A weight lifted off Willeen’s shoulders as she took the coffee from the smiling blonde. “Our flights were this close?”
“Yep, I got off, picked up my luggage and hit the Starbucks. What’s your baggage claim number?”
“I’m good,” Willeen said as she shifted her backpack from being on one shoulder to two.
“That’s all you brought?”
“It’s one day.”
“But you need options, don’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Oh girl, I’m not a GOG, but I still go out,” Rachel said as they walked toward a man with a white board tucked under his arm. It said Rachel Bishop. As long as it didn’t say her name, Willeen would have to be comfortable with it. “We’ll get you there. Now we’re supposed to take you to the player’s hotel. Their plane hasn’t landed I think, so we’ll stop by ours. It’s just across the street or something. Then my driver is picking up Dalton for you. I heard you guys have a hot date.”
“I’m not sure how hot it is,” Willeen said as she climbed into the back of the town car. “We’re going to his home town.”
“Big time hot date. Meeting the parents? Siblings?”
“I don’t think so. It’s going to be a tight squeeze to get him in before lock down so just his high school field.”
“Still big time. What are you wearing?”
Willeen looked down at her outfit.
“Oh no, the guys will be to their hotel around four that gives us at least an hour. Hopefully there will be a nice gift shop in the hotel.”
On the ride, Rachel pulled out her makeup kit and asked the driver to warn her of any bumpy roads. Applying a darker shadow, she created a smoky eye on Willeen and her options when it came to lipstick made Willie shake her head. Everything from a light pink to deep chocolate. Not all of them could work on Rachel’s pale skin, but still she had them because you never know.
“I’m married to the official face of the team. Although I’m not to be heard in most cases, I am to be seen occasionally and if I’m not ready for it, you know that will be when the cameras find me. I swear if I didn’t love that man more than deep-dish pizza I’d stay home every game, but he wants me there. I’m just glad my parents came up to keep the kids for the weekend. All these years and they are horrible travelers. Our daughter can be the worst.”
“Is Dani coming?” Willeen asked realizing she forgot to ask Dalton.
“No, DeMonte, well she can’t leave him alone for long enough to come and he’s just starting to come to the stadium. Such a hard beginning to that baby’s life,” she said as she tested a lipstick color on the back of her hand and then held them up to Willie’s lips. “Dani has been so amazing and down to earth. I thought all those billionaire babies were stuck up.”
“Billionaire babies?”
“Dani’s dad is William Albright, self-made bizzilionaire or something.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t let the dad fool you. I guess he’s tight on the purse strings and she is making her own. That’s probably why she’s so cool. Pucker sweetie.”
Willie complied and the cool of the lipstick glided across her bottom, then top lip.
“Then you’ve got the GOGS that are out there spending money they don’t have and neither do their player boyfriends if you can call them that.”
“Dani said something about them costing their boyfriends.”
“They are, seriously and some of the players broke up with their girls because they wanted nothing to do with them or the show. It actually says ex-girlfriend of Blah Blah when they put up the graphic for them on the show. Like they are still relevant because at one time they had a football player’s dick inside them. If that were the case, there would be a lot of relevant women in the world. I’m sorry I’m rambling. I’m around kids all day. Maybe I should be a GOG so I could spend my time drinking wine over lunch with the girls.”
“I think you’re better off.”
“You’re right. Any chance you brought a different pair of shoes?” Rachel asked as she examined Willeen’s work boots.
“Running shoes.”
“I’ll make it work. Rugged sexy. Like a L.L. Bean catalog or something.”
“Dalton likes me the way I am.”
“Then he’s going to love you extra beautiful.” Flipping her compact open, she passed it to Willeen and the face staring back had a natural look to it with perfect contouring. Much better than when she did her own makeup for Hector. “Wow, right?”
“Wow is an understatement.”
“Yes,” Rachel pumped her fist. “I hope we have time for hair, but first I’m checking us in and hitting the gift shop.”
Rachel asked the driver to wait for Dalton at his hotel and bring him back to pick up Willeen since they would be arriving soon. A half hour later, Willie stood in front of the hotel as the sun beamed down on her. In the distance were the mountains. With a water bottle in hand, she rocked back in her boots. Her hair whipped around creating fun designs with the loose strands. They had found her a low cut long sleeve t-shirt that put her breasts front and center. More importantly, a puffy vest to keep her warm and a pair of fingerless gloves. She did look like a catalog model and she had enough cash on hand to pay for it. When the black town car drove into the circular driveway, Willeen’s smile widened and she went for the backdoor before the driver could get out.
“I’m sorry, habit.”
“It’s alright madam, just let me from now on.”
“Yes,” she replied as she felt Dalton’s hand wrap around her waist and pull her into the back seat. With a squeal, she fell into the car and landed on his lap. Her hand brushed against his beard and he leaned down capturing her lips while the door was closed behind her. “Miss me?”
“Just a bit,” he replied as his hand rubbed up and down her side with a few firm grabs on the thicker areas. “You okay with me being your seatbelt because I refuse to let you go.”
Much like Willie thought, if Dalton noticed her makeup and hair he wasn’t saying it. All he saw was her and by the time they were rolling into Estes Park, her lips were sore and her body had melded to his. With a tap to her hip, she slid off his lap and he pointed out the businesses that had changed and the ones who hadn’t. The Stanley Hotel where they shot the Shining he promised her he’d bring her back to at some point. When they stopped in the parking lot of the high school he got silent. His hand encircled hers, the driver opened the door letting in the last light of day and a cool breeze from the early evening air.
Dalton hadn’t stepped foot on his high school property since his senior year in college. Before the combine, he worked out with his father instead of his college coach. It felt natural and made him feel more secure.
Willie still held his hand as she stepped out of the car. “Hey tour guide, we’re at the main attraction.”
He let go of her hand. “Can you give me a moment?”
“Sure.” Willie walked away from the car. He could see her making her way to the fencing around the field.
Dalton had sent money back when he saw they were fundraising for a new scoreboard or turf repair. Anything his father needed would have taken a phone call, but those only came from his mother. “You know he’ll never ask you, but the kids are still wearing the same uniforms they did when you were in school.”
Pride cometh before the fall, but his relationship with his father no longer included football. They spoke and summertime holidays were fine, but the moment football came up his father walked away. Until Dalton became the man he raised publically his dad couldn’t respect his game. “I know the man I raised and that is not him.”
Extricating himself from the backseat, he walked up behind Willeen and placed his hand on the small of her back. The sun was setting over the mountain as he led her to where only a latch kept people out of the stadium, if you could call it that. On the home side were five sets of bleachers and a press box. The visitors had two sets. He walked hand in hand with Willeen around the t
rack to where a set of benches flanked the sideline.
“How many state championships have you won?”
“Me personally?” he responded as they both turned to the scoreboard with the years of state championship wins along the side. “Two. My dad…well I think all but two of those are his.”
“So, he didn’t win in nineteen forty-five?”
“Not that I’m aware of. He stopped the big drought.”
“I see that. You must have a lot of NFL players from here.”
“Not really, quite a few played through college, but with each jump you make most players fall off.”
“Like scraping the barnacles off a boat?”
“Yep. Each pass the weakest ones fall off. I wasn’t my dad’s first, but I doubt he’ll have many more.”
“He must be proud of you,” she said as they sat on the wooden bench that was bowed a bit from the years of heavy high schoolers sitting on it. “You’ve been an all star and even won conference championships.”
“Never the World’s, but that wouldn’t make him happy if I did. Nope, his disappointment comes from the same thing I can’t stomach anymore.”
“The monster?”
“Yep.” Dalton ran his hand over his face and felt wetness on his fingertips. “When he saw the first bloody jersey…the look he gave me…my dad forgives many things, but not until I change.” Dalton dropped his voice to mimic his father. “The persona you put out to the world is who they see. This blood thirsty thing is coming from somewhere inside you. That is why I can’t accept it. You’re a football player not an actor. Football players are men. If you want to be a character, go to Broadway.”
Willeen rubbed circles between his shoulder blades. This was the field where he grew up. His first steps were taken in the end zone from his mother to his father. Most lessons he learned came between the white lines.
“I probably spent more time on this field than in my own home growing up.”
“Really?”
“You see the name on the scoreboard? That pissed my dad off when it was dedicated to him, but the man has coached for over thirty years.”
“He probably thought they were trying to retire him.”
“Maybe.”
“Where would you run on the field from?”
Dalton smiled and pointed to the far corner by the visitors stands.
“Show me.”
“Show you?”
“Yep. I want to see the teenage Dalton Gresham run out on the field.”
“But I don’t have a banner or cheerleaders.”
“You have one.”
Willie’s eyes sparkled and he gave her a nod as he took off with a light jog to the far side of the field. When he turned around to run back out, she was standing there with her hands in the air as if she had pom poms. Crouching, he began to rock back and forth with his arms curled as if he had his arms linked with his teammates. With a roar, he burst forward and captured Willie as he ran through his end zone toward the bench again. Funny, he never realized how much that run meant to him until that moment.
“Thank you,” he said as he looked up at her since he had his arms locked around her thighs and she was above resting her arms on his shoulders. Her body glided down his until her toes touched the ground. “You’re the best cheerleader ever.”
“Did you always scoop them up as you went?”
“Nope, we didn’t have the prettiest cheerleaders.”
“Didn’t you?” she teased and gave him a light kiss. “Now show me how to come off the ball like you mean it.”
“Do I get to tackle you?”
“Maybe,” she said with a little waggle of her eyebrows.
“Line it up Fire,” he commanded with a point to the twenty-yard-line. The sun had set and the lights from the parking lot weren’t casting much of a glow. “I want to see what you’ve got.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen everything I have,” she said as she got down in a three-point-stance.
“You can’t fool me woman,” he said as he matched up with her with his left shoulder lining up with her right. “There’s so much about you I want to know.”
“Then you better hope I can’t get your quarterback.” The fire in her eyes had him jumping offside’s to grab her around her waist and walking her back five yards. His arms moved from around her waist to her cheeks until the two had fallen into an embrace he never wanted to stop. “Now I know why they put facemasks on your helmets.”
“Our secret’s out.”
“Sir,” their driver called. “If we are going to get back to your hotel by seven we will need to leave.”
“Alright,” Dalton said as he kept his eyes on Willie. “Thank you for coming with me. And flying out here. I know you were nervous, but it’s all good, right?”
“It’s been great, although I do worry I won’t get to sleep with Rachel around. She talks a lot.”
“The quarterback’s wife a lot of the time gets isolated. Friendships happen, but when your spouse is the one who passes, she has to be careful not to cross lines. I don’t catch the ball so the only conflict comes from me allowing Matty to get hurt.”
“And you don’t do that?”
“Not if I can help it. If I do, her rage registers higher than mine. Trust me, if Matty gets sacked from the left, on the next play the defensive player will pay for my mistake.”
On the ride home Willie curled into his chest and he held her tight. “I love how safe I feel in your arms.”
He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her back onto his lap.
“You’re cutting it close Gresham,” Coach Tricket said as Dalton found his way into the room where the rookies had brought the food each of the veterans ordered. A tradition that sucked when Gresham was a rookie, but it was only one year and having them fetch made his life easier.
“Hometown stuff,” he replied and found his takeout order as he sat down for the linemen’s meeting. Two hours later, Dalton picked up a plate full of food. Three sandwiches, two apples, chips and a banana from the snack table before heading up to his room.
“Hold the elevator,” Myron called and slapped his hand against the elevator door.
Dalton eyed the kid who stood there without so much as a bag of chips. “Yes.”
“Hey Dalton, I’m confused about a few of the plays.” Myron had the folder in his hands with the same face he’d had after Dalton’s first game back. The attitude shifted when Coach Tricket actually gave him reps on the regular team, not the scout one.
“How much have you eaten today?”
“The rookies grabbed me a pizza.”
“Large?”
“Medium, I’m not really hungry.”
“Are you a kicker?” Dalton asked as he stepped off the elevator toward his room. “Last time I checked, you were a lineman. We’re always hungry. We burn thousands of calories a day. If nothing else, you should have a gallon jug of water in your hands at all times. You ever been to Colorado?”
“No, why? You don’t have a gallon?”
“I’ve gone through three since we landed. I have extra in my room.”
“It’s that bad?”
“You got a headache?”
“A little—”
“Go back downstairs. Grab water and fruit. I’m in six fourteen.”
“Thanks Dalton,” My said and took off back to the elevators.
Dmitri hadn’t gotten upstairs yet and Dalton used the time to turn on his phone and reach out to his parents.
“Hey mom,” he said when she answered.
“Dalton, we can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Is there a chance we’ll get to talk to you after the game?”
“I’ll make a way.” Dalton reached for his gallon jug in the mini fridge as he sat back on the bed. “When you say we, any chance you aren’t talking about Celeste?”
“You know your sister loves you.”
“I know and she’s seen me play a dozen times. I just wish…” Dalton closed his eyes.
“I’m going to try,” his mother assured. “You know how stubborn your father can be.”
“I went to the field today. It looks nice.”
“You should see it when the scoreboard is lit up,” she replied. “If nothing else, it’s fun to see your dad’s scowl when they flip it on.”
“Too much hullabaloo huh?”
“You know him well. You two are mirror images.”
“Cold and icy in between.”
“It doesn’t need to be that way,” she said.
“I was scared to be myself,” Dalton confessed. “If I did what would I lose? Who would trust me?”
“You were yourself for twenty-four years and it served you well.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Earlier this year I was put on the board of a children’s charity.”
“You? The crazy grizzly that everyone’s afraid of?”
“Yep, cut my hair, trimmed down my beard. I almost look like a man again.”
“Not a hippie?” his mother laughed at his father’s constant ragging on the boys if their hair grew out even an inch.
“Mom, I want him there,” Dalton pleaded. “I’ll find a way to get on-field passes if that’s what it takes.”
“Tell me what happened a month ago,” his father’s voice boomed through the phone. “Was that something I taught you?”
“That was,” Dalton’s harsh tone cut through the line. He knew better than to use a tone with his father. “Cheap shots are made by cheap players. Immediate punishment leads to instant understanding of your error.”
“Then it’s my fault.”
“What is?” Dalton asked.
“The fact I wasn’t there to see this stupid bloody jersey thing to knock sense into you the moment it was floated out there.”
Second and Short Page 11
