me alone in my misery.” She patted the ice pack and fluttered her fingers at them. Cara spluttered and made a few excuses about needing to monitor the patient.

  “If I have to, I will push you right out the door with my bad leg and then you’ll be in real trouble. Go on out of here.”

  Cara’s heart constricted in a way that it never, ever did when Kent smiled at her. Her stomach flipped over and she suddenly wanted to lie down and take a nap.

  Kieran followed her into her tiny cubicle and flopped down in a chair. He took up the whole space, in the way only really tall men ever did. Pretending to study her computer screen, she ignored him as best she could.

  “So, uh, can I buy you a coffee, or something? Glass of wine?”

  She kept her gaze averted, unwilling to let him know he might get away with being so flippant.

  “No thanks, jerk.” She stuck her clunky shoe-clad feet on the desk between them.

  He mirrored her on the other side, his grin only getting wider.

  “Stop that,” she said, staring at him.

  “Stop what?” he asked, sending a fresh jolt of lust down her spine. When he put his arms behind his head, leaning farther back he winced. “Ow.”

  “Still sore from the accident?” She rose and squeezed around the desk, getting a full breath of his soapy smell. “Let me see.”

  “Oh no you don’t. I can’t afford you anymore. My insurance has declared ‘no more PT for you, K. Love.’”

  “Consider it a donation. Hurry up before my boss catches me.”

  He shrugged and pulled his shirt off before she told him not to. His left shoulder was an awful mess, still mottled with colorful bruises. “Wow. That’s ugly.” Distracting her attention from the sight of his torso she manipulated his arm, showed him some exercises he should do then picked his shirt up off the floor.

  “Why did you break up with me?”

  The backs of her legs bumped against her chair so she sat, hard. Kieran faced her with shirt in hand, elbows on knees, staring directly into her soul.

  “I...um...Don’t ask me that now. It’s been too long done.”

  “I’m sorry. Curious I guess. Now that I’m single again.”

  “I heard. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  She pressed her palm over her flat stomach and took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  He blinked. “Oh, so, wow. Congratulations to you and, um what’s-his-name.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “So.” He stood, and the sight of him tugging his shirt down over his bare chest made her skin crawl and her fingers curl into fists on her thighs. “Guess I should get Lindsay home now.”

  “Yeah, you should.” She stayed seated, trying not to kiss him. Her lips hurt she wanted to do that so very badly. He took the single step between the chair and the doorway to the therapy room. “Wait,” she said, getting to her feet.

  Moving in something like slow motion to her lust-addled, hormone-saturated brain he pulled her to him, making her go way up on her tiptoes as he slammed the door shut with his foot. His lips were firm, and she opened her mouth to him, gripping at his hair, his shoulders, snaking her fingers under his shirt, reaching down to unzip his shorts.

  “Whoa, whoa, honey....” He broke away and held onto her wrists, peering down at her in a way that utterly infuriated her. “Stop it. I mean it.” She blinked, acknowledging she’d been within seconds of committing yet more sin with this man.

  Feeling lame, desperate, and slutty she sagged against her desk, dropping down until
her butt found the floor and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he’d crouched down on her level somehow in the cramped space. He touched her cheek. She took his hand, holding onto it as she let the tears flow.

  Finally, he pulled her to her feet, gathering her close, and held on, letting her sob it out like he knew to do. She grabbed the back of his shirt, sensing herself float away on a cloud of conflicted remorse, willing her life in reverse for the millionth time.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, swiping at her wet cheeks and pushing her hair out of her face. “Don’t. I can’t take anymore. Can I ask one question?”

  “No,” she mumbled, before grabbing the tissue he held out to her and blowing her nose. “Not if it’s the question I think it is.”

  He folded her in a warm, friendly embrace—friendly being the key word. She pressed her face into his chest, sucking in deep breaths, memorizing him.

  “Fair,” he spoke into her hair. They lingered long enough for the air to clear, her tears to dry, and for someone to knock on the door, asking after her. He grinned and chucked her under the chin in a way that sent what remained of her heart skittering down to her feet. She exhaled and forced the words out before he could open the door.

  “I broke up with you because I was afraid.”

  “Afraid of what? Me? I’m the least scary of the whole clan, you know that.”

  “Don’t joke.” She still tasted him, and willed him gone so she could breathe again. “I didn’t want to be that girl who married her high school sweetheart. I needed to experience things, you know? To see what else there was? Besides, my mama married her sweetheart from Lucasville High and we all know how well that went.”

  “Why in the hell didn’t you tell it that way to me then? You told me you didn’t love me anymore. That you’d never loved me. All sorts of verbal tidbits I will never forget, thanks much.”

  She winced when her stomach cramped. “I know. I was really—”

  “A heartless bitch, really.” He held up both hands when she opened her mouth to reply. “No, listen. I gotta get this off my chest now, Cara, since we’re being all honest or whatever. You dumped me without so much as a second thought. You slammed the door on me.” He ground his teeth and looked down at the floor.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I...I never stopped loving you.”

  “Huh, funny you should mention that now. Being engaged to some rich jerk of a lawyer who’ll make you move to Louisville and fill his McMansion with spawn.”

  “I know.” She dropped into her seat. “I know.”

  Thumbing her chin, he bent and put his face close. Too close. “I never stopped loving you either. Guess we’re both a day late and a buck-and-a-half short.” He stopped. They glared at each other a few seconds. Cara sighed when he touched her lips with his fingertip. “But you know what? You never were easy to satisfy. Something tells me you’d have dumped me somewhere along the line.” He hovered, and she wished he’d kiss her. But he retreated and tugged his shirttail out over his shorts.

  “Don’t talk like that.” Her voice sounded small and weak.

  “Like what? Like a realist? I have no woman, no car, no job, nothing really. You have a future husband, a bun in the oven, and a huge bank account to pad the rest of your life as a housewife.” The tone of his voice nearly killed her.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, probably not.” He heaved a sigh. “Go on, call Mr. Perfect Lawyer, tell him to pick you up from work, go home, and give him the blow job you were about to give me. That’ll ease your conscience, right?”

  “Now you’re being an asshole,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Yeah, well maybe if I’d been more of an asshole earlier in my life I’d not be in this place right now, admitting to my high school girlfriend that I still love her, like the lamest douche-bag on God’s green earth.” He banged the back of his head against the door once, twice, then again.

  When she tried to get out of the chair, a bolt of pain sliced through her lower abdomen, forcing her to grip the desk. “Holy...cow...ow...ow....” Her body stayed clenched in a long agonizing cramp. When she saw blood darkening her blue scrubs, terror gripped her as a wave of nausea rolled through her gut.

  “Mama!” She heard Kieran yelp as the room got gray around the edges.

  Cara was soothed by Lindsay’s cool, calm voice for a second until the next cramp gripped her so hard she fell to her knees. “Honey, let Kieran carry you out. We’ve called an ambulance.”

  Everything in her seemed focused on one task—transforming her entire world into a living, white-hot ball of agony. When Kieran lifted her up, she slumped against his chest. With so much background noise, voices mostly unfamiliar, she focused on Lindsay’s.

  “Where’s Kent, sweetheart? We need to let him know to meet us at the hospital.”

  “He’s...he’s...” She fixated on Kieran’s green gaze as he held her close. Her brain wouldn’t cooperate. Where had Kent gone last weekend? Wasn’t he due back…tomorrow? Something triggered her memory. Something about... “Atlanta. Depo...deposition.” Her lungs slowly squeezed, cutting off her air supply. “Asthma. G-g-g-got your inhaler?”

  “No honey, I don’t,” Kieran replied as she slumped against him, needing to hear his heartbeat. He added, “It’s gonna be fine. Hang on to me.”

  “In-in-inhaler. We sh-sh-sh-shared one, remember?”

  Her mother would forget to refill her prescription with predictable regularity. Since they used Medicaid, she claimed the feds would change the rules on her. Cara had to use Kieran’s inhaler when they’d both needed one as kids. And that near-forgotten sensation had returned with a vengeance, her lungs once more like tiny, useless empty balloons in her chest, unable to take in or hold air.

  “Count to twenty,” he reminded her of their childhood trick. “Focus on the numbers.”

  She nodded and counted, holding onto him and shutting out all the other noise.

  “Where is that fucking...sorry,” he said from a long way away. “You okay? Cara? Honey?”

  She nodded but believed she must be dying. And the next time the pain grabbed hold with claws that dug deep into her belly, she let the darkness take her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kieran jerked awake, his body half on an uncomfortable small couch and half on the floor, befuddled by his surroundings. Rubbery, medicinal odors filled his nose, making him sneeze. He focused on the nondescript beige walls, the muffled noises, all of it way too familiar to him by that time in his life. His mother sat thumbing through an old magazine, humming to herself. Her ever-present innate calmness settled his nerves.

  “Mornin’, sleeping beauty.” She peered at him over the top of her reading glasses.

  “Morning,” he said, licking his teeth. “Did he show yet?”

  “He’s due in any minute.” She checked her watch. “According to his mother anyway.” Lindsay nodded across the room at a prim woman with her purse on her lap, her lips pressed into a thin line. When Kieran gaped at her she met his gaze a split second then averted hers as though she’d seen something nasty.

  “Okay, well, I’m gonna go then.” His heart pounded. That bizarre scene in Cara’s tiny office still had him reeling.

  His mother touched his arm. “Don’t go yet.”

  “Mama, she doesn’t need me here. Her fiancé is on his way.”

  “Don’t be obstinate.”

  “I’m not. We helped her out. Now we can leave her with her family and the medical experts here.” He waved around the cramped waiting room.

  At that moment a nurse came through a set of double doors. “Is Mister Lowery here yet?”

  “No,” Lindsay said, getting to her feet and tucking her glasses into her purse. “Hey there, Laura.” She walked over and put her arm around the nurse. “How is your daddy gettin’ on these days?”

  “He’s fine, Missus Love. Thanks for asking. He’s in that memory-care home, over nearer to town. But it’s for the best.”

&
nbsp; “Well, I’ll be sure and give your mama a call tomorrow. I should get over and visit him with her.”

  The nurse nodded at Kieran’s mother then glanced at him. “Y’all want to go in and see her? She’s groggy but asking for you.”

  Missus Lowery rose and straightened her perfectly straight slim skirt. “I am the girl’s....ah...future mother-in-law. I’ll stay with her until my son arrives. He’s about thirty minutes out. Took a flight from Atlanta, left his car down there.”

  “I...um, can I see her for a minute? Until her…until Kent gets here?” Kieran heard the begging tone in his voice and cleared his throat.

  “Sure thing, hon,” the nurse said. “Let’s all go.” She glanced over at Kent’s mother who hovered, simultaneously awkward and above it all. “She’s stable now.”

  “Is the....” Kent’s mother interjected.

  “The doctor will be around to speak with y’all once Mr. Lowery arrives.” The nurse shook her head slowly, telling him all he needed to know.

  Kent’s mother exhaled. A sudden flash of anger made his vision narrow. But he focused forward and led the way into her room. Cara’s eyes were closed but when he walked over and touched her, she opened them and smiled at him, leaving him breathless.

  “Welcome back. Nice drama.” He had to work to keep the tremor out of his voice.

  She looked past him, frowning, and he wished he’d told Kent’s mother to stay in the waiting room.

  No, not your place anymore remember?

  “Yeah,” she croaked. “Sorry. Just keeping you on your toes.”

  His mother shoved him aside and patted her shoulder. “You did that and then some. We wanted to check in real quick and see for our own selves that you were all right.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off Cara. He wanted to be the one here for her. It made him ache deep in his gut knowing he couldn’t be.

  “Where is she?” An unfamiliar male voice bellowed down the hall. “Where the hell is, oh thank the Lord.” Kent Lowery rushed in and went straight to her side, crouching down and putting his lips near her ear. “Honey, honey, my Cara,” he crooned. “You’re fine. Everything is fine.”