Love Letter for a Sinner (The Sinners sports romances)

by Lynn Shurr

  ****

  Christmas approached garlanding the French Quarter in red and green in spite of the mild warmth of the days and setting the oaks in City Park alight with thousands of tiny white lights at night. Tricia and Rex went to see the display and discussed the usual quandary couples faced—where to spend the holidays. He had one more regular season game, then the playoffs.

  Finishing at the top of their division, the Sinners gained the advantage of playing in the Dome for the first of the contests to go to the Super Bowl. If they made it through that gauntlet of great teams, their home city had the contract for the big event. The team couldn’t ask for a better chance. Joe Dean, full of fire he hadn’t shown in the last couple of years, aimed to win that trophy. Rex got little playing time, but enough to keep him on his toes, just in case, as Joe said.

  Holding hands, the couple strolled by the oaks on a balmy winter night. No fear of getting mugged when a girl walked with a guy as big as Rex, but she’d had the good sense to leave her engagement ring at the apartment locked away from Layla’s wrath. Gradually, Tricia learned the ways of New Orleans and grew to love the place.

  “I talked Layla into going home to Iowa now that she’s back to her fighting weight again. She trash talks to me more than Mike Tyson before he bit Holyfield’s ear in that boxing match. I could use a break.”

  “Why do you stay?” Rex put a protective arm around her slender shoulders at if the evening grew chilly or bad people lurked in the shadows.

  “I gave my word. You know how that goes.”

  “I do. You could come home with me. My mom stuffs the turkey with her special cornbread. My dad and sister are happy for us. Mom says she’s resigned. Best we can do for now.”

  At the remembrance of the cornbread and Rex’s mother, Tricia did shiver a little. They hadn’t had an encounter since she walked out on Mrs. Worthy’s brisket and the engagement made the front page of the tabloids with a rather sweet picture of Rex on his knees and her face so full of joy. The headline read Rex Finds his One and Only in one paper and Worthy to Marry his Damsel in Distress in another that recapped the story of his carrying her to the elevator along with that photo. At least, they’d spelled her name right, Welles with two e’s, and used Tricia, not Patsy. In show biz, that mattered. Layla ripped up the first copy Trish cut out. She and Lee doing their duet only made the inside page. Tricia couldn’t quite figure out if her fury was directed at them or simply at being upstaged. No telling with Layla. Anyhow, she’d stashed away several copies along with her ring.

  “Thanks, but I want to spend Christmas with my family. You know, check up on Carson, make sure my Dad is okay. I’ll see about booking the church this spring for the wedding. I know this is mean, but I think your mother will still try to break us up if I go there.”

  Rex kissed the top of her head. “I can’t say for sure, my one and only, but no one can do that to us.”

  “I fear all this is too good to be true. Something bad will happen, if not your mother, then Layla.”

  “Christmas is a time for miracles. Accept ours.”

  ****

  A few days before Christmas, Tricia and Layla flew first class to Dallas, then caught the puddle-jumper to Iowa with the actress complaining all the way about leg room and being prevented from ordering an alcoholic beverage. Trish delivered Layla into her mother’s fleshy folds at the gate. She laid eyes on her just one more time during the vacation when the actress blocked four people sitting in back of her from seeing the Christmas pageant by wearing a dramatic, but overly large hat. The Welles family skipped the hot chocolate, cookies, and autograph session in the church hall afterwards. Tricia bet Layla took seconds on the refreshments. They drove home surrounded by acres of fallow cornfields lightly dusted with snow and glowing in the moonlight. The four men generated enough heat to warm the cab of the truck, but tomorrow, Tricia thought she’d light a fire in the parlor for the family to gather around while they opened their presents.

  With her bank account bursting from her enhanced salary and Micah Stanley’s generous monetary supplements, Tricia watched with pleasure as her family received their gifts Christmas morning. The fire crackled and reflected in the shining balls on the tree burdened with handmade ornaments accumulated since the children were tiny. Her mother never threw one away, no matter how crude or homely. Considering she’d had three sons that description applied to a lot of them.

  For Carson who had lost his gut and red-rimmed eyes, a box held a check for his first year of college tuition and a new laptop to use at the university. For Cody and Colt, the same laptop plus the latest iPhone. Ecstatic, Colt used the home phone to call Heidi Welch with the news. As for her dad, he rarely asked for anything but another year of good health. A large gift certificate to the John Deere store had to do.

  A heavy box arrived from Rex a few days before Christmas. When Tricia opened it, she held up a hefty Bible with leather bindings and gilded edges. Her dismay must have shown because Colt immediately piped up, “If I gave Heidi a Bible, she’d hit me over the head with it.”

  “What did you give Heidi—a kiss? They come pretty cheap. I’ll bet that Bible cost a bundle,” Cody said sensitive to his sister’s reaction.

  “Naw, he got her a little, bitty gold locket on a dainty chain from Walmart,” Carson revealed with his pinkie crooked in derision.

  Colt reddened. “At least I have a girlfriend. More than you guys can say.”

  Tricia read the inscription on the marbled inner cover of the Bible. “To my One and Only Tricia, This Good Book contains pictures of all your favorite Old Testament stories, ones from the New Testament, too. In the center are pages where we can record the births of our children. With much love, Rex.”

  Eyes filling with tears, she announced, “This is a great gift after all. Now go shave, all of you. Letty and Heidi will be here soon.”

  Seeing the way her father’s blue eyes lit with happiness that she had accepted Letty and in fact suggested the two families celebrate together, Tricia knew she’d given him a more wonderful gift than money could buy. She wouldn’t be around to take care of him in the future, but Letty Welch could do the job just fine, maybe better. Really, she felt a little ashamed of her gift to Rex, a hefty donation to his charitable foundation. He’d appreciate it, but cash seemed so impersonal.

  “One more present.” Her father took out a large oblong box he’d hidden way in the back of the tree. “To Tricia from her mother.”

  She tore off the wrappings to reveal Marty’s wedding gown, cleaned, sealed, and put away for the marriage of her daughter. Not designer or couture, Tricia’s maternal grandmother had made it in a rush. Why she never caught on that her birth was pending as her mother told the story of staying up nights to get the dress finished she didn’t know. Perhaps, that had been her mother’s way of telling her. The woman she’d called Nanny, sewer of the gown, passed away from cancer so early in her childhood she barely remembered her. Opening the bag for the first time in twenty-five years, Tricia shook out the gown.

  “Why, it looks like Kate Middleton’s gown from the royal wedding.”

  “Yep, so old it’s new again. I can’t tell you how beautiful your mother looked on her wedding day. The pictures didn’t do her justice. But she always said you didn’t have to wear it unless you wanted.” Still, Tricia saw the hope in his misty eyes.

  “I do. It’s lovely.” She sat there with the long lace sleeves and bodice draped over her knees, the simple, full white skirt pooling at her feet. “I’ll wear her pearls, too.”

  The doorbell rang and sent the men scattering. Cy answered the door to greet Letty burdened with two casserole dishes. Heidi, wearing a tiny gold locket with her merry red Christmas attire, carried a chocolate cake.

  “Seems I have to go shave, but let me help you with those dishes first. Trisha has the turkey in the oven and two pies made.”

  “You don’t have to shave for me, Cyrus Welles. I like the rugged look.”

  From her seat in
the parlor, Trisha observed Letty plant a kiss on her father’s cheek, and she longed for a touch of Rex’s bristle beneath her hands. She stood up, holding the dress against her body to see if it fit. Letty returned from the kitchen and poked her head in the doorway.

  “I brought the green bean casserole and the whipped potatoes like you asked. Thanks for inviting us. It means a lot. Look, I know I am not your mother, never can be, but I’m handy with a needle. I can make any adjustments that dress needs.” Letty cocked that jet-black head of hair. “Won’t take much you are so very like her.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that offer. Let’s get the table set. We drag out all of Granny’s best china and silver on Christmas. My mom insisted the men wear coats and ties for this one meal of the year. You’ll be surprised how well they clean up.”

  “Can’t wait to see that. Just tell me what else you want me to do. I’m your gal, too.”

  The women had set a beautiful table with a linen cloth and green candles in short silver holders by the time the men returned spruced up and ready to eat. Tricia noticed her father hadn’t shaved, starting a new custom perhaps.

  “How come Dad doesn’t have to…” Carson complained. Cody elbowed him.

  Colt told Heidi, “I don’t mind shaving. Sometimes I do it twice a day.”

  His brothers snickered, but their father called the table to order before the teasing intensified.

  “Let us pray. Dear Lord, we thank thee for the bounty set before us. This year we miss our wife and mother, Martha Welles, but know she sits at your table now. We are grateful to be free of debt thanks to our beloved daughter, Patricia, who sacrificed for us and has been rewarded with a wonderful life ahead. We are happy to welcome new faces to share our meal today. For what we are about to receive, our deepest gratitude. Amen.”

  “Amen! I call a drumstick,” Colt shouted.

  Tricia smiled, feeling the warmth of her family, her great good luck in meeting Rex. Still, she worried. She simply wasn’t good enough to deserve such happiness.

  ****

  At the end of the trip, Layla waited impatiently for Tricia at the airport. Her PA noticed at once a weight gain of at least five pounds put on over the holidays but said nothing. Selena would handle it. Though Tricia had withdrawn from Iowa State because of her upcoming wedding set for the first week in May, she did plan to enroll at UNO to be close to Rex. How close she could not say. She only knew in fifteen days she would be free of Layla forever and living elsewhere.

  Back in New Orleans the new script for Scandal! waited, and Layla immersed herself in the role while Selena sweated the last pounds off her frame. She looked toned, fit, even a little muscular beneath her curves. Rex and Tricia met away from the apartment to avoid any more scenes. He wanted Tricia to move in with him after the fifteenth. She refused.

  “You need to keep your mind on the playoffs and the Super Bowl. Neither of us needs more tabloid headlines.”

  Hangdog, he said, “I guess this means I’m celibate until after the big game.”

  “Didn’t say that, did I? Remember, people can have sex anytime, anywhere.”

  Rex brightened considerably. “Where will you be staying after you get rid of Layla?”

  “I’ll find a place, maybe just stay in a hotel for a few weeks and look around.”

  “Why don’t you go stay with Nell? Joe says bed rest drives her nuts, and she’d like some company. They have four bedrooms, only two occupied.”

  “I hardly know them well enough.”

  “No, but I do. I’ll arrange it.”

  As it turned out, the Billodeauxs were happy to have her. When she bid farewell to Layla, the actress lounged on the turquoise sofa and barely raised her eyes from the script.

  “Selena will come twice a week now until you leave for L.A. Do you know when that will be?”

  “When I feel like it.”

  “Okay. Don’t let Lee lead you astray.”

  Layla flicked her lavender-coated nails at her. “You know I don’t do drugs or alcohol when I’m working, only men. Why don’t you just go? Leave your forwarding address in case anyone cares which I highly doubt.”

  Tricia scribbled the address on a sheet of paper from her small notebook tucked in one of the pockets of the black bag. “I’m staying with the Billodeauxs. Please don’t call or bother them in any way. Nell is on bed rest until the babies are born.”

  “Rather you than me sitting around with a pregnant woman all day. Are you still here?”

  “Not anymore.” Tricia shouldered her black bag, picked up her laptop, and gripped the handle of her luggage. Now that she thought about it, she could donate the oversized bag to charity. She no longer had to lug Layla’s life around with her. Feeling lighter and happier, Tricia marched out the door toward freedom.

  Layla splayed the script over the back of the sofa and stretched for her phone lying on the coffee table. “Hey, Lee-Lee. My patsy is gone. I need you to get something for me. No, not drugs. I’m working right now. My drug use is strictly recreational. I want a gun for my protection now that I’m all alone. Yes, I know how to use one. Didn’t you see me in Point Blank Range! where I played the sexy lady cop. I took training so I’d know how to handle a pistol. Something small but lethal. Yeah, bring it by tonight and be prepared to stay.”

  Wouldn’t be long now before she showed Rex Worthy what she could do for him that wimpy Tricia Welles could not.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Sinners disposed of an exhausted wild card team with ease and worked their way through the rest of the playoffs with a respectable win each time. The French Quarter burst into drunken revelry when they claimed the right to go to the championship game, not that its denizens needed an excuse. Joe Dean Billodeaux played brilliantly like the final burst of a skyrocket. Rex Worthy quietly rode the pine.

  Nell Billodeaux fretted about her confinement and missing the Super Bowl in person. During the pre-game show, the camera panned across her children in place to see the game live with Knox Polk, Corazon, their son, Brinsley, Mawmaw Nadine and Pawpaw keeping them in line. Nurse Shammy allowed Tricia to bring requested beignets into the condo to tempt Nell’s flagging appetite and cheer her up though eating two gave the twin-bloated woman heartburn.

  “Be still. One more day,” the nurse kept telling her patient.

  Tricia did her best to be good company. However, she planned to go to the Dome for the second half to congratulate or console Rex as needed even if he never left the bench.

  ****

  Layla Devlin obtained a gun and bought a costume in advance of her planned festivities. On Super Bowl day, she purchased a large bunch of Mylar Best Wishes balloons in pink and blue. She spent the afternoon in Lee’s dressing room perfecting her makeup with his help and viewing the game on his small television. In acting, timing mattered. She watched Joe dominate the first half though the Colts and their young quarterback played hard, especially on defense. The Sinners were up two scores to none when she got into a cab and rode to the address Tricia had given her.

  The doorman, Gregory according to his nametag, left his computer console to open the entry for a very sexy Raggedy Ann carrying a balloon bouquet. The sexiest Raggedy Ann ever, Lee assured her. Layla wore a wig with long red yarn braids topped by a white cap. Her breasts bulged out of a white apron over the blue dress that ended six inches above her knees. Red and white striped stockings clad her magnificent legs halfway up her thighs. Red bows serving as garters drew the eyes upward from her coy black Mary Jane shoes.

  Lee had outdone himself on the make-up. With her lips coated in scarlet, he’d extended black lines on either side making a happy bowed smile that nearly reached the two perfect red circles on Layla’s cheeks. He’d used his own glittering eye shadow extending it up to her brows plucked into two thin lines and painted black. Long false eyelashes fluttered over marks drawn on her lower lids to give his Raggedy Ann a starry stare.

  “Oh my, I could eat you up you look so sweet,” Lee exclaim
ed.

  “Later for that. Do I look like Layla Devlin?”

  “Darling, I would recognize you anywhere, but no one else. Even though I know Patsy treated you abominably and Nell humiliated you, I do think it’s so wonderful of you to make peace with them this way. Oh so cute and original, so gracious for a famous star to reach out to those little people who wronged her.”

  “Yeah, hand me those balloons and call a cab.”

  While Lee took care of that last detail, Layla stowed her pistol in the elastic waistband of Raggedy Ann’s very short bloomers. Now by the look in the doorman’s eyes, she knew he thought he beheld a stripper moonlighting for a balloon delivery service. She fluttered her false lashes. Didn’t matter because Raggedy Ann would not be on his computer’s “no entry” list while Layla Devlin most assuredly was. “Delivery for Nell Billodeaux in the penthouse apartment,” she said in a little girl’s voice.

  “I can take them up and spare you the trip,” he said.

  And grab the tip, Layla thought. She recognized his kind, always scheming for extra bucks like Tricia. “Oh no, I have to sing and dance for the lady to cheer her up.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to like that during the game, but she could use something to take her mind off her surgery tomorrow. You know about that?”

  “Sure, everybody in New Orleans knows.” The commentators had done nothing but yammer about Nell and her precious babies leading up to the game. Would Joe Dean be able to keep his head in the game? Evidently, because all of them said he played like he was thirty again and Rex Worthy didn’t stand a chance of getting into the action.

  “Wait with me till halftime. Her husband send those?”

  “I guess. How’s the game going?” she asked, keeping her voice childish.

  “Down to less than a minute until the half. Joe has the ball again. Go, Joe! Make it three up.” The doorman took a look at his screen. “Want to see?” he offered.