There was only one life preserver I wanted to grapple for right now. Reaching for my phone from the nightstand, I scrolled through my contacts to send a text and then hesitated.
All of my life, I’d had two sets of constants in my life: my parents and my two best friends. No matter what was going on, I could count on them to be there for me. Even after Leo and I had broken up in high school and didn’t speak for over a year, I’d had Nate. And when the unthinkable had happened and my father had been killed, Leo had come back to me. They were my support, my people.
Now, my dad and Nate were both dead, my mom was . . . God, running off with the dry cleaner. Leo was the only one I had left, and yet when I thought about calling him, something twisted in my stomach. More than once when we’d been together after Nate’s death, I’d glanced at him, expecting . . . well, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d expected. Some sort of sign, maybe, that he still cared. Of course neither of us could act on anything, not in the midst of saying goodbye to Nate. But I’d waited for him to hold me a little longer, to touch me a little differently—anything that might say we had a chance.
But I couldn’t say that he had. His friendship had been steadfast, but I couldn’t talk myself into believing that I’d felt anything more from him than I had from Zelda, Gia and Tuck.
Still, this was Leo, the boy who’d been my first and only lover, the man who’d begged me not to throw away what we had when football and all the bullshit surrounding it had threatened to tear us apart . . . Leo, who’d asked me not to marry Nate. Who’d all but proposed to me the day of Matt’s funeral, even when he knew I was already engaged to Nate. We hadn’t seen each other much since that day—and when we had, things between us had been volatile—but I couldn’t believe that what was between us had changed over the last few months.
It was that strange mix of doubt and stubborn belief that made me close my contacts list and instead open a browser to pull up the train schedule.
I’d taken the train back and forth pretty often while Leo was at Carolina. It was cheaper than flying, and the station was more convenient than the airport, on both ends. Plus, the ride down gave me time to do homework and catch up on reading, freeing me up for fun while I was with Leo. I was familiar with both the routine of the rails and the route south.
Still, when I swung off the train in Richmond on that Thursday night, I was more than a little nervous . . . not just because I’d never been to this city. I’d taken a big gamble coming down here, and riding on the train, I’d had six hours to consider all the ways it could go wrong.
For instance, what if Leo was with someone? I hadn’t exactly asked him if he was involved with a woman now. When I’d run into him at the grocery store last July, it had shocked me to see him with Sarah Jenkins, but I hadn’t heard anything more about her since then. And Leo had assured me that they were just friends. Of course, that had been back in July. Surely if something were going on, though, her name would’ve come up. She probably would’ve accompanied Leo to the funeral, if she were in fact his girlfriend.
But even if Sarah wasn’t in the picture, I’d heard stories about professional football players, and I knew all too well the buzz around Leo in particular. There were bound to be women swarming him. What if I rang his doorbell and found him in bed with some football groupie? I couldn’t very well pretend I’d just been in the neighborhood and stopped by. There would be no graceful way to exit a situation like that.
Assuming that there wasn’t a girl in Leo’s life at the moment, it still wouldn’t mean he wanted me. I tried to imagine what his world was like now, living here in this strange city, in his own home, part of a team . . . making friends and being an adult, for real. Even though I’d been married, I’d never gotten over the sense that I’d only been playing at maturity, pretending to be a grown-up.
With a confidence I was far from feeling, I made myself walk through the station to the front curb, where a few taxis were waiting. When one driver waved to me, I stepped closer.
“I need to get to Henrico County. To . . .um, it’s Graydin Drive.”
The man smiled. He was older, with short gray hair and a leathery-skinned face. “Sure. I can get you there. Need me to take that bag?” He pointed to the small duffel I’d slung over my shoulder.
I shook my head. “Thanks, I’ve got it.”
He opened the door for me, and I slid in the backseat. The car smelled faintly of old cigarette smoke and a hundred different aftershaves and perfumes, making me aware of how out of my element I was. I could count on one hand the number of cabs I’d ever taken; this was a new experience.
The driver slammed his door and hit the meter as he pulled away. Glancing at me in the rearview mirror, he smiled. “You been to Richmond before?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Does it show? Do I look like a tourist?”
“Nah,” he laughed. “You look like the college kids I usually pick up on Sunday nights and tote back to campus. But you said you needed to get to Henrico County.” He pronounced the word the way I had, Hen-REE-co. “It’s actually Hen-RYE-co. Just a little thing, but a local would know.”
“Oh.” I’d only known the name from one of Leo’s texts, sent last summer to Gia and me, with his new address and a short description of where he was living. “Is it far from Richmond?”
“Nope. It’s just a suburb of the city itself. Over on the West End, not too far from the University. Won’t take long to get there.”
I gazed out the window into the dark, watching the lights pass. “It’s pretty. Richmond is, I mean.”
He grinned. “Can’t see much in the dark from a speeding car, but yeah. Come spring time, it’ll be much prettier. But I love it here. I was born downtown, and I’ve lived here all my life. Wouldn’t change it for anything.” He stopped at a red light and met my eyes in the mirror again. “So are you here for a visit, or for work?”
“I’m . . . surprising a friend. He doesn’t expect me.” I wasn’t sure why the words came tumbling out, but they did. “I hope it’s a good surprise.”
“Aw, honey, why wouldn’t it be?” The light turned green, and the taxi jumped forward. “Did you have a spat? Are you coming down to patch things up?”
“No. I mean . . . not really. I guess I’m coming down to see where we stand now.” I stared straight ahead, into the night. “We’ve been friends forever. Then . . . more. But the last few years have been difficult, and things kind of pulled us apart. I need to know if we still have a future.”
“If you cared enough to haul your cookies all the way from . . . where did you come from?”
I smiled. “New Jersey.”
“From New Jersey, then you still got a future.” He paused. “Unless this guy’s married or something. Or if he’s not a good guy.”
“He’s a very good guy. The best.” I believed that with all of my heart. “I know he loves me. It’s just that circumstances have made it hard for us to stay together. His career . . .” I didn’t want to say too much; I figured here in Richmond, Leo’s name might be familiar, at least to Rebels fans. “He’s trying to do what’s best for me, but his job is very demanding, and I have a problem with that, I guess.”
“Is that all?” The cabby waved his hand. “That’s nothing, Listen, honey, the wife and I’ve been together since we were fifteen. Fifteen, can you imagine?”
I smiled and nodded. Oh, yeah, I could imagine. I’d loved Leo longer than that.
“And we just celebrated forty years married. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t always appreciate her, or what we had, but we stuck it out. Four kids, three grandkids and we’ve never been happier.”
“That’s wonderful.” I twisted the strap of my bag around my thumb. “I’m not sure we’re going to get that same kind of happy ending. Once, I’d hoped . . . but now, after everything that’s happened, I’m not so sure.”
“Keep the faith, honey. Don’t give up.” He turned a corner and slowed as we approached a guard’s booth in front of
a large gate. “Hey, your fellow does all right for himself, huh?” He twisted in his seat, raising his eyebrows. “Is he . . . is this guy older, honey?”
My face went hot. “No. It’s not like that . . .” I trailed off as a guard, holding a clipboard against his hip, leaned toward the car and the driver lowered the window.
“Good evening. How can I help you?”
I scooted forward and peered up into the uniformed man’s face. “I’m here to visit a friend. The address is 2215 Graydin.” I dug into my purse. “Do you need my ID?”
The guard frowned at me. “Are you expected?”
“Ahhhh . . .” Shit. “No. I was, um, trying to surprise him.”
“Uh huh.” He rested one hand on the top of the car. “Well, ma’am, I’m sorry, but we have a very strict policy about admitting visitors who haven’t been invited by a resident. We have a list of names of expected guests, and if your name isn’t on it, I’m afraid I can’t let you in.” He studied me in the dim light coming from the booth. “Of course, I can always call the resident and see if he—uh, or she—is okay with you coming in.”
I dropped my forehead onto my hand. I’d come all the way here and never even considered this. The entire train trip down, I’d been picturing the expression on Leo’s face when he opened his front door and saw me there. Now, instead, he’d find out when this stranger called to say some crazy girl was at the gate.
But what choice did I have? I wasn’t going to turn around now and go home. The cab driver was looking at me expectantly.
Sighing, I handed the guard my driver’s license. “Okay. Please call him.”
“Certainly.” He took my ID and tucked it into the clipboard. “Can you tell me the address again?”
I recited the number and street as he noted it down.
“And the name of the resident?”
I avoided the cabbie’s interested gaze. “Leo Taylor.”
“I’m sorry?” The guard leaned further into the window.
Clearing my throat, I spoke louder. “Leo Taylor.”
“Oh.” He scribbled something else onto the form and took a step back. “Okay, just let me give Mr. Taylor a call. I’ll be right with you.”
The cab driver swiveled in his seat again, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair. “Leo Taylor is your guy? Leo the Lion?”
I gave him a weak smile. “Well . . . yeah. I mean, that’s who I’m coming to see. We grew up together.”
“Huh.” He wagged his head. “I was a fan when he played for Carolina, and I saw him play this year. Kid’s got game.”
“Ms. Russell?” The guard was back, handing me my driver’s license. “Mr. Taylor said to send you right on back. Sorry about the delay, ma’am.” He looked at the cabbie. “You’re going to go straight, then make your second left. That address is in the first block, on the right hand side. Have a pleasant evening.”
Stepping back, he reached into the booth, and the gate went up. As we drove forward, I felt as though my heart was pounding in my throat. I was so close now . . . and what was Leo thinking? Would he be annoyed that I’d come down without letting him know first, or would he be excited to see me? I was almost afraid to find out.
The taxi rolled to a stop in front of a grouping of three different townhouses. Each porch shone with a soft light, and the minute the cab driver stepped out of the car, the front door of the center house opened. I knew it was Leo the minute he jogged down the steps, even though I couldn’t see his face.
He wore sweat pants that hung low on his hips, a T-shirt that stretched tight over his broad shoulders and thick wool socks. I knew it was freezing cold outside, and I shivered in empathy before I even pushed open my door.
Leo didn’t look at me, not at first. He smiled at the driver, extending his hand. “Hey, there. What do I owe you?”
I struggled to climb out of the backseat, yanking my bag with me. “Leo, I’ve got it. You don’t have to pay my cab fare.”
As though I hadn’t spoken, the driver answered him. “Uh, it’s twenty-four sixty, but hey, you’re Leo Taylor. You don’t have to—I mean, shit. It’s such an honor to meet you. You play some damn good ball.”
Leo smiled as he flipped through some bills in his hand. “Nah, you drove all the way out here. Thanks.” He pressed the money into the cabbie’s hand. “And thanks for the kind words. It’s always so cool to meet Rebels fans.”
“Yeah.” The driver seemed to remember me all of a sudden, standing against the car, shivering. “Oh, uh, your girl here, she’s a peach. Listen, she came all the way down to surprise you. So you treat her good, huh?”
“It’s what I always try to do.” Leo shook the cabbie’s hand. “I better get her inside before she freezes. Thanks again, man.”
“No, thank you.” The driver climbed back into the front seat. “You folks have a good night, you hear?”
I mumbled a good night and thank you, and the car rolled away from us.
Finally, Leo turned to me, his face unreadable in the dark. “Do you have a bag?”
I patted my duffel. “Just this. I got it.”
Without answering me, Leo reached around me and lifted the bag from my shoulder. His hand slid down to the middle of my back, pressing me gently forward. I had no choice but to walk ahead of him up the walkway to his front porch. When we reached the door, he leaned down to turn the knob, opening it for me.
My first impression of the front hallway was warmth, and it was more than just the toasty temperature. The decorating was subtle and tasteful, with a narrow table skillfully designed to look rustic, although I was willing to bet it was new. A simple lamp glowed softly, and the wide-planked hardwood floor gleamed.
“Come on in.” Leo shut the door behind us and guided me through a doorway into a cozy family room. A long sofa ran down the opposite wall; it was flanked by two overstuffed chairs, and in the middle was a wide, low oak coffee table. A single glass of red wine sat there—on a coaster, which made me bite back a smile, knowing that it must’ve been Lisa’s influence. On the sofa, a hardback book was turned upside down.
But by far the most overwhelming element in the room was the huge fireplace that dominated the far wall and in which a fire burned, the heat emanating from it so great that I could feel it even where I stood.
Leo dropped my duffel bag behind a chair and straightened slowly. “So . . . Mia. This is a surprise. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming down? Is everything okay?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I mean . . . mostly. I’m all right. I just needed to get away. To get out of the house. I had to just—go, and the first place I thought of coming was here, to you.” I gazed at him through my eyelashes, trying to gauge what he was thinking. I was painfully aware that he hadn’t made any move to hug me, as he always did. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text first. I made the plans, and the next thing I knew, I was on the train. I thought I would surprise you.” Jamming my fingers into the back pockets of my jeans, I hunched my shoulders. “I guess I did.”
“Yeah, kind of.” Leo smiled a little. “But it’s a good surprise.”
“Did I interrupt your plans?” I tried not to glance at his book and wine.
He chuckled. “Sure, big plans.” Pointing to the book, he shrugged. “My dad gave me a biography of Robert E. Lee for Christmas. You know Dad; he figures since I’m living in Virginia, I need to read up on her most famous sons. Anyway, I had a pretty brutal workout this afternoon, so I just ordered in Chinese food, had a shower and was settling down to read when the guard called.”
I cocked my head. “I thought you were still on break from practice and conditioning.”
Leo shrugged. “I am. This was a different kind of conditioning. I work with an after-school program twice a week, running drills and basically having fun. Nothing big or fancy, but it keeps me busy.” He looked toward the fire. “Turns out, I’m not used to having this much free time, and I was getting bored. So my buddy Corey hooked me up with these kids
. He’s been part of the program since he started with the Rebels, and he thought it’d be a good fit for me, too.”
I couldn’t hide my sigh. “Leo Taylor, just when the world thinks you can’t get any more perfect . . . now you’re helping out kids in your free time.”
A flush spread over his face and down his neck, making me want to see just how far it went. “I’m far from perfect, Mia. Of all people, you’d know that.”
I ventured one step forward. “I don’t know. You seem pretty damn close to perfection to me.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds, with only the soft hum of the fire filling the air between us. Everything that we hadn’t said to each other, and everything that we had said, hung there, rooting me to the floor.
“Do you want something to drink?” Leo broke the spell, moving until he stood a few feet away from me, hands on his hips. His eyes were almost wary, as though I were a panther he feared might pounce at any time.
I glanced at the wide oak coffee table, where his wine glass sat. “I wouldn’t say no to a glass of whatever you’re having. Is that Pinot?”
Leo smiled ruefully. “Yeah, it is. I’ll get a glass.” He turned and disappeared into the kitchen. I trailed behind, lingering in the doorway, watching him.
“Hey, listen, don’t let it get around that you found me sitting alone with a book and a glass of red wine, okay?” He grinned at me over his shoulder, winking.
“Not the image a big, tough football player wants to project?” I leaned on the arched wall.
“Not quite.” He pulled off the glass stopper and tipped the bottle over a wide goblet.
“Let’s see. I guess most fans expect you to be chugging back the beers, watching ESPN twenty-four/seven, with a couple of hot chicks all over you?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re on target.” Sliding the bottle of wine back into its spot in the wine cabinet, he approached me, holding out the glass. “Let’s go sit down.”
I followed him toward the sofa but sank into a chair across the coffee table. I had an odd sense that if I chose to sit on the couch with him, it might make him . . . uncomfortable.
Days of You and Me Page 14
