by Lauren Wood
“It’s about Mollie Carter,” she said, still refusing to look at me.
I felt my breath catch in my throat. “What about her, ma? What is it? Is Mollie okay? Did she get married?” I raised my voice again. “Mom! Just tell me what it is!”
“She never married,” she said, finally bringing her eyes up to mine. “She teaches third grade at the elementary school.”
I blew out a sigh of relief. A smile cracked across my lips. “That’s it?” I laughed. “Christ, ma, I already knew that.”
“What you don’t know, Chase,” she said, resting a hand on my knee. “Is that Mollie has a son. His name is Tommy.”
* * *
I blinked at her. The words hung in my ears.
She said, “Chase, did you hear me?”
“I heard you, ma,” I said. For some reason, my heart was filled with jealousy and anger. I gritted my teeth. “Who’s the father?”
“Well, I have no idea,” she said quickly. “I haven’t spoken to Mollie since you two broke up.”
“But people talk, ma,” I said, eyeing her warily. There was no bigger town gossip than my mother and the gaggle of church biddies she hung out with. I knew that she knew far more than she was letting on.
“Well, I certainly don’t gossip,” she said, all offended.
“There’s something else,” I said, watching her look away. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Chase, just let it go. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Mollie has a son,” I said to myself. “Imagine that.”
“Yes, imagine that.”
My arm began to ache and I brought up my left hand to give my shoulder and bicep a good rub. I was in constant pain, though most of the time it was no more than a dull ache, just enough to let me know it was there.
I still got headaches, too. Migraines, like the one that was coming on now. The doctors said I would have them the rest of my life; the result of the concussion from the wreck.
My head started pounding. I was seeing little lights flashing in my right eye, like little ghosts dancing around. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead above my eyebrows.
“Mom, are you telling me that I have a son?” I asked, my eyes still closed.
“What? No, why on earth would you think that?”
“Then what are you saying?” I asked. My voice had dropped to a whisper. Every word rammed into my temples like a blacksmith hammering iron. I started thinking that coming home had been a huge mistake.
“I’m not saying anything,” she said softly, getting up and quickly moving to the door.
“I think there’s a lot you’re not saying,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.
She huffed at me and said, “Mollie has moved on, Chase, and you should, too.”
Chapter 11
Mollie
I stopped by the corner market for bread and milk, picked Tommy up from daycare, and made it home to find an old blue Chevy truck parked in front of my mom’s house. Tommy and I were living with mom until I could get my school loans paid down and save enough for a down payment on a home of our own.
My heart leapt into my throat because I recognized the truck immediately. It was Chase’s dad’s old truck. Chase used to pick me up in the thing every Friday and Saturday night to go parking at the lake.
It was a rattle trap even back then, with a worn bench seat covered by an old blanket, no seat belts, no heat or air, barely any brakes, and side mirrors that were held on with duct tape.
The best thing about it was its long bed where Chase would spread out sleeping bags and we’d lie naked under the stars, exploring each other’s bodies and talking about our future.
I loved that old truck and every time I saw it coming I knew I was in for the ride of my life. But that was years ago. Now, it was like seeing a ghost.
I shut off the car and sat staring at the truck. Chase was not behind the wheel. My pulse started to race. He wasn’t in the truck and he wasn’t in the yard. That meant that he was probably inside with my mom.
“Oh shit,” I said as I hurriedly pulled Tommy out of his car seat and grabbed the bag of groceries.
Tommy squealed when I scooped him up and he clung on to me like a little chimp. He smiled and waved his hands in excitement, as if he knew something exciting was about to happen.
I wasn’t so sure it would be exciting. It would depend on the version of Chase who was waiting inside.
* * *
My mom met me at the door. She had a look of stunned silence on her face. She took Tommy out of my arms and leaned in to whisper at me.
“He’s in the kitchen. I’m going to take Tommy upstairs until you’re ready.”
“Ready for what, mom?” I asked with a frown.
She blinked at me. “You know.” When I gave her a blank stare she put an edge to her voice. “You have to tell him, Mollie Marie. He has a right to know.”
“He has no rights at all,” I said, closing the door and pushing her toward the stairs. “You just take Tommy upstairs and let me handle it.”
She started to say something more, but I pushed her again and she went up the stairs.
When I turned, Chase was standing in the kitchen door with a big smile on his face.
Chapter 12
Mollie
“Hello, Mollie,” he said, taking a step closer with his arms spread.
“Stop,” I said, holding up a hand and taking a step back. If he thought he could just waltz back into my life with kisses and hugs, he was sorely mistaken and I told him so.
He immediately stopped moving toward me and let his arms drop to his sides. His right arm went down slower than his left. I saw him wince in pain.
“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his right arm with his left hand. I could tell he was in pain, but he forced the smile again. “I should have called. I mean, I just wanted to, well… It’s good do see you again.”
I bit my tongue. It was all I could do not to say the same words back to him.
To say that I almost peed in my pants when I saw him standing there would be an understatement. I’d seen Chase on TV a few times over the last couple of years, but the last time I looked into those amazing blue eyes was when we kissed goodbye at the airport.
And now here he was, standing in my mom’s house, giving me a smile like nothing happened. He looked like a shell of the boy I once knew. The dirty blond hair and smile was still there, but he looked smaller, thinner. There was no bluster and the confidence he’d always oozed was gone. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
I waited until I heard my mom closed the bedroom door upstairs, then pushed past him to go into the kitchen.
Chase followed me without a word. He leaned against the counter to watch me put the bread and milk away. After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, “How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” I said, not bothering to hide the tone of anger in my voice.” I leaned against the fridge and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you here, Chase?”
“I just wanted to see you,” he said, shrugging with his left shoulder. “I hear you’re teaching school now.”
“Yes.”
“Third grade.” He smiled again. “That’s good. I know that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.”
“Yes.”
“Your mom seems good,” he said. He was still smiling, like his face was frozen. “My mom’s good.”
I didn’t give a shit how Chase’s mom was and he knew it. She had never liked me and I hadn’t even spoken to her in two years. Still, I said, “Good.”
“I hear you have a son,” he said, his mood turning serious. He rubbed his arm and stared the pictures of Tommy mom and I had taped to the front of the fridge.
I moved to stand between him and the photos, hoping that cutting off his view would cut off his questioning. It did not.
“Tommy,” he said. “Your mom says he’s almost a year and a half now.”
“Sixteen months,” I said without thinking.
I took a deep breath and asked the question that I really didn’t want him to answer. “Why are you here, Chase?”
“I needed to see you again, Mollie,” he said, bringing his blue eyes up to mine. “To apologize for what I did. I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Fine, you’ve said it.” I folded my arms over my breasts and let my eyebrows go up. “Is that it?”
“Not quite,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “And I wanted to meet my son.”
Chapter 13
Chase
Mollie looked at me as if I were a crazy man speaking a language she’d never heard. Her eyes went wide and her lips moved, but no words came out.
She turned back toward the fridge, pulled open the door, and took out a water bottle, then sat down at the kitchen table. She twisted the top off the water bottle and took a long drink.
“Mollie, did you hear me?” I asked. I moved to sit across from her. The migraine I’d had at my mom’s house had subsided enough that my vision was clear, but my head still ached. Thankfully I had the pain in my arm to distract me. That and the feelings of shame and guilt that were oozing from every pore in my body.
“Look, I know I have no right to be here,” I said.
“That’s right,” she shot back. “You don’t.”
“I fucked up, Mollie,” I said, my voice cracking. “I royally fucked up. I got so caught up in being in the NFL, and all the money and the fame…”
“And the women,” she said. Her eyes were shooting daggers into me. I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sting of them.
“Yes, the women, but they meant nothing to me. And I swear on the Bible that I never touched another woman while we were together.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked. “The fact that you supposedly didn’t screw anyone else until after you broke up with me over the phone?”
“I guess not,” I said with a sigh. Christ, I was lousy at this. I rested my forearms on the table and laced my fingers together. I watched her stew for a minute, her beautiful eyes seething.
She squeezed the water bottle between her hands until the plastic popped. I figured she was probably imagining that it was my head she was squeezing.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to just put it all out there and let her decide if I deserved another shot.
I said, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Mollie. I really am. And I’ll make no excuses for my actions other than to say that I was a twenty-one-year-old kid who lived and breathed football, and when the Falcons wanted to draft me, well, other than having you as my girl, it was my greatest dream come true.”
“I know that,” she said, staring at the table between us.
“When I went to Atlanta I had people pushing things at me, things that I could only dream of. I mean, my family was not rich. We barely made ends meet most months and here I was making more money just for signing my name to a contract than my dad made over his whole lifetime. I couldn’t process it all. I didn’t know what to do.”
I’ve never been much a cry baby, but without warning, my eyes filled with tears. I licked my lips and wiped my nose on the back of my hand.
I said, “I saw that my life was spiraling out of control, but I didn’t try to stop it. I wanted the money and the fame and big houses and the fast cars. My ego was out of control. When you’re an NFL quarterback you have people standing in line to tell you how great you are. And I started buying into it. I started believing the hype. And I knew that you wouldn’t like the person I had become. So I decided to break up with you, to save you from the person I had become.”
Mollie blinked at me for a moment. The anger left her eyes and a smile crossed her lips. Just when I thought I was making headway, she cocked her head at me and said, “So you dumped me because you didn’t want me to see what an asshole you had become.”
I hesitated for a second.
When she said it, it sounded ludicrous.
All I could do was give her a slow nod.
She smiled brightly at me and held up her hands.
“Well, thank you for that, Chase. And thank you for giving me the chance today to tell you to go fuck yourself!”
Chapter 14
Mollie
Chase was either the biggest idiot on the planet, or he was so wrapped up in himself that he thought I would fall for the old, “It’s not you, it’s me” routine.
I couldn’t help but laugh at him, sitting there like a whipped pup, telling me that he dumped me for my own good. I leaned back and shook the water bottle at him. I hated to kick a man when he was down, but if a man ever needed kicking, it was Chase at that moment.
“You can take your bullshit and go, Chase Richards,” I said. I leaned in with my teeth gritted and tapped a fingernail to the table. “There is nothing for you here. Nothing.”
Chase sat quietly for a moment with his head down. My eyes went to his right arm. He was wearing a t-shirt and I could see the scars webbing from his shirtsleeve to his wrist.
His arm was thin, with barely any muscle tone. It was half the size of his left arm. I remembered the muscles that used to pop out from that arm when he’d palm a football or lift me in the air or grab my waist to pummel me up and down on him when we made love.
Suddenly, my anger seemed to dissipate. The memory of his mangled Porsche on the news flashed before my eyes. The hours of not knowing if he was dead or alive, the mourning of our dead future, the months and months of lying alone at night thinking about him. It all seemed to come back at that moment.
I looked up to find my mom standing in the kitchen doorway with Tommy in her arms. I looked at my little boy, then looked at Chase. There was no denying the truth anymore.
I got up from the table and took Tommy into my arms, and stood facing Chase. With as much strength as I could muster, I said, “Chase, meet Tommy. Your son.”
Chapter 15
Chase
Mollie was holding a little boy with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. He had a round little face and a round little nose. He reached out for me and waved his hand. It was like looking at one of the baby pictures of me my mom had framed in her bedroom.
“My son?” I heard myself say, getting to my feet. Mollie put Tommy into my arms, being mindful of my weak right arm. Tommy looked up and gave me a slobbery smile.
“Yes,” Mollie said, tears in her eyes. “Your son.”
Without thinking, I held out my shaking right hand to Mollie. “Does this mean, I mean…”
“It means that we’ll see where things go,” Mollie said, holding up her hands and giving me a wary smile. “I haven’t forgiven you for anything – yet. But I’d never keep your son away from you.”
“Thank you, Mollie,” I said. Tears filled my eyes again as I held my son close. Tommy slapped his little hands against my face and cooed.
“He’s strong,” Mollie said, smiling, genuinely smiling for the first time. “He’ll probably be an athlete, like his father.” She raised an eyebrow and gave me a look. “Let’s just hope he handles it better.”
Chapter 16
Mollie
It’s been almost six months since Chase came home with his body in pieces and his spirit broken. He’s still staying with his mom and doing rehab at a local center.
He’ll never get the strength back in his right arm, but he seems okay with that. He seems to understand now that there’s more to life than throwing a football.
His arm aches sometimes and he gets migraines, but the pain seems to lessen every week. I think it’s because his son is such good medicine.
Chase knows his playing days are behind him, but he’s still interested in sports. He enrolled at the local college a few weeks ago. He’s determined to finish his degree in physical education. He wants to be a high school football coach. Imagine that!
The more time we’ve spent together over the last six months, the more I understand that his body wasn’t the only thing that was changed
by the wreck.
He seems much calmer now.
He takes life a little slower.
He isn’t so quick to react and rarely gets angry; unless he’s watching an Alabama football game on TV and things aren’t going Bama’s way.
Maybe it’s because he knows what’s really important now. He starts each day with the knowledge that he has a son and knows that it’s time to grow up.
Or maybe he’s just trying to impress me.
Whatever it is, I love the new Chase Richards and I find myself falling deeper in love with him every day.
Epilogue
Mollie
I gave Tommy a quick kiss and told him to be a good boy for grandma. I gave my mom a hug and said I wouldn’t be out too late.
“Stay out as late as you like,” mom said, giving me a sly grin. “We’ll be just fine.”
I grabbed my purse off the little table in the foyer and opened the front door. Sitting at the curb was the old blue pickup truck. Chase was standing next to it, holding the passenger door open. He was also holding a bouquet of daisies, my favorite.
“Your chariot awaits, madam,” he said as I came down the walk. I fell into his arms and pressed my lips to his. He picked me up with his left arm and spun me around, then deposited me in the passenger seat. He slammed the door and trotted to the other side to get behind the wheel.
“What are those?” I asked, looking through the back window at the rolled up sleeping bags lying in the truck bed.
“I thought we’d go to the lake,” he said with a grin. He turned the key to fire up the truck and winced just a little as he pulled it into gear. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
I slid across the seat and put my left arm over the back of the seat and rested my right hand on his thigh.
He looked down, then brought his eyes up to mine and gave me the smile that got me into the bed of that truck the first time all those years ago.
“What are you waiting for,” I asked, giving his thigh a squeeze.
