"Are you happy now?" he nearly yells, gesturing at the restaurant. "First the game, and now this? Are you happy that you saw Mr. Football Hero? Can we go now? Or do you want some more private time?"
"Lorenzo, what I do is my own business," I say evenly, trying to keep my voice level. "We've discussed that, and you agreed to it as well. I know your feelings, but I won’t be ordered what to do!"
"So you can go running back to him? He's an imbecile, a brute who gets paid to beat up people in front of a crowd! You might as well call him a gladiatore!"
I nod, and open the door of the car. “Maybe, but he was polite and kind to all three of us tonight," I say. "That's better than I can say for you. Now, are you driving, or are you going to stand there?"
Lorenzo thumps down into the driver's seat and jams the keys into the ignition. He sits there for a moment, then shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry, Whitney, but I can’t do this anymore."
He gets out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, and now Laurie's crying in her booster seat in the back of the car, watching the two adults who have so far raised her yell and argue. I get out and watch Lorenzo go around to the sidewalk. "Where are you going?"
"Back to the hotel," Lorenzo replies. "If you choose me, well, we can discuss that on the way back to Italy. But if not . . . I can't fight this ghost of yours any longer. I've been a good man to you, Whitney, and I love you with all my heart. But you don’t love me. I can see that. I can see something else, too, and I can't fight that anymore. So I'm not going to. I have too much of my life left to waste it fighting with some ghost that is now flesh. Arrivederci, Whitney."
Lorenzo walks off, and it's my turn to start crying as he leaves. I wipe at my eyes, though, and go around to the driver's seat, sitting behind the wheel. Laurie's still crying, not understanding except that Lorenzo's walked away. "Mama, what happened? Where's Lorenzo?"
"Away," I reply, looking back. "He's . . . well, baby, he may have to go back to Italy. We'll talk about it at Grandma's house. There's a lot to talk about, I think."
"Lorenzo's going? But why? Why is he leaving?" Laurie cries, tears rolling down her face, and I don't have an answer for her. Instead, I drive, hoping that my own tears don't lead to me getting in a wreck before I get to Mom's house.
Chapter 14
Troy
"Troy! Holy shit, man, it’s good to see you!"
I'm smiling as I give my old center a hug. Pete blocked for me for two years, and despite the fact that I'm now bigger than him, it certainly doesn't feel like it. The morning sun drifts through the trees that shade the entrance to Pete's house, and I let go of him, shaking hands instead. "Hey, bro, congratulations. Who'd have guessed that you'd get back with Dani after the Navy?"
"It is pretty freaky," he agrees, laughing. "But I guess that's just love, you know? When I got out of the Navy, I came back here just to chill for a bit and consider my options, and bam! I literally ran into her in the supermarket. Knocked her down coming around the corner to the frozen food aisle."
"So what are you doing now?" I ask, following Pete inside his house. It's a nice little place, not very big, but for a young couple just starting out, it's good. "I mean, besides getting married."
"I'm working for the city now," he says. "The Navy taught me to take care of all the pipes and water systems for a nuclear aircraft carrier, and now I get to do it for the city, minus the nuclear reactor, of course. Oh, the smart asses might call me just a plumber, but I prefer the term hydrology engineer. At least it sounds better on my business card."
I laugh and take a seat in the offered chair. "That's good, man. The city's a good place to work, and you two can build a good family here, you know?"
Pete nods, grinning. "We know. We already have it mapped out. I'm going to work while Dani finishes her doctorate, and after that, Dani's going to support me while I take night classes, turn that associate's I was able to get in the Navy into a four-year degree. Unless, of course, kids come, then we might have to adjust timelines."
"Dani's going to get her doctorate?" I ask, shocked. Dani and I have kept in touch over the years, but it's never been about academics, but instead about other things. She mentioned something about her study, but I thought she was going into social work, not something that requires a doctorate. "Harley Quinn’s getting an MD?"
The door to the kitchen opens, and Dani, still tiny and wearing her hair in twin blonde ponytails, comes out. "Psychologists get PhDs, actually, Troy. Psychiatrists get MDs. And by the way, you are about the only person left in town who is allowed to call me Harley. How're you doing, big guy?"
We exchange hugs, and I have to admit, Dani looks beautiful, mainly because she looks so happy. I sit back down and watch as she gives Pete a kiss before taking a seat on the sofa next to him. I feel the little twinge inside, and I know it, I'm jealous. They look so happy together. "So the honeymoon's set too?"
Pete nods. "We're not exactly rich, you know, but we figured it out. We're going to go up to this lake in Canada, just north of Vancouver for a week. They rent out cabins, and we're going to enjoy the time before fall session starts for Dani. I already got the time off with the city, and things are going well."
I shake my head, amazed. "Good for you guys. I mean that."
"So what's up, Troy?" Pete asks. "When you called and said you wanted to come over, you sounded like you had something you wanted to talk about."
I nodded, my smile fading. "Actually, Pete, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk with Dani alone, please. Just for a few minutes. I promise, I won't tell her about that time we went out in the woods with just a jar of peanut butter and no spare underpants."
Pete laughs at the old joke and gets up. "Sure. You guys want the living room?"
I shake my head, getting up as well. "Actually, if you don't mind, Dani, can we talk in the back yard?"
Dani gives me a nod, and I can see she's slightly nervous. We go into the back yard while Pete settles back on the couch, and I close the glass door behind us, leaving the curtains open so that he can see that I am behaving. After all, I am in the backyard with his fiancée.
"What's up, Troy? You know, if it's about a wedding gift, the register is not the only thing that . . .”
"How long have you known?" I ask quietly, standing in the grass a few yards out from the end of the concrete patio. "About Whitney?"
Dani stops, then sighs. "That she's been back in town? About a week now. She got in with Laurie and Lorenzo on Monday."
"You knew for a week, and you didn't think to mention it to me?" I ask, trying to control my temper. "You, who knows more than any other person in the world how much I've hurt for the past five years? You knew, and you didn't tell me? Why?"
Dani's struggling with her emotions now, and she walks further out into the backyard, probably to prevent Pete from overhearing. "This hurts for me too, you know!" she finally says, turning on me when we reach the fence. "How do you think it felt to have my best friend of fourteen years just up and leave the country? How do you think it feels to watch you, the guy that I consider my best guy friend in the world, tear himself apart in his personal life even as he tears apart every asshole who crosses his path on the football field? How do you think that feels, huh? So yeah, I knew. And yeah, maybe I played it a little selfish not telling you. But, I'm getting married next Saturday! I was hoping, praying, that I wouldn't have to face this situation until after I got married. Is that too much to ask?"
I turn and lean on the back fence and look into their neighbor's yard, trying to control my feelings. "She came to the game with her daughter and that man," I said, my weight causing the fence to groan. They've got a dog, a little dachshund, but it's tied up at the moment, yapping away on its long lead. "Laurie asked me for an autograph, and I had no idea who she was, until he comes up and takes her by the hand, and then out of the fucking blue, Whitney's there next to them. She invited me to see them at the Cafe Italiano, and things didn't go well. I nearly lost my temper with Laurie'
s father."
"Laurie's . . .?” Dani asks, not understanding I mean Lorenzo. "What happened then?"
"I gave Whitney my phone number, hoping she'd call. I'm not saying I have to have her back. Yes, it hurts, and that moment on the sidelines, it felt like time slipped back, except it didn’t. All the want was there, but all of the pain and anger too. I feel bad for RJ on the other team. I didn't mean to break his wrist."
"I bet," Dani says. It was in the news—the quarterback I sacked broke his wrist on that last play. He's going to be out another six to eight weeks, and for a quarterback to hurt his throwing wrist like that, it could be even worse. At least it happened in the first week of the pre-season, and he'll have some time to heal. If the Hawks beat his team in the regular season, I want it to be straight up, not because they're playing at less than full strength. "You were a beast out there. Reminded me of your game against Northern."
"Yeah . . . Northern," I reflect. "Where my heart was torn out right afterward. Dani, do you know? Do you know why? I'm guessing from something in the way Whitney said your name at the cafe, you two have been in contact. She didn't just look you up on Facebook, I bet."
Dani nods but doesn't say anything for a while. "Troy, bear with me. Remember, I'm a psychologist now, and we tend to ramble. I'm sure you know that. The Hawks have a sports psychologist on staff. I took a class from the guy my junior year at State."
"You're trying to distract me. It won't work. But go ahead."
"Okay. Hypothetically. Imagine you're me. Your best friend leaves suddenly, and a few weeks later, you get an email from her, swearing you to secrecy. You know that if you tell anyone—including the guy on the football team she's been seeing—about it, that you'll never hear from her again. Now, what would you do?"
"I don't know," I say, thinking. "I guess I'd keep the secret."
"Yep, and I did," Dani says. “It tore me apart. I did what I could, being a friend to her and to you, even as I knew the truth on both sides."
"And what's the truth, Dani?” I ask.
"I can't tell you! It's not my place!" Dani yells, and I see movement inside. Pete's up, his eyes concerned as he sees her yelling at me. Dani notices too, and waves him back down before turning back to me. "I can't tell you. Only Whitney can do that."
"Great," I whisper. "But she isn't calling me. I only have today off. Then we're in full-on camp mode again through the start of the regular season. Last game's an away game, so the day off is our travel day, and I talked with the team. They've given me your wedding off, but what if she leaves again?"
Dani looks at me and sets a hand on my back. "All right. I shouldn't tell you, but you deserve it, if only to talk with Whitney. She's at her Mom's place—she's staying there until things get settled for her and Laurie."
I nod, too overcome with emotion to form words for a few seconds. "Thank you, Dani. I guess I have been a burden on you."
She shakes her head and her arm slides around my waist. "If you were a burden, I'd never have told you anything, you know. You've been a good friend, and you deserve closure at least. I'd prefer if you find happiness, though."
Now calm again, we go back inside, and I say my goodbyes to Pete and Dani and promise again that I will be at their wedding. Getting in my car, I immediately head over to Ms. Nelson's house. It's funny, really. I call teammates and coaches who are nearly the same age as Ms. Nelson by their first name all the time, but to me, Patricia Nelson is always going to be Ms. Nelson.
Her house is nearly identical to what is was five years ago, although the brown paint on the trim looks fresher than it had been. I realize, sitting there, that of all the time I've been back in Silver Lake Falls, I've never driven down this street. It's like I've been avoiding it, even going out of my way to avoid the neighborhood. Swallowing, I park, and getting out, I feel a sense of deja vu. It's then that I realize I didn't park in front of the Nelson house, but instead a few doors down, and a very familiar set of planters is right there next to me. At least the red flowers have been replaced.
I walk on nearly numb legs to the door, hoping against hope that Whitney is there. Lorenzo, Laurie, Ms. Nelson . . . I don't care about them. Well, Laurie is cute, and she's a nice little girl, and I'd like to apologize to her about the crappy dinner she had last time, but it's Whitney I need to see.
My finger is shaking as I reach out and touch the button, and inside the house, the bell rings.
Please, let it be Whitney.
Chapter 15
Whitney
"No, Lorenzo, I don't think that's a good idea."
I'm talking on the phone, a conversation that I should have had with Lorenzo weeks, if not months earlier, but I was too moved by his care for Laurie to be more firm with him. It's my fault, really. I ended up stringing him along when I shouldn't have. "Yes, I understand that it puts the business at risk. Lorenzo, when I proposed this idea months ago, I thought about that. Of course not! You and I both know that I was always honest with you. I always told you after we broke up that I just don’t love you. I've tried to be as kind as I can about it, and I care for you, but only as a friend. I'm not going to be held hostage by that any longer."
Lorenzo unleashes a long string of liquid Italian in my ear, and I can tell he's either crying or half-drunk, or possibly both. “That doesn't matter. Yes, you care for Laurie, and she cares for you too. But I've made my decision. Laurie and I are permanently relocating to the United States, regardless of how you feel or how it effects our business. I hope you and I can continue to operate as business partners. You're a smart man, and I think you and I can make good money this way. But if your feelings are going to get in the way of that . . . then it's best we make a clean break before either of us gets more financially invested in what would be a doomed project."
Lorenzo's clearly crying now, and I feel a twinge of regret. I do care for him, even if it's not as he needs, and I don't want to hurt him. He goes off again in Italian, and I listen as peacefully as I can. "If that is your decision, Lorenzo, then so be it. I'll adjust my plans accordingly. Goodbye."
I hang up the phone as Lorenzo keeps yelling, putting the phone on silent before he can call back. I'm not going to be emotionally hijacked by a man, even if he does care for Laurie, especially after the way he went off outside the Cafe Italiano. I’m glad that Mom had taken her to the preschool at her church, which offers full daycare or partial daycare, at least until Laurie is ready to start elementary school next year.
Someone rings the doorbell, and I wonder who it is. Mom doesn't get deliveries often, she says, and it's just after eleven. Mom said she was going to go to work after dropping Laurie off, so it couldn't be her. She isn't supposed to be home until six or seven.
I get up from the couch and walk toward the front door, and when I'm about three feet from the painted white wood of the inside, I feel it, a tingle that starts at the base of my neck before becoming a hum that seems to wash through my entire body. Maybe I'm psychic, or maybe I just feel the magnetism, but I'm not surprised at all when I see Troy standing there, a nervous look on his face. "Whitney."
"Troy. I didn't think you knew I was staying here. I suppose I have Dani to thank for this?" I should be pissed that he's here uninvited, but I'm not.
"Please don't blame her," Troy says, and I can't be mad at Dani either. I knew that after Troy gave me his phone number I was avoiding calling him, even though I shouldn't have. I just kept putting it off, hoping the problem would solve itself. I should have called him, but I didn't. Now, he's standing outside my door, and the magnetism is back, and I feel like fate is taking control again. "I damn near begged her in her backyard while their neighbor's dog yapped at a thousand barks an hour."
I can't help it. I smile. "All right, I won't blame her. She just did the right thing anyway. I should have called you. Would you like to come inside?"
Troy nods, and I turn, leading him into the living room. "Have a seat on the sofa. We can talk there. You want something to drink? Water, some
Gatorade or something? I'm not sure what a professional athlete like you drinks."
"Careful which player you ask that to," Troy replies with a chuckle. "A lot of my teammates would hit you up for a beer."
"Dani told me you're totally dry. I'll be the first to say I support you in that, but I do sometimes have a glass of red wine with dinner. You can't spend five years in Europe without becoming used to that."
"That's okay, I don't worry about what other people do there. Just . . . I won't let myself down that road, even in the littlest step,” Troy says, pausing while I disappear into the kitchen. I come back with a couple of glasses of apple juice. It's Laurie's favorite and it’s cold. "Thanks. I guess you know why I came by."
"I do," I reply, and I take a sip of my juice to settle my nerves. "We've got a lot to talk about."
Troy nods. "I'll be honest with you, Whitney. When I saw you last week at the stadium . . . it scraped a scab that I thought was a scar."
I nod in understanding. "I'm sorry about that. If it means anything, it reopened a lot of closets that I thought I'd locked closed a long time ago too. No, that's not true. The doors might have been closed, but there were still things stirring inside, even after five years."
Troy nods and sighs. "So where do we begin? I don't want to sound like a melodramatic hysteric, but all I have inside me are hysterical questions. Maybe it's better . . . safer if I just let you tell me what you want to tell, and then we can go from there."
I laugh softly and take another sip of juice. "You've become a bit of a nerd in the past few years. I don't think the Troy I knew would have even used words like melodramatic hysteric. Clement was good for you."
"Coach Jackson was good for me. After the season, he took me in and made sure I had a roof over my head and clothes on my back. More importantly, though, he personally guided every step of my college prep. He was the one who cracked the books, who made sure in the dark days that I didn't give up, and made sure I was ready come May for graduation and to go to college."
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