Cross of Ivy

by Roxi Bahar Hewertson

  Zach was feeling lightheaded. He knew they could win, should win easily. Cornell’s rookie coach, the youngest coach in the League, Jake Hambacher was just beginning to rebuild his team. He was four and five on the season, and Zach had no intention of helping him even it up. Cross’s head coach felt confident, unbeatable, laughing all the way to the bench.

  Cornell won the toss and opted to let Cross receive first into the wind. The home team plowed through them, all the way to Cornell’s ten-yard line in less than four minutes. Hambacher called a time out, making Zach laugh.

  “He’s one worried teddy bear!” He patted the back of his quarterback, Matt Roman.

  Zach planned to run the ball a few more yards and then pass in the end zone to his All-Ivy receiver. As the second down play got under way and the crowd was on its feet yelling “D R A G O N S” over and over, Hambacher set up a blitz with eight men on the line and sacked Zach’s quarterback. The next play, the Dragons went for the pass. Hambacher read it, and his tallest defensive back intercepted in the end zone and ran sixty yards down the field. The momentum turned instantly. Three downs later Cornell scored.

  Play after play, the Dragons executed well, only to be spoiled before the score. Zach was near hysteria, yelling at the officials, yelling at the coaches, dragging his headphones up and down the sidelines. At the half, Cornell 10 – Cross 0.

  In the locker room Zach let loose.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on out there?” He was hoarse from screaming. “This isn’t a goddam day at the beach! I want points and lots of them. You have thirty minutes to wipe those pansies off the field. Do it!”

  Stuart was in the locker room, furious. He scowled at the players, looking up to everyone from his much lower vantage point.

  “We’re going for the gold here, men. This is my team, and don’t you forget it. I want a big ‘W’ out there. Get your asses in gear.”

  The third quarter was a disaster. Cornell came out on the field more fired up than they had been all season. Jake Hambacher’s pep talk had inspired them.

  “You have ‘em running scared. So far, we beat their game plan. They’re gonna adjust, and we’re gonna be ready for anything they give us. Think of it as the first game of a new season and you guys are in control. Think of the long ride home. Think of what it’ll be like to take home a win today. These shitheads are cocky. They don’t think they can be beat. And believe me, nothing tastes better than beating an arrogant bastard. Get out there and play the best game of your life. Seniors, this is it, your last chance to shine. Kick ass and take names. We’re all real proud of you, so get out there and do it!”

  Cornell took every ploy Zach threw at them and caused him heartburn, forcing turnovers, forcing him off his game. The penalties against Cross added up, and Zach was nearly thrown out of the game for swearing at the officials. It was a massacre on the field. Final score, Cornell 28 – Cross 0.

  Jake Hambacher walked across the field to shake hands with Zach. “Just a fluke, Zach, good game.”

  “Bullshit! You cleaned our clocks, you son-of-a-bitch. Can’t wait to see you next year.” He barely shook Jake’s hand and hurried to the locker room where he met Stuart’s glare.

  “Shit, Stu, I don’t know what the hell happened. Cornell, shit. I need a drink.”

  “Tough loss, Zach,” Ric said. “But a great season. Hey, we still bring home a championship. Let’s go congratulate the players on a great season.”

  “Shutout. Jesus Christ. I can’t believe it!”

  In the box, high above the stadium, all the wives were filing out; sadness and defeat hung heavy on their faces. Before they left, Abby reminded all of them about the party.

  “See y’all later. Maybe a little bubbly will make everybody feel a little better.”

  “Is that what you really think, Abby?” Bobbie piped up, looking at her sideways, her sarcasm obvious.

  “You’ll never know what I really think.” Just looking at Bobbie made Abby nauseous. But she mustn’t know. Nothing was wrong. Abby smiled flatly. Zach’s wife and his mistress left their seats and exited in opposite directions.

  When Abby arrived home, Claire had already let herself and her help inside with Abby’s key. She was busily unpacking her fruit trays, stuffed mushrooms, and ready-to-bake breadsticks. The array of delicious creations was impressive. Abby was always amazed at Claire’s completely new collection of delicacies.

  “Well, I bet the liquor goes before the food tonight,” Claire said without emotion. “How you holding up, girl?” Her concerned eyes followed Abby around the kitchen.

  “I’m fine,” Abby lied. “I’m going to change for the party, Claire. I have a miserable headache, so I might lie down for a few minutes. If you don’t see me in an hour, send out the troops.”

  “Good. You don’t need to lift even one of your fingers tonight. I got lots of hands here, and I don’t want you in my kitchen!” Claire said as she gently pushed Abby out the kitchen door.

  Abby stripped off her clothes, gulped down a valium with her drink and collapsed on the bed.

  CHAPTER 32

  Zach drove in half an hour before party time. He straight-lined it to the bar, poured himself a Glenfiddich on the rocks and stomped up the stairs to the master bedroom. His size thirteen foot kicked the door open.

  “Damn! The last thing I need tonight is a friggin’ party.” He said this more to himself than to Abby, who was applying her make-up in between sips of wine.

  “You really think putting any of that crap on your face is gonna make a difference?”

  Abby reddened but didn’t look at Zach, though she could see his movement in the mirror.

  “I’ll see you downstairs. The guests will be here in less than half an hour. You can cry in your bourbon later.” She stood up and walked to the door. He grabbed her arm and glowered down at her.

  “It’s Scotch, and you’d think the coach’s wife would be a little more sympathetic, show a little concern maybe.” Anger spewed from his bloodshot eyes.

  “I wasn’t aware you remembered you had a wife. Now let go of me; I have things to do.” Abby’s voice was tight, her face drawn. She’d hoped to be finished and downstairs before he came home, but she’d slept too long. Claire had had to shake her from her quiet hiding place.

  “Bitch,” he said after she left. She had always been able to do that to him, just turn on the ice water without warning. Tonight, she was colder than usual, but he dismissed it. Thoughts of Bobbie warmed him; she would be there tonight, and he would steal a few minutes with her.

  If it was possible, Bobbie was more hungry for him than he was for her. She was so intense, bringing him to climax faster than he expected time and time again. Bobbie always surprised him with something new. She would come to him with nothing on under her well-tailored suit. Once she stuck edible bangles on her breasts, which she made him devour one bite at a time before he could touch her. She raked his skin with her long, painted nails and presented her soft, round derriere for him to anoint with warm almond oil.

  Bobbie Jansen intoxicated Zach. The fact that she was another man’s wife was of no importance. He wanted her. She wanted him. He’d given up the others for her, even the ripe little cheerleader who had enjoyed the company of more than one of his players. An out-of-town hooker now and then was his only exception.

  Zach’s insatiable ego and sexual appetite made him easy pickin’s for his mistress. She rubbed up against him at every opportunity. Her sumptuous breasts greeted him, brushing by his arm, or standing very close, she whispered what she would do to him next time, and he would feel his desire rise. At night, she called him in the office with her version of the obscene phone call. She sat next to him at dinner parties so she could move her leg against his, and when she knew he was watching, she ran her long graceful fingers over her thighs, squeezing them and licking her top lip ever so slowly, her eyes glued to his groin. Every time she came near him, his passion came alive.

  He reasoned that it wasn’t hi
s fault—Abby was frigid. A man needed to have his needs met, and if not by his wife, then by someone who appreciated all he had to offer. It was only natural. He had no regrets. All the women he’d bedded benefited from his skills and appreciated them, everyone but his “tight-assed” wife.

  There were some who noticed. Stuart Leer was one of them. Zach told his mentor that Bobbie gave him the best “trimmin’” he’d ever had.

  Stuart laughed and then warned, “Be careful with her; she’s a vixen. She wants to hang your balls on the wall for her trophy collection. You know what they say, Zach. Don’t shit where you eat.”

  But Zach didn’t care, and there was no turning back. He’d hired Bobbie on the spot the day she walked into his office. At first he’d just made a few remarks about how she was dressed. Then he started telling her off-color jokes when she brought his mail. She seemed to brush it off at first, brush him off. He wanted her even more, and he knew she knew it. After about a year of playing innuendo games, Zach couldn’t wait anymore. He called her desk from his private line.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I wanna take you higher than you’ve ever been. I’m gonna give you a big, fat raise, buy you a big, fat steak, and have you for dessert, if you’re willin’, that is.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  “Well, then, it’ll be awful hard to find somebody new, and I’d miss you.”

  “I see. Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?”

  “That’s my girl. Uh, the old man’s out of town for the week, right? What are you doin’ tonight?”

  “I’m having steak. And you?”

  “I’m havin’ dessert.”

  That night they drove separately to Burlington and checked into separate rooms. Zach covered his tracks by telling Abby he’d received a call from an alumnus who wanted to have dinner at his hotel. “Can’t turn down a check for the team,” he’d said. If it got to be too late, he would stay over and see her the next day. On the drive down, Zach imagined what it would be like to crawl between the sheets with Bobbie. By the time he got there, he needed a cold shower to calm down. When she opened her door for him, he wasn’t disappointed.

  For three years, they’d played this game; only now they were doing it in his office, in his car, at her house when her husband, Sam, was away on a construction job.

  Sam was oblivious when it came to Bobbie. She fulfilled his needs, and he enjoyed their lovemaking. He had no way of knowing she saved her best gymnastics for her lover, her boss - his friend. Sam worshipped Zach. He saw him as the perfect coach, a “good ol’ boy,” a real “man’s man.” Zach had given his construction business a huge boost with referrals all over the state. The fact that Bobbie loved her job made things just that much nicer for everybody in his opinion. The idea that she was bedding Zach never crossed his mind.

  Before the after-game party, Zach changed his clothes, descended the stairs and freshened his drink. He wandered over to the fireplace and began the ritual of starting a roaring blaze. He loved starting fires, soothing, warm. Someday he would take Bobbie from behind in front of a fire. Just the thought thrilled him, and “Big Boy” began to stir.

  The doorbell chimed. Zach’s daydreaming came to an abrupt stop, and he turned to answer it.

  “Everything is under control, Abby,” Claire said. “You just try to have a nice time.”

  “Why, of course I will. My savior is in the kitchen, and my hero is answering the door. What more could I ask?” Abby said over her shoulder.

  “There ain’t no heroes no more, missy. And don’t you forget it. Go on now. Leave me to my work.”

  By eight o’clock, dozens of cars were lined up on either side of the road. Players, girlfriends, Ric and Ginny, alumni and their wives, a few faculty, most of the athletic department administration. Zoe and Luke had just arrived, and everyone was mingling, drinking, eating, and getting “face time,” as Zoe called it.

  Zoe pulled her mother aside.

  “They just want to say they got invited and that they were here for ‘the party,’ and they want to tell their friends the inside story about how Daddy is taking the loss and what food you had. Any old tidbit will do. And by tomorrow noon everybody who wasn’t here will know everything that happened.”

  “Oh, don’t be so hard on them, Zoe. After all, a lot of these folks have been with us in the bad years, too, and they deserve to have some fun.”

  “Mother, don’t you ever see the seamy side? I mean, it’s real nice and all, but not everyone out there is your friend, you know. You need to keep on top of the jerk ratio.”

  “Well, let’s just have a nice time tonight, okay? Have you seen your father?”

  “No, not for a while. Maybe he went to the garage for more beer. We might as well hand out straws the way they’re going through it.”

  “I expect your Alan is wondering where you are.”

  “Oh, no, are you kidding? He’s in there rubbing shoulders with the team. He won’t even notice I’m gone for an hour.”

  Abby looked around for Zach. She had seen Bobbie and Sam come in. Bobbie went right to Zach as he greeted them at the door and kissed him on the lips, in front of anyone who might be watching. Sam laughed. Abby’s skin shriveled.

  An hour had passed since the Jansens arrived. Abby saw Sam, but not Bobbie or Zach. A pit began to form in her stomach. She went to the garage, looked outside, shivered from the cold and came in again. Abby was determined to find them, but she had no idea what she’d do if she did. As she entered the house through the garage, she heard whispering. One of the voices was Zach’s. She crept closer to the unlit mudroom.

  “I swear she said, ‘depends on what game we’re playing’ and before she left, she said I didn’t know what she thought and I never would. She was downright cold, Zachy. I think she suspects something,” Bobbie said.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what she thinks. Don’t worry about it, baby. Zachy will take care of you, all of you.” He had his hand inside her low-cut dress, and he bent down to take her breast in his mouth when he heard footsteps in the hall.

  “Who the hell is that?” he whispered and straightened up, irritated to be interrupted mid-lust.

  Abby reached in and flipped on the light, startling the lovers as their eyes squinted and adjusted to the brightness.

  “You’d better go, Bobbie. Your husband is looking for you,” Abby said with tight lips. She stared right through Zach’s mistress.

  “Bobbie and I were just talking about...about the game and how the staff’s taking it, Ab. Don’t go jumping to any stupid conclusions.” Zach was stumbling for words and failing miserably. Bobbie looked at Zach. He shrugged his shoulders, and she brushed past Abby without a word.

  “Not in my house in full view of my children. Do you hear me, Zach? If you want to screw that slut, I can’t stop you, but not in my house.”

  She was red with fury; the little blue veins in her forehead and neck were throbbing.

  “Hey, Sugar, it’s not what you think. I mean, Bobbie and Sam are friends, and I wouldn’t do anything—she just had too much to drink and got a little carried away, that’s all.”

  “Save it, Zach. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not blind and dumb. Don’t insult me with crap like that. That trash is never to come in my house again. I mean it, Zach. Or I’ll tell Sam. I swear I’ll tell him all about your little talks with his wife.”

  “Listen, Ab, it’s you I’m married to, okay? If I get out of line now and then, well, it’s just the pressure of the job. I mean, I give you everything you want, don’t I? Besides, you’re the one who stopped being a wife a long time ago. Don’t blame me if I get a little lonely once in a while. There’s nothin’ to it. She don’t mean nothin’ to me, and I meant it when I said I wouldn’t do Sam in. I mean, shit, I got him all kinds of work, didn’t I? I mean, c’mon, Abby, it’s nothing. Don’t make somethin’ out of nothin’.”

  “I’ve lived with your cattin’ around
for a long time. You think I didn’t notice? Well, you’ve never stooped so low. I put up with a lot from you, Zach, but I’m drawing the line right here, right now. Not in my house and not in front of my children.” Abby wanted to throw up, but she wasn’t finished.

  “And one more thing. You tell all those people you invited that I have a migraine, and went to bed. I suggest you act like the host for the rest of the night and keep your hands off the rest of the wives.” She glared at him, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. “I hate you for this!”

  She climbed up the back stairway to her room.

  Ginny Houston was the only one to see her go.

  Ric was talking to Stuart Leer and another well-heeled alum when she interrupted. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Ric, could I see you for a minute?” Ginny said as calmly as she could.

  “When my bride calls, I run. She keeps me on my toes.” He smiled at her and the men, but he knew Ginny would never pull him away from a conversation without good reason. She walked him towards Zach’s study on the far side of the house.

  “Ginny, what is it?” he asked.

  “Three people came out of the mudroom a few minutes ago. First Bobbie Jansen, then I heard Abby and Zach talking, but I don’t know what was said, then the light went out and Abby ran upstairs, and then Zach popped out looking like he’d been caught with his hand in the candy jar. Ric, he was doing something, and I think we both know what it is. Jesus, his own secretary, how disgustingly ordinary and stupid. How could he? And here!”

  “Are you sure?” Ric asked. “Of course you are, or you wouldn’t be telling me. Jesus, I’ve got to nip this thing, or it’ll get us good.” Ric Houston looked around, lowered his voice and said, “I can’t say I’m completely surprised. Bobbie’s hit on everybody who’s anybody since she got here.”