by Susan Stoker
Again, Coach paused. This time a longer one. So long, Harley wasn’t sure he was going to continue. For all she knew, he’d fallen asleep. Then out of the blue, Coach asked, “Why does Dr. Pepper come in bottles?”
His voice was sad, the question totally incongruent to the topic of the tapes he’d been reminiscing about. Harley was confused, but went with it, not wanting to interrupt the flow of whatever was going through his head. “I don’t know,” she said softly.
“That’s what Jenny said too,” Coach recalled in a sad tone. “It’s a joke. I knew she wouldn’t get it, she wasn’t old enough, but being twelve and full of hormones, I thought it was the funniest thing ever. I asked her that question in one of our taped conversations. She listened to it one morning, obviously having just woken up. Her answer was full of yawns and she sounded completely out of it. I warned her she probably wouldn’t know the answer and that was okay. But she tried so hard to answer it…for me.”
Harley’s eyes filled as she felt a splash of wetness against her shoulder. Coach’s tears. Each drop of liquid against her skin tore her heart in two. The man lying in her arms was hurting. Badly. She ruthlessly held her own tears back, breathing deeply through her nose. This was about Coach, not her. He needed her to be strong.
Coach acted as if he didn’t even know he was crying. He didn’t try to wipe his tears away. He only continued to tell his story in a heartbreakingly despondent tone.
“Jenny hemmed and hawed and finally said just what you did. ‘I don’t know, Johnny. If it didn’t, it would just fall out. It has to be in bottles otherwise we wouldn’t be able to drink it.’ I remember laughing at her response.”
Harley didn’t move a muscle. Johnny. He’d told her once that he didn’t go by his first name. That as far as the Army and everyone else knew, his name was Beckett.
Johnny.
It was what his beloved little sister called him.
And he was speaking about her in the past tense.
Her heart broke for the man in her arms.
The tears escaped her eyes even as she tried desperately to hold them back. This was about him, and Jenny, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract Coach and have him feeling as though he needed to console her. Her tears dripped down the sides of her face into the pillow beneath her head, soaking the fabric.
“The answer is actually, ‘Because his wife died.’” Coach paused, as if waiting for Harley to get the joke.
It took a moment, but finally she grimaced at the horribly off-color joke and chuckled weakly, telling him without words that the meaning had sunk in.
“Yeah,” Coach agreed, in the same forlorn voice, “Prepubescent boy humor. I obviously was in the jerk-off stage then, that’s the only excuse I have for telling that awful joke to my little sister. But Jenny didn’t get it. Even after I told her the answer in a later tape. She just told me it didn’t make sense, not understanding what a wife and a soft drink and drinking out of bottles had to do with each other, and went on with a story about what happened to her on the playground at school that day.”
“What happened to her, Coach?” Harley prodded in a gentle voice when he paused once again. She’d listen to him reminiscing all night, but she realized he needed to get whatever had happened to Jenny off his chest.
“Mean girls. That’s what happened,” Coach mumbled in a tired, sad voice. His tears had stopped, but Harley could still feel the dampness of them on her shoulder. “Middle school came and the girls Jenny used to be friends with turned on her. Said she was fat and ugly. Made fun of her. Tripped her in the hall and laughed when her books went sprawling. Gossiped about her to the boys in the school. Everything they could do to get under a shy, too-trusting girl’s skin, they did.
“Then they went too far. One day a note appeared in her locker. It was supposedly from a boy. In it, the boy said he liked her and wanted to get to know her better. He told her he was shy and that he wanted to keep his identity a secret for the time being. Jenny ate it up. She loved having a secret admirer.
“In the note, the boy told her if she wanted to write him back to leave a note in the library inside a specific book in the history section. He said that no one had checked out the book in months, so it would be a safe place.”
Coach paused for a moment before continuing. “I guess she got caught up in the romance of it all and didn’t stop to think about what might really be going on. She opened up to this boy who she thought liked her. Telling him how sad she was that the other girls in the school didn’t like her and picked on her.
“When she told me about the boy and how much she liked him, I cautioned her. Told her to be careful. She broke my heart when she told me that he was the only friend she had.”
Harley couldn’t hold back the gasp, somehow sensing what was coming. She wanted to jump out of the bed and beg Coach not to continue, but she didn’t. It wouldn’t make anything un-happen. She kept silent and let him finish the incredibly sad tale.
“Yeah,” Coach agreed. “Jenny found out it was all a big trick when she overheard the girls laughing at lunch about something she’d told the boy the night before. She realized for the first time that everything she’d confided in the boy, she’d actually told to the bullies who were tormenting her. It broke her. I tried my best to reassure her it didn’t matter, that things would get better and she should blow it off, but she couldn’t. She was too heartbroken, humiliated, and devastated.”
Harley stroked Coach’s arm soothingly. She really didn’t want to hear the rest of the story, but knew Coach needed to tell it.
“I told her I was going to the library one night. It was a school night, and I know she didn’t believe me, but I winked at her and she winked back. I knew Jenny wouldn’t tell on me. I went over to a buddy’s house and partied. I didn’t get too drunk, I knew I needed to sneak back home, but it was a fun night. One of my best, and worst, memories of high school. The next morning, I got up for school. Jenny and I ate breakfast together. She seemed in a better mood. She laughed with me and I told her a little of what I did the night before. She seemed lighter, happier than I’d seen her in a long time. I was so relieved.
“We left for school. I was driving my own car and Jenny was still taking the bus, but she didn’t end up getting on it that day. After waving at me as I drove by the bus stop, she doubled back and waited until my parents left for work, and then went into the house. She went through every cabinet in the house and collected as many pills as she could. She took them all, Harley. Every single fucking one. Aspirin, Tylenol, Benadryl, antibiotics, anti-nausea pills, even some sleeping pills my mom had for when she had horrible headaches and needed them to sleep.”
The tears came faster down Harley’s cheeks now. She couldn’t stop them and she refused to take her hands off Coach to wipe them away. His voice was remote, as if he was telling a story about walking across the street instead of about his little sister dying.
“I got home from school first, as usual. I found her. She was lying on my bed, curled into a ball, clutching my pillow. She crawled into my bed to die, Harley. To this day, that haunts me. Maybe it was because she felt safe there, maybe it was because she wanted to apologize to me for doing it, I have no idea. She didn’t leave a note or anything, but we all knew why she’d done it. She couldn’t handle the humiliation of knowing she’d been tricked. She’d been dead for a couple of hours by the time I got home. Her body was cold and stiff. But I swear, she looked so peaceful. I’ve never seen her look so relaxed. At least not for a long time.”
“I’m sorry, Coach. I’m so sorry,” Harley told him with every bit of love she had in her heart.
“Yeah. Me too,” he agreed, sadly. Coach hadn’t moved from his position. If anything, he’d tightened his grip around Harley as he’d talked about Jenny’s death, as if she was the only thing holding him together.
“We had a memorial for her at the high school,” he went on. “Standing-room only. Lots of people stood up and said what a great person Je
nny had been. What great potential she had. She was going to do great things…and all that shit. But she was only thirteen, Harley. Thirteen. She had her whole life ahead of her, but no one knew what she was going to do, no one knew she was going to be a great success. It’s just something people say when a kid dies. Maybe she would’ve been the President, but she could’ve easily also ended up homeless and hooked on drugs, working at a fast food restaurant for the rest of her life or a dead-end job in a factory somewhere. But whatever she would’ve ended up doing, I wouldn’t have cared. She was Jenny. My little sister. I thought she’d always be there.”
Coach’s next words finally fully explained why he’d disappeared after lunch that day.
“The worst part about that memorial was when I was leaving, I saw the girls who’d been tormenting her. The reason she’d been lying dead curled up on my mattress in my room the day she died. They came to her fucking memorial, as if they cared. When Jenny killed herself because of what they’d done to her. It was too much. I lost it. I started screaming at them that they’d killed her. It was their fault. I was hauled out of the auditorium pretty quickly, but not before I saw the confusion on their faces. They honestly had no idea that they’d done anything wrong. None. They killed my little sister and didn’t even realize it.”
Coach took a deep breath and came full circle to what had happened at the restaurant with the high school girls. “I will never condone bullying. Ever. When I heard those girls today, it all came back. I realized that all it would’ve taken was one person being Jenny’s friend. Just one person standing up for her. One person putting themselves between her and those bitches. That’s what I did today. I’m not sorry for what I said.” The last was said belligerently.
“And you shouldn’t be,” Harley soothed though sniffles. “They deserved every word of it. I’m proud of you, Coach. And I love you. I know I said it earlier, but I’ll say it again. I love you. You’re exactly the kind of man I want to be around. You’re tough as nails, but you also care. I don’t think I’ve ever known a man with as much depth as you.”
Harley paused for a moment, considering her next words and whether she should even say them right now, but finally bit her lip and went for it, wanting him to understand. “I’m not like your sister. Even though I was picked on growing up, and there were times that I desperately wanted a friend who would eat lunch with me, and laugh with me when the mean girls at my school started making fun of me, I never once thought about killing myself.”
“I know you’re not,” Coach agreed immediately, showing her he knew her well enough to get what she meant. “You’re tougher than Jenny ever was. You ignore people who want to cut you down. You live your life your way, and you have no idea what that means to me.” Coach finally lifted his head and looked into Harley’s eyes.
His own were bloodshot and his cheeks still held the evidence of his grief, but he didn’t waver when he spoke to her from his heart. “I’ll always protect you, Harley. From mean girls, birds flying through the sky, or whatever might come after you. But it does my heart and head good to know that you don’t need me to protect you. I don’t think I could handle it if you relied on me for everything. As much as I give you shit about it, it makes me proud that you don’t want me to open your car door for you. That you can take care of yourself. I’d rather die than have you hurt because I failed, Harley.”
“Oh, Coach. You won’t fail me. I’m strong, and too old to worry about what others are saying about me. Screw them. I’m successful, I love what I do for a living, I have great siblings, and while I’m sad that my parents didn’t get to see all the cool things I’ve done, I’m okay with everything that has happened in my life.” She took a breath and continued.
“It took me a long time to figure this out, but everything happens for a reason. Everything. Ultimately, I believe to the marrow of my bones that I would never have met you if my parents hadn’t died in that accident. There doesn’t seem to be a connection on the surface, but every decision I made after that time, led me here. My schooling, my job, even my decision to be at that skydiving club the same time you were substituting for your friend came about because of the death of my parents. I know some people think that’s a weird way to look at life, but in my heart, I know they led me to you. Coach, the only person I care about pleasing is you. If your friends decided to hate me tomorrow, I wouldn’t care, as long as I have you.”
A smile crept across Coach’s face at her words. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. Annie is already calling you Aunt Harley. Rayne and Mary have threatened to cut off my balls if I don’t let you up for air and let them take you out on the town. And I punched Hollywood the other day because he looked a bit too long at your tits when you leaned over to hug Annie and the V-neck of your shirt dipped. You don’t have to worry about my friends liking you.”
Moving for the first time since he crawled into bed, Coach suddenly turned onto his back, bringing Harley with him, pulling her over until she was lying on top of him from chest to crotch. He moved his legs apart, and Harley’s own legs fell between them, bringing them closer than they were before.
She felt his hands at her lower back, pushing her into him. Harley felt his cock harden against her, but his words froze her in place.
“You don’t think less of me?”
Harley knew exactly what he was talking about, and brought her fingertips up to his face and wiped away the last traces of his drying tears. “Absolutely not. I’d be even more concerned if you didn’t cry.”
He didn’t comment, but Harley saw some of the tense lines around his lips relax. He’d been genuinely worried that she’d see him in a different light because he’d cried while talking about his sister. She leaned down and kissed both cheeks gently, trying to reassure him that nothing had changed about her feelings for him.
“I love you, Harley. I was a dick and told some bitch-face teenagers before I told you. I’m sorry. But know this—not a day will go by from here on out when you won’t hear those words from me. The only time you might not is if I’m overseas on a mission, but I promise to make up for those times when I’m home.
“I love the fact you can get so engrossed in your work that you don’t hear me come up behind you, but that also scares the shit out of me, because if I can sneak up on you, then so can someone else. I love the fact you don’t wear makeup. I don’t have to worry about sneaking a kiss and getting lipstick all over me, and I can carry you into the house and have my way with you without you having to jump out of bed to take that shit off your face so you don’t break out. I love your clothes. You dress for comfort, and since most of the time that means no bra and pants with elastic waists, its easy access for me.”
“Perv.” Harley smiled at him, happy he seemed to be getting back to his old self.
“Yup,” he agreed easily, obviously not offended in the least. “But most of all, I love you because of what’s up here.” Coach tapped her temple with a finger, then brought it down and traced her eyebrows. “You’re smart, funny, compassionate, and somehow you were thrown into my path. I learned from Ghost. He was an idiot and let Rayne go, and it was only by the grace of God that they got a second chance. I wasn’t about to let you go once I found you.”
“I love you too, Coach.”
They looked at each other for a moment, then Coach asked in a quiet voice, “Would you mind calling me Johnny sometimes? It’s just that…now that I’ve talked about Jenny, it seems right, you knowing about her and using my real name like she did.”
Harley could feel her chin wobbling, and the damn tears she’d managed to finally beat back minutes before returned. She loved this man so much, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him. “I love you, Johnny. You’re the man I never knew I wanted or needed. I saw your looks, and didn’t bother to see past them to the man underneath. I figured you’d be shallow and would only see a big nerd standing in front of you. But I swear, you had better say something right now that will make me laugh.
I’m so sick of crying.”
Coach chuckled and kissed her on the forehead before drawing her down into his arms. Even though Harley could feel him hard against her, she somehow knew he wouldn’t make love to her. They were too comfortable and he was too…raw…for that right now.
“As long as you’re crying happy tears, I’ll take ’em. It’s the other kind I can’t stand.”
“I know.” Harley sniffed a couple of times, but breathed out a long breath as she got herself under control. “Can I tell Rayne and Emily that joke?”
She felt Coach’s smile against her hair. “As long as you only call me Johnny when we’re alone, you can do whatever the hell you want. If the guys find out my given name, I’ll have to beat you.”
“Deal.” Harley knew he was kidding. As if he’d lay a single hand on her. No way.
“But not around Annie,” Coach further cautioned.
“Of course not. She wouldn’t understand it anyway,” Harley told him in a sleepy voice.
“Don’t underestimate that kid. She’s smarter than any first grader I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe I should start teaching her how to code.”
“Maybe you should,” Coach agreed.
Ten minutes later, Harley shifted to the side of Coach into a more comfortable position for both of them. She kept her hand over his heart and her head on his shoulder, copying the position he’d been in earlier. “Thank you for coming back. I was worried about you.”
“I know. That’s why I returned. I’d sooner rip out my own heart than make you worry unnecessarily about me.”
“You can always take the space and time you need, but please, always come back to me.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Love you, Johnny.
“I love you too, Harley.”
20
Harley groaned as a beeping noise woke her up. She lifted her head and looked at her clock through bleary eyes. “What in the hell is that?”
