Buddy Carruthers, Wide Receiver

by Jean C. Joachim

  “Shut up, Bull!” Buddy hollered.

  “A thousand times better than anything you’re sleepin’ with, Brodsky,” Trunk Mahoney shouted. “And I do mean ‘thing’.”

  Muffled snickers met Buddy’s ears, making him grin.

  When he returned home, he took the steps two at a time. Emmy was waiting. It was only four o’clock, so they had plenty of time to hit the shops in downtown Monroe.

  “Baby!” Buddy grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him for a passionate kiss.

  “Buddy,” she said, when she could catch her breath.

  “Did you have fun today? What did you do?”

  “I met Gert. She almost scared me to death. Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot this is her day to clean.”

  “She does a great job and thinks a lot of you.”

  He smiled. “She has good taste.”

  Emmy snorted then took his hand. “Let’s go.”

  They roared out of the driveway and into town. Buddy lent her a King’s cap to hide the distinctive green streak in her hair. There were several tony shops, but none with prices she was used to paying. Still, Emmy said they were “quaint” and filled several shopping bags with clothes. Buddy insisted on paying.

  “Do you really need so much for only a week?”

  “You’re right. Let’s return the lingerie.”

  Buddy put his hand on hers as she was reaching for the bag. “Don’t be hasty. Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know how much you need. This looks okay to me.”

  She snickered. “So transparent, Carruthers.”

  As they rounded the bend in the road leading to his house, Buddy remarked about the amount of cars parked at the curb.

  “Who are these people?” Emmy asked, when he turned off the car.

  “My teammates.” Anger rose in his chest.

  “What the hell?”

  “Bullhorn told them about you. They’re here to get autographs.”

  “Oh, shit,” she muttered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She waved him away. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Hazard of this business.”

  They approached the house, and Bullhorn rushed up to them. “We brought everything. Steaks. Beer.”

  “We’re having a party. Welcoming Emerald to Monroe,” Trunk Mahoney put in.

  “Swell,” Buddy replied, grabbing Bullhorn by his shirt and pulling him aside. “She’s supposed to be hiding, you asshole! This is supposed to be a fucking secret!”

  Bull shrugged. “She’s a big star. Can’t keep that a secret for long.”

  “Not when you’re around.”

  “It’s okay, Buddy.” Emmy kissed his cheek. “It’s six. Let’s grill those steaks and have a party.”

  Buddy unlocked the door and his teammates, along with their spouses and girlfriends, piled in. Emmy was swamped immediately. She signed autographs and answered questions. Buddy introduced Griff first.

  “He’s the guy who gives me the ball and makes me look good. This is his wife, Lauren.”

  Emmy smiled up at the tall man. “Thanks for taking care of Buddy. Nice to meet you, Lauren.”

  Lauren followed Buddy into the kitchen. People plopped cases of beer and grocery bags of steaks and side dishes on the counters and floor. “Fire up the grill, Buddy. I’ll get the rest of this stuff ready.”

  Emmy changed into her new clothes. The men wanted her to sing, but she had no instruments. “Buddy, do you still have that old guitar?”

  “The one you tried to teach me on?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s in my closet. In the back. I’m tone deaf, baby. A worthless cause.”

  “You have other skills,” she said, casting a lascivious look at his body.

  “Glad you noticed.” He chuckled.

  “Sing for us, Emerald!” It was Bullhorn, pulling her away from the wide receiver.

  After tuning up the instrument, she sat down on the deck. The men and women gathered around her, sitting on chairs or the floor, cross-legged. Some stood, nursing a beer. Several people called out some of her most well-known songs. She raised her hand. Buddy manned the grill, turning the steaks while watching her.

  “This is a song I wrote for Buddy. It’s from a poem called ‘When You Need Me.’ I wrote it on the bus as I was leaving Willow Falls, five years ago.” Her gaze connected with his. Tears clouded her eyes. His watered as well. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, sniffled, and then sat down on a chair and strummed a few chords. The crowd quieted down.

  Her voice rang out, clear as a bell, in the silence. Buddy stopped cooking to watch and listen. She closed her eyes from time to time as she sang and put emotion into every phrase. Several of the women listening teared up. When she finished, no one moved for a moment, and then they burst into a huge round of applause.

  One of the cheerleaders dating the kicker, Robbie Anthony, picked up her cell and glanced at Buddy before disappearing into the house. His stomach knotted. Before he could ponder what she was doing, Emmy joined him.

  “I’m starved. When are those gonna be done?”

  “I’ve got three already. The rest’ll be ready soon.” Buddy handed over a platter loaded with three, thick steaks, still sizzling. Emmy grabbed it with two hands and carted it into the kitchen.

  After they ate, Emmy played some popular folk songs on the guitar and everyone sang along. Following the fourth song, Buddy interrupted the merriment. He raised his hands. Bullhorn put two fingers in his mouth and let loose an ear-splitting whistle.

  “Before this breaks up, I gotta tell you something. Emmy’s been hassled by a crazy stalker. She’s supposed to be hiding out here. Only a couple of people know where she is. So please, don’t tell anyone. Okay? It’s gotta be a real secret. Her safety depends on it.”

  The murmur of the crowd was positive, with heads nodding and voices shouting out, “You got it,” “No problem,” and “My lips are sealed.”

  The sound of the television from the den caught Buddy’s attention. He wandered in to join a handful of people watching the news.

  “They’re talking about Emerald’s stalker,” Trunk said.

  Buddy leaned against a wall and took a slug of beer as the reporter went on with the story. Emmy joined him, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  “The police are seeking information on this man.” The camera cut to a photo. “Robert Carson. Anyone having information about his whereabouts is asked to call this number.” The shot changed to a slide with an eight-hundred number. “He’s threatened Emerald, winged a cop with a bullet, and is known to be armed. Do not approach Mr. Carson if you see him. Call the police. Emerald has been in seclusion with friends. She’s safe. But for how long, as long as this man is at liberty?”

  Emmy left the room. Someone switched off the television, and everyone started talking at once. Some offered their homes to Emmy. Others offered to hire security guards.

  The quiet outside drew Buddy’s attention. He strolled out to the deck, but almost dropped his teeth at the scene he saw there. Emmy was standing in the middle, and Chrissy was speaking in a loud voice, jabbing her finger in Emmy’s shoulder.

  “I was dating him before you came around. You want to fuck him, go ahead. Every guy’s a star-fucker sometimes. Then get out. Because Buddy’s mine. Got that?”

  Emmy’s face turned red. “Buddy was mine while you were in high school, sweetheart.” She shifted her weight, placing her fist on her hip.

  “I don’t care. Leave him alone,” Chrissy whined.

  Buddy ran up and edged himself between the women. He turned to Chrissy. “I’m not yours, Chrissy. I’ve told you that over and over again. We were temporary. Now, we’re done.”

  “No!” she screamed. Tears gushed from her eyes. “No, no. I don’t believe that. I love you, Buddy. And I know you love me.”

  Buddy placed his hands gently on her upper arms and walked her backwards toward the door. Emmy’s f
ace stayed red. She looked like she’d explode at any moment. He needed to get Chrissy away before a fight broke out. “Please, go home, Chrissy.” He spoke quietly, so only she could hear him. He reached around behind her and turned the knob. They stepped out into the cool air.

  She fell against him, sobbing. “But I love you.”

  “You think you do. You don’t, really. You just love the idea of being with a football player. You don’t know the real me, Chrissy. It’s been fun. I like you, a lot. But that’s all.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she brushed away her tears. Her mouth curled down in a nasty grin. “Just a fuck and run, huh?”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow. “If it wasn’t love and it wasn’t that, what was it?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t give it a name. We had fun. You’ll find someone else, someone who’s looking for a pretty chick like you.”

  “But not you, huh?”

  “Not me. I’ve always loved Emerald. Always.”

  “Liar,” she spat at him. “I’ll get you. Or her. You’ll be sorry.” She flashed him the finger before she turned and stalked away, her shoulders set proudly and her butt swishing.

  Buddy breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt and went back inside. Close call. Who invited her? Once on the deck again, he saw Robbie Anthony’s girl grab her bag and head for the door, throwing a guilty look his way. Why, that little bitch. I guess the cheerleaders stick together.

  Emmy was talking with Lauren and Griff. The quarterback had his arm slung around his wife’s shoulders, while hers circled his waist. Will I ever have what they have? Buddy got another beer and tried to get his spirits up. Sneaking up behind Emmy, he snaked an arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

  “Married people don’t do that stuff in public,” Griff sniffed.

  “You’ve been married for about five minutes, so don’t get all high and mighty with me.”

  Lauren nudged her husband in the ribs. “It’s cute. Let ’em alone.”

  “I bet he’s an animal behind closed doors,” Buddy said, socking his friend in the shoulder.

  At ten o’clock, they closed down the party. Everyone had practice the next day. Emmy started to clean up, but Buddy took her hand and headed toward the bedroom.

  “Leave it. Gert comes tomorrow.”

  “But Buddy, that’s not fair.”

  “The hell it isn’t. I pay her well, and I’m not here half the time. Besides, I’ve got to get to bed, and I need some alone time with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Like you didn’t know?” He snickered.

  She grabbed one of the shopping bags and disappeared into the bathroom. When she came out, she was wearing a black and pink nightie that barely covered her behind. It was almost transparent with panels in pink edged in black lace. Buddy, sitting up in bed, gave a low whistle when she approached.

  “Wow. That was worth every penny.”

  “Knew you’d like it.” She strutted back and forth in front of him.

  “I love it. Now take it off.”

  Emmy crawled up the mattress like a panther. “You take it off.”

  Buddy let out a low growl and reached for her.

  * * * *

  Emmy cracked her eyes open and yawned. Buddy was dressed, with his small duffle over his shoulder. He leaned over to kiss her.

  “You’re leaving already?”

  “It’s time. You were great last night.”

  “Me? Christ, Buddy, four times?” She propped up on her elbows.

  “I’ve been waiting for years.”

  “I know, but really.” She chuckled, flexing her thighs, grinning at the slight soreness between them.

  “Love you, babe. I’ll be home about four.”

  “I’ll be here.” She pushed up in bed. Buddy stopped to fondle her breast, kiss it then her lips, and pat her cheek before he made tracks to the front door.

  She snuggled down again, wrapping her arms around his pillow and breathing deeply. His scent teased her nose. Emmy closed her eyes, reliving the most passionate night of her life. Buddy had been a love machine, an animal who couldn’t get enough of his woman. And she had loved every single caress, every thrust.

  She sighed, grinning like a hyena. As she buried her face into the soft plumpness, the thought of living with Buddy went to the top of her wish list. Mrs. Elroy Carruthers. Mrs. Buddy Carruthers. I like the sound of that. She had come full circle. From love to hate and back to love again. They’d have to figure out a way to make it happen.

  At eleven, she heard the scratching of Gert’s key in the lock. She jumped out of bed and into the shower. When she came out, wrapped in Buddy’s robe, the older woman greeted her.

  “Must have been some shindig last night.”

  “It was. I’m so sorry we didn’t clean up. Let me help you.”

  “Get dressed, and we’ll talk.”

  As they worked together, Gert asked her a thousand questions about what it was like to be a rock star and to have a handsome football player as her lover. Emmy tried to answer honestly, at least the ones that didn’t embarrass her. Gert sighed as she washed platters and cleaned the grill. Emmy loaded the dishwasher with glasses and turned it on.

  When they finished, Gert made them some lunch and lemonade. A sudden fallish, cool breeze kept them eating indoors. After the last bite of her sandwich, the doorbell rang. Blitz immediately started barking.

  “Would you mind?” Emmy asked. “I’m afraid if it’s Robert Carson…well, you know.”

  “No problem.” Gert wiped her hands on her apron and opened the front door while Emmy kept the pug back.

  A microphone was thrust in the housekeeper’s face. “Where’s Emerald? We’ve been told she’s staying here.” The reporter pushed by Gert and entered the house, followed by a cameraman.

  “Hey, you can’t come in here!” Gert jumped in front of the newswoman and tried to push her back.

  The dog broke loose. He barked and growled at the intruders, bringing them up short.

  “Muzzle that mutt!”

  “He agrees you shouldn’t be in here,” the older woman said, pulling the pooch back by his harness.

  “I’m already here, aren’t I? Now, where is she?”

  “She’s not here.” Gert folded her arms over her chest, her face flushed with anger.

  Emmy had scampered into the den and cracked the door open to watch the proceedings.

  “You’re lying. Do you want to be caught on national TV, lying?” The woman thrust the mic once more into Gert’s face.

  “I’m not saying anything. You don’t have permission to be here. You’re trespassing.”

  “Tough shit, old woman. Get out of my way!” The reporter pushed Gert to the side.

  I can’t continue to hide and let Gert get hurt. Emmy primped her hair then stepped out of her hiding spot. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. So, she’s not here, eh?” The woman threw a nasty look at Gert. “Well, well, Emerald, we found you.”

  “So? And by the way, how did you find me?”

  “A little birdie told me.”

  “Look, if you want me to give you an interview instead of calling the cops, you’d better tell me right now how you got this address.”

  The newswoman checked a small notebook. “A woman named Chrissy. Ring a bell?”

  Emmy felt her face flood with color. “You might say that. What do you want to know?”

  “What are you doing here? Did Robert Carson threaten you? Where will you go now that he can find you?”

  “Hey, one question at a time. First, I’m here visiting an old friend.”

  “Old friend?” The woman snorted.

  “I went to college with Buddy Carruthers.”

  “And now you’re going to bed with him?”

  “Look, if you’re gonna be snotty, this interview is over.”

  “Wait, wait. Okay. Are you serious with th
is guy?”

  “We’re just friends. I needed a place to get away from Robert Carson, and Buddy offered. Now that you’ve shown up, I need to find another one until they locate him.”

  “What about your concerts?”

  “I’ll be there. I never miss a performance.”

  “What about Carson?”

  “I’m hoping he won’t. Now that you’re gonna broadcast my location, I need to pack up and leave. Could you go?” Emmy made shooing motions with her hands.

  “Just a few more questions.”

  Emmy rolled her eyes. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re really not sleeping with Carruthers?”

  “He’s just a friend. How many times do I have to say it?”

  The reporter raised her palms. “Okay. Just making sure.”

  The interview continued for several minutes until Emmy backed the aggressive newswoman out of the house, slammed the door, and locked it. “Gert. I have to leave. Please tell Buddy what happened.”

  “I’m sure he’ll see it on the news.”

  “Tell him that little bitch, Chrissy, turned me in.”

  “I certainly will. Good luck, Miss Emerald.” Gert stuck out her hand.

  Ignoring the gesture, Emmy embraced the thin woman. “Thanks for everything.” Blitz jumped up on her leg, wagging his tail. She smiled and stooped to pet him goodbye. He licked her face.

  Then, the rock star opened her phone. “Yeah, Stash. Come and get me. News media’s been here. By the time you get here, Carson may be on his way.”

  She snapped her cell shut and sighed. Her time with Buddy had been so special, and it was over too soon. In an hour and a half, Stash was outside tooting the horn. Emmy grabbed her bags, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly while Gert opened the door.

  There were three news vans parked outside. The cameramen and reporters jockeyed for position, trying to get close to Emmy. They elbowed each other out of the way, pelting her with questions while she scurried down the walk toward the waiting SUV.

  One did manage to block her retreat. “Just a few questions, Emerald.”

  “Shoot.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and replied to questions she had already answered earlier.