by Ava Miles
“It worked though, didn’t it?”
As they walked to the kitchen, Natalie glanced back at her sisters, who had hung back. Moira was talking with her hands, and Caroline was nodding.
Sure, they were talking again, but all was not well.
Not one bit.
Chapter 8
Blake was humming when he got home from a thirty mile bike ride up Sardine Canyon that had made his legs shake toward the end. Touchdown greeted him with happy barks. A sense of loss—heavy and deep—suddenly rolled through him when he realized what tune he was humming: the Raiders’ fight song.
The sight of the pine trees crawling up the stone of the mountain, swaying in the gentle summer breeze, was beautiful, but paired with the stark quiet inside him, it reminded him of how drastically his life had changed.
There would be no more running out onto the field with his teammates to do battle as nearly 40,000 people cheered. There would be no more team practices, no more joking around with the guys between plays to keep things light. There would be no more two-minute drills, preparing the team to surge forth to victory when they were losing. The glory was behind him.
He looked at his hands, his best friends for most of his life. They weren’t going to ache or cramp anymore from too many passing drills. They weren’t going to feel electric as he palmed the ball before he launched a fifty-yard pass. God, what was he going to do with himself all day?
His football camp was only going to be one week in July. Sure, there were plenty of preparations to make, but his people would be doing much of the work under his guidance. What else could he do in Dare Valley? He’d risen at six o’clock to start his day for over thirty years. Now, he was up at the crack of dawn with nothing more to do than run ten miles, bike in the mountains, lift weights, and do some yoga. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t going to be enough.
Even if Natalie… Correction. When Natalie came back to him, he would need to have more of a purpose.
Time.
He’d struggled against the clock for his entire professional career. He knew how long a minute or a second could be. How the action in that tiny speck of time could change an outcome.
He had too much time on his hands in Dare Valley and that had to change. Kelly had sorted through the offers that had come pouring in while he was in Vail, and new proposals continued to arrive by the hour. ESPN, Fox, and CBS had all wanted to meet with him to discuss a future as one of their NFL commentators. He’d turned them down nicely. He knew one thing for sure. He didn’t want to comment on football.
Of course, there had been tons of endorsement offers, some of which he could do without too much hassle. And then there had been the offers to coach. His old high school in Ohio had said they’d love to have him as their head football coach, and while he appreciated that—and the twelve other high school offers—it would mean living somewhere other than Dare Valley.
He’d received offers to serve as an assistant offensive coach in both the college and professional leagues, but again, he’d have to leave Natalie to do it.
Part of him still wasn’t sure he could make it as a coach. He wanted to see how well the camp suited him first—whether the role fit his skin, so to speak. Once he knew, he could face the geography issues.
The most interesting job offer had come in from the Special Olympics. He’d been a long-time contributor, so they already knew a great deal about Adam. After hearing about his camp, they’d asked if he would consider becoming the lead athletic director for flag football for North America, working with the various state chapters. But again, the job was at their headquarters in Raleigh, North Carolina, and it would involve a fair amount of travel.
The truth was, he needed more time to see how things would shape out with Natalie. Right now, he wanted, needed to be close to her.
Once camp ended, he would allow himself to look toward the future. Or—and his heart sunk to the floor at the very thought—once it became clear he and Natalie weren’t going to get back together.
He’d told Special Olympics that while he appreciated their offer, he was still trying to settle into his new life. They’d agreed to keep the door open for him and had offered their assistance with his football camp. Their support had meant the world, and he’d agreed to help them out with any smaller projects pro bono, so long as it didn’t involve travel. They’d asked for his feedback on their new flag football manuals, and he was stoked. It was a start.
“All right, Touchdown. I’m finished moping.” He smiled at his dog, who was busy chasing off a few squirrels. “Are you as thirsty as I am?”
The dog barked and scampered back to him. They were about to head inside when a blue Subaru pulled into his driveway. April Hale emerged from the vehicle with a soft smile on her face. Her salt-and-pepper hair was shorter than he remembered it, chopped to her chin, but it looked good on her. She wasn’t wearing her ring, he noticed, and he supposed it was something they had in common now. His own ring sat on the table by his bed, waiting for the moment when Natalie would slide it on his finger once again. He was a firm believer in the power of positive thinking. Most days.
“Hi Blake,” she said as she came across the gravel drive. “And hello Touchdown. Hope it’s okay I came by.” The dog rolled onto his belly immediately, and she gave him a few strokes before standing again.
“Of course, April. It’s always good to see you.”
He’d hoped she would come see him, but he’d realized it might be a pipe dream. April loved her kids first, last, and always, but she’d made room in her heart for Blake as another son.
“Blake, I was so sorry to hear about Adam. There are no words to say how much. He was such a dear man. I’ve been thinking about you and your parents a lot.”
“Thanks,” he said, feeling his throat grow thick. “That means a lot. Mom said you’d called. She and Dad were grateful to hear from you.”
“No parent should have to bury a child. Come here, honey,” she said and hugged him.
She was at least four inches shorter than Natalie, so he had to lean way down to hug her. Touchdown nestled against his leg, sensing he needed the comfort. He wiped away a few tears and sniffed when he shifted away from her.
“Well, now… You’re still looking fit as a fiddle, I see,” she said, playfully pinching his bicep like she’d often done in the past, trying to bring some humor into the tense moment.
He shrugged his shoulder, playing along. When Kim had been in the hospital, there had been a steady stream of joking or teasing to lighten the mood. He and his family had done the same with Adam. Otherwise, the atmosphere would have been too oppressive to bear.
“My friends are wondering how soon I’ll start to get fat now that I’m not playing.” Even he knew retirees lost some of their muscle mass, so he was trying to make peace with the change. No one could maintain the bulk of a professional athlete without being a professional athlete.
“I can’t imagine you ever getting fat. Not that you wouldn’t still be cute as a button with a few extra pounds around the middle like the rest of us.” She patted the small rise of her belly.
“Come on, April. You’ve had five kids, and you still look fabulous. Will you come inside for a drink?”
“I’d love to,” she said and followed him into the house. “How do you like it here? I imagine it’s a big change from the Denver house.”
Yeah, and he loved that place almost as much as he’d prized his first football. He planned to keep the house until he knew what his future held, but he would have to make a decision about it at some point. Without Natalie in it, it was like a faded old door, stripped of its original glory.
“This is fine.”
In truth, none of this new house felt like him. It was almost like he was living in a hotel suite with four acres. He planned to build a new place once he and Natalie reconciled, or at least that’s what he dreamed of doing. Sunlight streamed in through the skylights in the vaulted ceiling, and the mahogany wooden beams crossing the
ceiling gleamed in various shades of brown and red. The architect of this two-story craftsman had favored an open-rustic floor plan. There were worse places to live.
“What can I get you? I have water, juice, beer.”
“How about a beer?” she said and laughed when she saw his expression. “Just kidding. Water is fine.”
He added a lemon to it to be fancier and grabbed one for himself too. Drinks in hand, they headed out to the open flagstone deck in the back, where they settled onto the comfy tan patio furniture arranged in a square near the grill station and fire pit. The hot tub gurgled softly off to the right.
“It’s funny how different things are out here,” she said “I don’t know if I’d like the quiet. Or not being able to see another house. I’m a fraidy cat about remote places.”
“But you grew up in Dare Valley.”
“In town. Big difference.” She took a half sip of her water, bobbled the glass, and rose out of her chair as it splattered on her cream capri pants. “Oh, I’m so clumsy.”
She wasn’t usually. Which meant she was nervous. “Let me grab a towel.”
When he returned, she dabbed at the spot as best she could and finally laid the towel aside. “Well, you’re here.”
Only three little words, but they summed up his whole life right now. “Yes.”
“I’m glad actually. I’ve been worried about Natalie for some time…ever since Kim was first diagnosed. She hasn’t dealt with that—or leaving you. I can’t say I’m not worried about how she’s going to react to having you around, but I don’t think the status quo is good enough for her.”
No, it hadn’t been for him either. Even football couldn’t put a dent in the subterranean loss he’d felt when Natalie walked out of his life. The failure of Adam’s health, and his eventual death, had only made it worse.
“There’s already been some conflict in the family over your return. She fought with Moira and Caroline about you.”
He held his tongue, not wanting to get into the internal Hale family dynamics. He’d known his return would put pressure on her relationships, but he hadn’t seen another way.
“I talked to Andy and Matt.”
“Yes, they told me.” She reached for his hand. “I’m really happy to hear about your plans for this camp. Adam would be so proud. I bet your parents are too. It’s already the talk of the town.”
It surprised him more than it should have. The statement they’d released to the press had been picked up by national outlets. He’d wondered how the locals might react.
“I don’t know if I can help in any way, but I’d like to do something,” she told him, letting go of his hand with a gentle pat. “Maybe I can be a water girl.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, though it felt good to find humor in something. April Hale, a water girl? Now, that would be the day. But then he stopped to consider how his players would respond to a sweet, older lady. They might like it. “We’re still outlining our needs, but I’ll let you know.”
“Good. I’m here on another errand as well. I was a bit surprised to be called, but since you were my son-in-law once...”
Now, she’d piqued his curiosity. God, he hoped it wasn’t some fundraiser. He loved to support good causes, but he wanted to stay out of the public eye as much as possible at the moment, especially given how much Natalie seemed to dread gossip about their relationship.
“The head of the local school board called me to ask about your plans. I went to school with Cormack Daly way back, and he was always a big thinker, if you know what I mean.”
He didn’t, so he took a drink of his water and waited for her to continue.
“Cormack reminded me that the high school was looking for a new coach; he’s head of the selection committee. They let the last guy go because the administration wasn’t happy with the past couple of football seasons.” She shook her head. “This is so silly. I can’t even believe I’m asking you this.”
Now he saw where this was going, and his heart started to race.
“He wanted to know if you might consider coaching the high school team. They were about to make an offer to someone else, but then you showed up, and they decided to hold off. I told him I didn’t know your plans, but Cormack can be very bull-headed, and he insisted I ask you. If it’s crazy, I can tell him that without blinking an eye.”
A high school football coach in Dare Valley? He could stay close to Natalie. Then his belly knotted. “I don’t have any coaching experience.”
“Cormack didn’t care about that. He said, and I quote, ‘Quarterbacks lead men into battle, and if Blake Cunningham can lead the Raiders to the Super Bowl, he can lead a bunch of snot-nosed kids to the state championship.’”
“That was a pretty good imitation,” he said even though he had no idea if Cormack sounded like he had a deviated septum.
“So what do you think?” she asked.
“Did he mention when they’d want the new coach to start?”
She shook her head. “No, but if they were already that far along in the hiring process, they probably want someone soon.”
He frowned. His upcoming camp and Natalie were his two biggest priorities. And then there was the big question: did he want to coach? Could he be good enough at it to win? “Let me mull it over. My life…is still shaping up. I’m open to new possibilities.”
“And Natalie will be here for the foreseeable future,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.
“Yes, I know.”
“So you’re planning to stay?”
It was a question that kept him awake at night. How long was he willing to stay in Dare Valley if Natalie and he weren’t together? Would there come a day when he was forced to accept there was no hope? He stopped those negative thoughts right in their tracks. He needed to stay positive. Like he had always been about his career, about a game, about…winning Natalie after that first night he met her.
“I plan on staying as long as it takes and giving it my all,” he replied, his heart hammering in his chest.
She patted his leg and stood. “I figured as much.”
He rose as well.
“You always did cast a long shadow, Blake,” she commented, pointing to the Herculean one filling up most of the patio, beside which her own shadow seemed diminutive.
“Shadows are only illusions, April. It’s a person’s actual presence that counts.”
“Hmm. You always were a wise boy.”
Boy? He hadn’t been called that in a while, but to her, he supposed it was true.
“April, do you have any advice for me? About Natalie?” He wasn’t above asking for help, and her mother knew her in a way even he didn’t.
“Don’t back down. Natalie is so much like her father sometimes. I told her so the other day when we fought about you.”
She’d fought with her mom too? She never fought with her mom—or her sisters. Poor babe had to be shaking like a leaf inside for this to happen.
“I don’t envy you, Blake. She’s a tough nut to crack. Out of all my children, she’s the toughest, the most self-contained. You’re going to have to get her to crack about Kim’s death and her feelings for you if you want to give things another go. Neither will be easy.”
Tension coiled in his chest like a snake waiting to strike. “I know. That’s why I’m afraid I might fail.” Okay, he could confess that to her even if he didn’t like to admit it to himself.
“Fail? I’ve never once heard you talk like that, even when you were playing ball. If you lost a game, you always chose your words so carefully. You would say the other team played better, but you never referred to yourself or the team as losers or failures.” She kissed his cheek. “Remember that. I need to get back. I’m meeting some friends for a tennis game. Come by anytime you’re in town. I live at 22 Aspen Street near the Community Center right off Main Street.”
“I’m glad you came for a visit, April.” He walked out with her. “I missed you. All of you.”
As she opened her car door, she gave him a playful wink. “We missed you too, Mr. Fancy Pants.”
He laughed as she closed the door and drove off. Natalie had started calling him Mr. Fancy Pants years ago. She’d made sure he knew how unimpressed she was with his status as an NFL quarterback, and to prove it, she’d boldly dubbed him Mr. Fancy Pants. The first time she’d brought him home to meet her Raiders-loving family, she’d broken the tension by using that nickname in her introductions to everyone. From that point on, he’d felt like an adopted Hale and not some star quarterback they cheered for every Sunday.
As he went inside, he found himself whistling. Mr. Fancy Pants needed to come up with some meal suggestions for his party this weekend so he could share the list with his sexy caterer.
Could he entice Natalie to do something friend-like when he swung by to drop off the list and pick up Touchdown? As he entered the den, he caught sight of the red plaid throw on the Italian leather couch, one of the few things he’d brought from Denver as a reminder of better times. An idea formed.
She couldn’t refuse a trip down memory lane with her favorite book characters, and if it happened to remind her of the passionate sex life they used to have, what could it hurt?
Mr. Fancy Pants was on the case.
Chapter 9
One of the new nurses, fresh out of school, gave Andy a smile as he scrawled his name on the last chart on his rotation. She was interested in him and had made no bones about it. And she wasn’t alone. Being a widower and single dad apparently only made him dreamier to his female co-workers at Dare Valley General Hospital. He’d overhead a few nurses say as much in the break room. Some people had watched too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, if you asked him.
He’d never thought it was a good idea for doctors to date staff. When things went south, and often they did, simple interactions with patients could turn awkward, not to mention that a simple request for a scalpel during a surgery might be met with a frozen silence. None of that was fair to the patients who’d placed themselves in their hands.
