The Bridge to a Better Life

by Ava Miles

  He’d forgotten about that. Yeah, junk food had been an important part of bonding. “I’ll keep that in mind. I also will have some medical volunteers on hand. We’ll have some training on special medical issues to be aware of the day before camp starts. All the kids will have had physicals clearing them to play, but muscular, breathing, and cardiac issues can appear out of the blue.”

  That’s always the way it had happened with Adam. He’d be fine one day, and the next…

  “We’ll be vigilant, Blake,” Sam said, knowing better than anyone the ups and downs they’d experienced with Adam’s health.

  “Thanks. Okay. Any questions?”

  He answered a few questions, which included a liberal amount of playful banter. Finally Jordan stood and put his hands on his hips.

  “Who’s ready for the Smuck competition?” he boomed out in his best TV announcer’s voice. “I think our surprise guest is waiting outside.”

  Blake groaned out loud. God only knew what his buddy had in mind for the competition. Some of the guys followed Jordan out. Sitting down in the chair Logan had vacated, Blake kicked out his feet.

  “Twenty bucks he rented some clowns,” Sam said.

  “Perish the thought!” Blake exclaimed. “What does he expect us to do? Juggle?”

  The guys were hooting in the hallway. Then Grant let out a high-pitched girl scream.

  “It’s not clowns,” Sam said.

  The guys danced into the room, wiggling like nervous dipshits. After a few seconds, Jordan strutted after them, a boa constrictor wrapped around his waist.

  Blake’s whole body shivered. Shit. He hated snakes, and Jordan damn well knew it. Their eyes locked, and he saw the same fierce competitiveness he was used to seeing in the mirror before a game gazing back at him. Jordan wanted him to go down and bad.

  “Okay, who’s going to be the biggest Smuck this time?” Jordan asked as the snake’s— What in the hell should he call the fifty-year-old woman in the khaki uniform who had followed Jordan into the room and was standing in a military stance beside him? Its babysitter?

  “Guys, this is Zeus. He’s a thirteen-foot boa constrictor from Brazil.” Jordan grabbed the back of the snake’s head like he was shaking it in greeting.

  Blake could only stare in horror as the army-green body colored with brown and cream spots clenched and rippled around Jordan’s waist.

  “Shit, man,” Zack said with a wheeze. “I know you have it in for Blake, but do you have to make the rest of us suffer?”

  Grant launched into some colorful Snakes on a Plane quotes in the worst Samuel L. Jackson impression known to mankind. All of the guys laughed—except for Blake.

  “I’m going to kill you, Jordan,” Blake ground out.

  “So, you want to go first?” Jordan replied with a grin. “Great! Guys, this is Alice. She’s a…herpetologist from the Denver Zoo.”

  “Say that three times fast,” Logan called out. “Hi, Alice.”

  The woman didn’t crack a smile. Snake Woman was serious, and who could blame her? She hung out with giant snakes that could crush a man’s larynx in ten seconds. The Raiders should draft her.

  “How many pounds did you say Zeus was again?” Jordan asked.

  “Fifty-eight,” Alice informed them in what had to be her best lecture voice. “And here’s a little known fact about the difference between males and females. Females are larger in length and girth than males.”

  Hunter snorted beer out of his nose. Brody barked out a laugh. Even Sam’s mouth twitched.

  Okay, so Snake Woman had a sense of humor.

  Jordan pretty much laughed like a loon. “Alice, you naughty, naughty girl, you.”

  “Let’s take the snake out back,” Blake suggested.

  There was no way in hell he was letting Jordan accidentally let that snake loose in his house. He didn’t wait for the guys to follow him. He felt something on the back of his neck and freaked, thinking it was the snake. It was only Grant, tickling his neck, a stupid grin on his face.

  “You all planned this together,” he accused.

  “Not everyone was in on it, but yes, we had to get creative. You’re pretty much indestructible when it comes to the Smuck competition. We had to take you down, Blake.”

  Hunter walked by with a bounce in his step. “By any means necessary. Oh, this is going to be so good.”

  “Just remember,” he warned, pointed his finger at them one by one. “You have to hold that bastard too.”

  “Please, Blake,” Jordan crooned. “You’ll hurt Zeus’ feelings.”

  He shot him a gaze that would have made most men tremble. Jordan only lifted the snake higher around his waist.

  “Hey, Brody, if this snake wasn’t male, it would remind me of that yoga teacher you dated in college. You remember the one I mean? She was like some freaking contortionist.”

  The wide receiver gave a deep sigh. “How could I forget? She could actually touch the top of her head with the soles of her feet while blowing bubble gum. I wonder what ever happened to her.”

  Jordan cleared his throat, which doubled as a way to mask his laughter. “Okay, who wants to go first? I obviously have the record so far. What has it been? Like eight minutes so far.”

  “Yep,” Logan said, holding out his smartphone. “We started the count the minute Zeus wrapped himself around Jordan.”

  Convenient. Blake crossed his arms across his chest. No way he was going first.

  “Okay, Blake can go last since he’s never been the Smuck.”

  Alice looked a bit amused as she helped Jordan unwrap Zeus from his body. The snake’s tongue slithered out and touched the woman’s face. He flinched, and some of the guys jumped back.

  “No f-ing way that snake is kissing me,” Zack said.

  “Oh, don’t be a baby,” Hunter said, stepping forward to take the snake. “Don’t you have big snakes and shit down in Louisiana?”

  “Do I look like I hang out in the bayou, Hunter Punter?” Zack replied, using their friend’s nickname from camp. Before his skills as a quarterback had become apparent, Hunter had been the punter. And he’d sucked. Bad.

  “Call me Hunter Punter again, Zack Sprat, and we’ll see who gets kissed by the snake.”

  Great. The childhood nicknames were coming out early this weekend.

  “Just take the damn snake, Hunter,” Blake said, “or this is going to last all day. We have somewhere to be tonight.”

  “Where are we going, Ace?” Logan asked.

  Okay, so Blake had a cooler nickname than some of the other guys. “I rented out part of the local Irish bar in town called Hairy’s.”

  “Awesome,” Brody said. “I’m assuming they have beer, pool, darts, and Irish music.”

  “Take it easy, Riverdance,” Blake replied. “They have that and more.”

  Hunter lasted a minute with Zeus. Zack clocked in at thirty-three seconds before yelping. And so it continued until they got to him.

  Jordan was still in the lead with eight minutes plus, but then again, he’d always had a reptilian brain. Mr. Cool, Sam, had managed to come close at six minutes and fifty-eight seconds. The snake had stared him down and started to curl around his neck, thereby ending the standoff.

  “He’s a smart one,” Sam muttered as Alice helped him resituate the snake on Blake.

  Breathing deeply, trying to clear his mind like he would before a high-pressure game, Blake tried to stay calm. But he nearly freaked when he felt the snake’s scales against the bare skin of his arm. Soon Zeus’ muscles were clenching around him, making every hair on his body stand up in high alert. Then there were the snake’s eyes as its head lifted to peer at him. They really were beady. A cold sweat broke out across his back, where he could feel the snake’s powerful muscles shift and clench around his body.

  “Snakes are ectothermic,” Alice informed them all in that instructor voice of hers, “so they really love being warmed up by the human body, especially the waist, which carries so much body heat.”<
br />
  Thank you for that PSA, Snake Woman, he wanted to say.

  But then Zeus darted up his chest, heading straight for his face. He started shrieking even before he felt the slithery tongue on his neck.

  “Okay, I’m the Smuck, I’m the Smuck!” he shouted. “Just get this thing off me!”

  The guys started howling, and Snake Woman stepped in and untangled Zeus from him.

  “Does anyone want to try and lift Zeus over their heads?” she asked.

  Grant shivered. “Ma’am, I can dead lift that snake four times over, but there is no way in hell I’m touching that sucker again. I’m going to have nightmares.”

  He wasn’t the only one. Someone tickled Blake’s back again, and he swung around to find Jordan smirking at him.

  “Twenty-three seconds, Ace. You lose…or should I say you ‘win’?”

  “You don’t have to be such a poor sport about it,” he muttered.

  “Oh, yes I do. I’ll be back with your award, sunshine.”

  Blake steeled himself for the worst humiliation possible.

  “This moment has been coming for years,” Sam said with a grin that did little to appease him.

  Judging from the grin on Jordan’s face as he sauntered back onto the deck, holding a white box, he knew he was going to pay and pay bad.

  “Thank you, Alice. We really appreciated having you here.” Jordan stuck something in her free hand.

  “Bye, fellas,” she said with a smile. “I have to say I was a little concerned when I got this request. Usually I visit children’s birthday parties, but I have to admit, you guys are a lot more fun than you look on TV.”

  Snake Woman left them without a backward glance, but Zeus watched Blake over her shoulder until she disappeared from view.

  As soon as she was gone, Jordan shoved the box at him. “It is my honor as the winner of the last Smuck award to hereby present this one to Blake Cunningham. May you enjoy your weekend in Smuckville.”

  He opened the box and cursed as he drew out a black T-shirt with pink letters on it that said Call Me Maybe, a pair of black 1980s Don Johnson Miami Vice sunglasses, hair mousse, and a hideous pair of acid-washed cut-off jeans.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said with a groan.

  “The mousse is inspired,” Logan said, leaning in for a closer look and elbowing Blake in the gut.

  He was supposed to stick that shit in his hair? “That’s one word for it.”

  “I’ll even help you style,” Jordan said, running his hands through his own perfect locks.

  According to the gossip and fashion blogs, no one in the whole NFL had better hair than Jordan Dean, and didn’t he know it. He was like James Dean’s hair twin, and they sometimes called him James instead of Jordan. Okay, and Jimmy Dean too, when they stooped for a little sausage humor.

  “No way you’re touching my hair, Dean,” Blake said even though he had no idea what to do with that gunk. And they were going out tonight. In public. Usually he wasn’t vain, but wearing this? People were going to think he’d experienced a nervous breakdown and was now living out some 1980s Don Johnson fantasy.

  “Oh, stop your bitching,” Jordan said, reaching out to tug his T-shirt. “You knew there was going to be payback.”

  He gave him a playful shove. “I can undress myself, thank you.”

  “Then hop to it, Ace,” Logan called out. “We don’t have all day.”

  He stripped in his backyard, making the guys cat-call and whistle like they were all twelve. As he changed into the outfit Jordan had chosen, he tried not to wince at the tight fit of the T-shirt. If he made any sudden moves, he was going to rip it at the shoulder seams and no way was he turning this monstrosity into a wife beater.

  “Too bad you couldn’t find a fake mullet for him,” Zack commented, stroking his chin as he circled Blake. “You could have doubled for Billy Ray Cyrus back in the day.”

  Don Johnson was bad enough. “You guys are dead meat,” he ground out.

  “Ohhh,” they all cried out, clutching themselves in fake fear.

  He was going to unleash practical jokes on the lot of them the likes of which they’d never seen. And lock himself in his bedroom before they could strike back.

  “When are we heading to the Irish place?” Sam asked with a way too cheerful smile.

  The plan was for them to eat at the bar, but now he was desperate to talk them out of going into town. Like that would work. The mob was hungry for his public humiliation.

  “Seven,” he told them.

  He glanced over at the bridge, wondering what Natalie was up to tonight. If she saw him like this or heard about the snake, she’d likely fall over laughing. Well, he had to wear the stupid costume all weekend, so she’d see him like this soon enough. Suddenly, the prospect of wearing this Don Johnson throwback outfit in public wasn’t so bad.

  Not when it was sure to make her laugh.

  Chapter 14

  Natalie found herself twiddling her thumbs at home on Saturday night. Her sisters were busy this weekend. Moira was at a wedding, and Caroline was hosting an art opening. While they weren’t back to being easy with each other yet, they’d checked in with her a couple of times during the week, which had made her feel better. Though it was awkward not to talk about the giant pink elephant of their argument, both of them had respected her privacy so far, and she appreciated that.

  Matt and Jane were out of town at a poker tournament where, according to Matt’s ongoing text updates to the family, she was kicking butt. Her mom was having a girls’ night with her own friends, many of whom she’d reconnected with after moving back into the area. And Andy…well, they hadn’t spoken since their talk at Black Lake.

  Around eight o’clock her phone buzzed. Seeing it was Andy, she had the horrible impulse to ignore his call. Which was exactly why she forced herself to answer it.

  “Hey, Andy Cakes,” she said, hoping to keep it light.

  “Hey. What are you doing right now?”

  She glanced at the TV program she’d paused before answering. “Watching an old episode of Friends.”

  “Oh brother. I’m saving you from Ross and Rachel drama. I decided to be spontaneous and see if the neighbor girl would come over and watch Danny. He’s asleep, so she was happy to agree to take my money to hang out at my place and watch cable. You and I are going out to play some pool or darts. Your choice.”

  “Are you hoping I’ll be your wing woman tonight?” she asked, trying to feel out his intentions for this brother-sister outing.

  “I said I would give it a try, and trying means getting out of the house on the weekends. Are you game?”

  “Sure. Why not?” What else was she going to do? Keep listening for more hilarity from next door through the open windows? The screams she’d heard this afternoon had made her very curious.

  “Meet me at Hairy’s,” he said. “We’ll see if you’ve lost your magic at the pool table.”

  “You wish.” Few could beat her at her favorite game. “See you in twenty?”

  That would give her time to put on something more suitable than her blue cotton jammies. If they were playing pool, she didn’t want to wear anything too dressy, maybe just jeans and a simple white T-shirt. She didn’t want to look like she was trying to pick anyone up.

  “Perfect. Don’t be late. I hate drinking alone in a bar.”

  Walking into a bar alone on a Saturday night could be awkward for anyone, even if you were meeting friends. How much worse would it be for a widower trying to return to the dating scene?

  “I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  Was that a relieved sigh she heard? “Thanks, Nat.”

  After changing her clothes and refreshing her makeup, she headed out. There was a new bumper sticker on the back of her car, courtesy of her brother, Matt.

  Worms Make Me Horny.

  Good Lord. Where did he find them? Probably the same place she did. On the Internet. She’d wondered if their ongoing bumper sticker war would
continue with all this Blake drama. Apparently their teasing hadn’t changed, and she was glad. She’d have to retaliate tomorrow, and she had the perfect one in reserve: I Dig Poker Chicks. She knew Jane would love that one.

  The warm glow of the town’s lights made her smile as she made her way down the foothills to the valley. It only took her five minutes to arrive at Andy’s house, which was one of the things she loved about small towns. Andy was already letting himself out of the house and jogging to her car. When he got in, he turned in his seat to face her.

  “I’ll only ask this because…well, hell. Am I dressed okay?”

  Ah, his vulnerability was touching. She patted his knee. “Jeans and a navy T-shirt look great on you.”

  He eyed her. “Good thing I didn’t wear white. We’d be twins.”

  She sped off. “Like we haven’t had people wonder about the whole twins thing before.”

  “I thought about asking our cousins to come, but I knew Jill couldn’t since Mia has an ear infection. She and Brian showed up with her at the ER yesterday because she wouldn’t stop screaming.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Poor baby.”

  “And Meredith’s getting way too pregnant to want to hang out in a bar on a Saturday night.”

  “Yeah, it would be pretty hard to tote that watermelon she’s carrying through the crush.” Besides, she had sexy Tanner to see to her needs. Why wouldn’t she stay home? “We’ll be fine on our own.” Don’t be so nervous, she wanted to tell him.

  Finding a parking spot on Main Street proved more difficult than she’d expected, and she had to settle for a spot on Aspen Street near the Justice Center. The night air was cool, and she was glad for her jeans. As soon as they showed their IDs and walked into the pub, she realized her open-toed sandals were less of a good idea.

  She’d been to Hairy’s Irish Pub hundreds of times. Tonight it was packed to the gills like she’d never seen it before. It wasn’t surprising that the booths were filled with people eating dinner, but even the bar area and the aisles were jammed with guests. Someone was going to step on her toes. It was a given. She stood on her tippy toes to see what was going on, but all she could see were camera flashes.