Line of Scrimmage

by Desiree Holt

  “He’s as tight as a high wire,” she told Ivy one evening on the phone. “He’s got so much anger and pressure building up inside him I’m afraid he’ll explode and self destruct.”

  “I can imagine. This is a huge deal for him.”

  “Can you tell me why he’s so insistent that if he can’t play, his whole life will change?” She bit her lip. “Other players get hurt and have to retire and they move on to other things.” She nibbled a fingernail. “I know this will shock you, but you were right. Jake really is one of the good ones. He’s not a horndog or any of the stuff I thought all football players were. So why—”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Ivy interrupted. “If nothing else comes out of this, at least you’ve come to realize that.”

  “Nothing else?” Erin frowned. “What else did you have in mind? What was going on in that devious little mind of yours?”

  “Just trying to get my two favorite people to like each other,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Oh, right. Uh-huh. And you still didn’t answer my question. What is it that drives him like this?”

  There was a long pause, silence humming across the connection.

  “I think Jake needs to explain that to you himself,” Ivy said at last.

  “But he won’t tell me.” She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “How can I help him if I don’t know what I’m up against?”

  Another pause.

  “Let’s get through the doctor’s visit and the x-rays first. Then we’ll take it one step at a time. If he self-destructs, I will help you with this.”

  “Why do we have to wait for disaster?” she demanded. “Does that even make sense?”

  “Please trust me on this,” Ivy pleaded. “If his leg is good to go, all this will go away.”

  But Erin wasn’t all that convinced.

  Even when they made love he seemed to be in a distant place. It broke Erin’s heart to think the wrong verdict might destroy his life. Could she find something to give him hope for the future?

  * * * *

  The day of the appointment, he was up early. Although Erin had slept with him most nights, sometimes she knew when to give him space, and last night had been one of those times. He’d tossed and turned all night and finally ended up sprawled on the bed, covers in disarray. Still, even before he buzzed the intercom, she had fixed two mugs of coffee and carried them into the room. It was obvious her night hadn’t been any more restful than his.

  “Hot java for you.” She seemed to be trying to put as much cheer in her voice as possible.

  “I think I might need a shot of bourbon in it,” he told her. “Just to get through this.”

  She set both mugs on the nightstand and sat beside him on the bed.

  “How about this? If you are a very good boy and behave yourself, tonight I will have a real treat for you.”

  “Yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow. “What kind of treat?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out. So do you promise to behave?”

  “We’ll see.”

  She wrapped his leg so he could shower, then left him alone to shave and brush his teeth. When he crutched his way back into the bedroom, she had clothes laid out for him on the bed, black cargo shorts and a blue sports shirt. No slacks until the cast came off, hopefully today.

  “Is this okay?” For the first time in days, she looked nervous.

  “Yeah. Fine. It’s good.” His lack of enthusiasm was more than evident.

  He looked at the clothes set out for him. “You gonna help me dress?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  He could do the shirt okay, but anything below the waist was still a problem for him. Anyway, he liked the thought of her touching his body, even if that might not last much longer.

  He tried to control the tension vibrating through him, but it was impossible. Today was too important. Whatever happened in the next couple of hours would determine what happened to the rest of his life. It had been a long time since he’d felt such total despair, already anticipating bad news.

  He wanted to put his arms around Erin and hold her tight to his body. Tell her how he really felt. Know that she would be there for him.

  And wasn’t that a damn fantasy.

  Because it all came down to the fucking leg. He’d just been fooling himself these past weeks, thinking he and Erin could have something together. If he was out of the game for good, he would be nothing. Nobody. Worthless, just as he’d had drummed into him all those years ago. His sense of self-worth would be gone, and he would have nothing to give to a relationship.

  He crutched outside to the driveway where he waited while she backed the SUV out of the garage. While she hurried back inside to set the alarm on the inside door, he climbed clumsily into the vehicle. As they drove through the gate and turned onto the street, his stomach knotted in unpleasant anticipation of what lay ahead.

  Neither of them spoke a word on the drive to the office building. They’d had silences before, most of them comfortable, but not this one. Today his nerves were all over the place and his desperation filled the vehicle like a living thing. So many years he’d worked to become someone, to gain respect. To be viewed as a person with value. It made him sick to realize yet again that in a few hours it could all be gone, and with it any chance with Erin. Who would want a worthless has been?

  The silence grew when they pulled into the underground parking garage and on the ride up in the elevator. When they walked into Dr. Moline’s waiting room, Scott was waiting for them and Jake clenched his fists. For Erin’s sake he wouldn’t make a scene. Instead he just nodded at Scott, tightlipped, and found a chair to sit in. Erin and Scott found seats in the corner, respecting his silent request for separation. He stretched out his bad leg in front of him, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

  The memory of his early years in Granite Falls swept over him. He and Ivy had moved with their mother when he was fourteen and Ivy was nine. Life had taken a big jump forward when that happened. Their mother got a good job working at one of the banks, and they became part of the community. Then he tried out for the high school football team and Coach Fenelli became a huge influence in his life. He’d busted his balls to excel for that man.

  A small school like Granite Falls High wasn’t a recruiting target for the major colleges. The Big Five, so to speak. But Ray Fenelli was a man apart from a lot of other coaches. He’d made a video of each of the players on that state championship team and sent them out to dozens of universities. Jake still remembered the explosion of excitement when scouts saw those disks. They’d gone nuts. Every starter on that team had been heavily recruited and was offered at least three scholarships.

  Jake looked across at Scott through slitted eyelids. The man had come to see him the summer before his final college season. The NCAA didn’t allow contact before then. Although other agents approached him, he’d connected with Scott right away. They’d had a good ride together, but Jake just knew it was all ending today.

  “Jacob Russell?”

  He levered himself out of the chair and onto his crutches. He was sick with trepidation as he followed the woman who had called for him to an examination room. He knew Erin and Scott were right behind him, but he tried to blank them from his mind. He really wished to hell they’d stayed in the waiting room. He didn’t need them to be there for the final nail in his coffin.

  They were no sooner settled when a man in scrubs came to fetch Jake for his x-rays. Erin started to say something to him, but he just scowled at her as he clumped out of the room. Again, he tried to blank his mind as they x-rayed the leg, hoping for the best, expecting the worst. But when he was back in the examining room, lowering himself into a chair, he couldn’t help praying just a little bit. If the x-rays showed complete recovery, the cast would come off today and he could begin his rehab.

  He avoided looking at or talking to Scott and Erin, who seemed to be taking their cues fr
om him. Once, Scott opened his mouth to say something, but Jake glared at him so he just shook his head. The tension in the room was thicker than pea soup by the time Dr. Moline entered, patient file in his hand. He shook hands with everyone and asked Jake how he was feeling.

  “You tell me.” Jake was in no mood for small talk. “I think that depends on what you have to say about the x-rays.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about that, shall we?” He sat down in front of a computer screen, danced his fingers over the keyboard, and in seconds four x-rays appeared. Using his pen, he pointed to the images. “Jake, I know you’re aware how complicated the break was. As I explained in the hospital, it’s what we call a comminuted fracture. That’s where the bone is broken in several places. Here, here, and here.” Moline indicated them as he spoke. “We had to use rods and screws to stabilize the leg.”

  Jake clenched his hands into fists. He just wished the doctor would get to the results. He didn’t need all the details if the axe was about to fall. The apprehension was already making him nauseous.

  “The good news,” the doctor went on, “is I’m pleased with the healing process, enough that the cast can come off today. We’ll fit you with a soft boot, a hard plastic shell that immobilizes, protects, and supports the lower leg. You can toss the crutches and I’m going to write orders for your physical therapy. We have to start strengthening those muscles again.”

  “And?” Jake prompted.

  “In a perfect world I’d tell you the leg is good as new and that after therapy you can get right back on the field.”

  “But this isn’t a perfect world, right, Doc?” Sweat trickled down his spine. He could already hear the death knell sounding for his career and for Jake Russell.

  “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry, Jake. The breaks were just too complex. I hate having to tell you, but I can’t clear you to play again. Even if you had the ability, one more injury and you could lose that leg.”

  “So what you’re saying is, I’m done.”

  He sat there, staring at the x-rays as if he could somehow make them change. He felt dizzy and disoriented, knocked off balance. When an assistant came to take him to the casting room, he pushed himself up, grabbed his crutches, and wordlessly followed the man out the door.

  He stoically endured the removal of the cast, thankful that the tech was not a talkative person. Or maybe he got the silent signal from Jake that he should just shut up. He barely absorbed what the guy was saying about adjusting to the absence of the cast and caring for the leg, now exposed to light.

  As the tech was finishing with him, the nurse popped in with a sheet of instructions for him.

  “In addition to the therapy,” she said, “you’ll need to be sure to massage that leg every day to stimulate the circulation. Or have someone do it for you.”

  “Just give it to one of my babysitters,” he griped. “Can I get out of here now?”

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll get your friends, and they can meet you by the back door.”

  Thank God for that, he thought. At least she’d gotten the hint he didn’t want to parade before a roomful of patients. When the tech was finished fitting him with the soft boot, he made Jake walk a few steps for him, so he could see how he managed.

  “Better than I expected,” he told Jake. “You can pass those crutches on to somebody else.”

  “You can burn the damn things for all I care,” Jake snarled.

  He made his limping way to the rear entrance of the offices. Erin and Scott were already there, waiting for him.

  “Not a word. Not. One. Word.” Each word sounded as if it was an effort for him to speak.

  They made slow progress to the elevator, Jake walking awkwardly as he adjusted to the absence of the cast and the new appliance. He refused to let anyone help him, so by the time they rode downstairs to the garage and Erin got him to the car, he was covered with sweat.

  When they reached the garage level, Scott turned to Erin. “Give us a minute, will you?”

  She looked from him to Jake and back again. “Of course.”

  “We don’t need a minute,” Jake said at the same time. “Not even a second.”

  “Well, we’re going to get it whether you want it or not,” Scott snapped. “Listen Jake. We’ve been together a long time and had great success. Do I wish this hadn’t happened? Certainly. But life as Jake Russell is not over yet.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Jake practically bit off the words. Okay, maybe he was being rude, but he didn’t feel like being polite right now. Maybe never again. He just wished the man would shut the fuck up and go away so he could crawl into a corner and shut out the world.

  “You have a life beyond the playing field,” Scott said, “if you aren’t too dumb to realize it. And you are so lucky to have Erin supporting you through this.” He paused. “You know she’s in love with you, right?”

  Jake snorted. “Her bad luck.”

  “To the contrary. I think she sees it as good luck. You’re the one who is lucky, and you need to stop and appreciate it. Don’t kick her to the curb, which is what I figure you’re planning to do.”

  “She needs someone who is worth something. That’s not me. Leave it alone, Scott.”

  “You think you have nothing to give her anymore? You’re dead wrong. You have a lot to give. Everything, as a matter of fact. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to get your shit together, and then we’re going to put together a new plan for your future. And you can plan on Erin being part of it.”

  Didn’t the man realize he didn’t have any fucking future? Without football he was just that kid who’d been told over and over he was worthless. Useless. Less than garbage.

  He turned his back on the agent and climbed somewhat clumsily into the SUV.

  Scott walked around to the driver’s side and tapped on the window for Erin to roll it down. He handed her a business card.

  “I know Jake has all my info,” he told her, “but there are two cell numbers on the back. If the first doesn’t answer, you can always get me at the second one. It’s my emergency cell. I never turn it off.”

  “Thank you, Scott. I’ll call you later.”

  “Do that. You can give me a status report.”

  Oh, great. They were going to discuss him to death. He waited for her to make some kind of comment, but she just concentrated on her driving.

  “When we get back to my house,” he told her, “you can pack your stuff.”

  “Are you throwing me out?” He heard the surprise in her voice.

  “Whatever you want to call it. There’s just no need for you anymore. You have a life to get back to, remember?”

  “What if I changed my mind?” she asked. “What if I want to stick around?”

  “For what?” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat, wishing this would turn out to be nothing more than a bad nightmare. “There’s no Jake Russell any more, Erin. Go find yourself a whole man who’s worth something. That’s not me.”

  Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Maybe I think it is. Maybe—” She flipped her hand in the air. “I’m not a quitter, Jake, whatever the situation. You have to have figured that out by now, since I didn’t run screaming from your house. Not even on your worse days. That means I stick around for the bad as well as the good.”

  “There’s plenty of bad to go around here.” Anguish surged through him.

  “But there’s also plenty of good,” she insisted. “I know the future looks pretty miserable right now, but—”

  “Miserable?” He went rigid with hostility. “You can’t begin to know what miserable is.”

  She tried to help him when he had some difficulty getting out of the SUV, but he brushed her aside.

  “Leave me alone.” He was weak and sweating and nauseous, and it wasn’t all from discomfort. “I don’t want your help. I’ll manage. Somehow. Go away.”

  He ignored the flash of hurt on her face. Better for her to fee
l it now than later. How fucking long would it take for her to realize he was back to being worse than nothing?

  Using the walls as support, he walked slowly and with difficulty down the hall to his bedroom. Thank God, she didn’t try to help him again. When he got to his bedroom, he limped inside and slammed the door in Erin’s face. Then he threw himself on the bed, and for the first time in years had an uncontrollable urge to cry.

  * * * *

  Erin tried to follow him into the bedroom, figuring she could at least help him get comfortable. Or maybe even just be there for him. If he wanted to yell, she’d let him yell at her. But getting the door slammed in her face was a message she heard loud and clear.

  Letting out a breath, she headed into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. She sat at the kitchen table with it for a long time, trying to figure out what to do.

  She knew she should call Ivy. Jake had forbidden his sister from coming to the doctor, but the woman would be on pins and needles waiting for the final prognosis. Maybe Ivy could tell her what on earth had happened to Jake that he thought without football he was nothing and nobody. That wasn’t just his ego talking. She’d heard real pain in his voice and seen it on his face.

  She also had to make plans for herself. It would be impossible for her to stay here, yet she also knew there was no way she could leave. Waiting for Jake to get his cast off, she had tried to get the answer from Scott, only he was as clueless as she was. But he’d said one thing she couldn’t get out of her head.

  “Whatever happened in your life to make you hate football players so much you need to forget it, because Jake is a totally different breed of animal. He’s smart and decent. Pay attention to that, Erin. You know he’s in love with you, right?”

  In love with her?

  Before all this, she would never have believed that possible. Or that she would feel the same way about him. Now everything she had believed about football players was in the wind and her opinion of him had done a one-eighty. Apparently she had been stupid enough to let one immature man and a few assholes color her opinion of an entire profession. So if he was in love with her and she felt the same way, where did they go from here?