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Between Sundays

Page 29

by Karen Kingsbury


  He shook off the hit, but he was slow getting to his feet. His teammates were coming together in the next huddle when San Francisco called a timeout. Coach was pacing the sidelines as Aaron reached him.

  No more passing. Youre not ready. His voice was gruff, but his eyes were marked with fear. Another concussion at this point could leave permanent damage. Everyone knew that. Were going to a running game. He barked a few orders at one of the halfbacks and two of the running backs.

  Aaron couldnt argue. If that last pass was the best he could do, they had no choice but to switch up their game. But as the third quarter wore down, San Diego scored again, and at the start of the fourth, the 49ers trailed by eleven. During the TV timeout between quarters, Aaron pulled off by himself. It wasnt working, the revised strategy. He needed help and he needed it fast.

  Then suddenly it hit him. The idea of praying was still so new to him, he hadnt realized something. Derrick was praying for him, but Aaron hadnt prayed for himself. So he sat on the edge of the bench, dropped his head into his hands, and cried out to God the same way he had at Bakers Beach.

  I dont deserve this, God. I dont deserve anything from You.Aaron concentrated on finishing the prayer. I cant play the rest of this game without You, God. Im not asking for a win, just that Youd clear my head. Take away the dizziness. Let me see the field like never before. The words settled deep into Aarons soul. A strange peace and a knowing came over him. Hed done what he could do. Now he needed to play his game.

  It didnt happen all at once, but with third and eight on their own forty-yard line, Aaron called an audible. Long pass to the end zone. A few of the players raised an eyebrow, but they didnt argue. Based on the third quarter, San Diego was probably lulled into thinking Aaron wasnt going to do anything more tricky than a quick dump pass. But this time when he stepped back in the pocket, he saw with a clarity that couldve only come from God. His receiver was all alone, streaking down the field, and Aaron hit him with a pass that rivaled any hed ever thrown. The touchdown closed the gap to four, and the networks called another timeout.

  Hill! Coach Camerons face was beet red. He stormed over to meet Aaron as he jogged off the field. Whatre you doing? I told you no passes.

  Something happened. Aaron put his hands on his hips and tried to catch his breath. I can see clear now. I promise, Coach.

  I dont want you sacked, you understand? No blows to your head.

  My lines holding. It was my fault before. Aaron gripped his coachs shoulder. I asked God for vision, and He gave it to me. We have to play our game.

  Coach looked like he was about to pass out from the stress, but he nodded. Okay. Go with your gut. If its there, if you feel itcall it.

  The Chargers opened the fourth quarter with a touchdown, giving San Diego an eleven-point edge. Aaron felt himself narrowing in on what was needed, on the job ahead. With six minutes left, he used a couple audible passes to take San Francisco quickly into Charger territory. A running play for a touchdown meant the 49ers still had a chance.

  San Diego wasted three minutes on short runs for little yardage. Their punt put San Francisco on the four-yard line. One more chancethey had one more chance. Aarons head throbbed from the intensity and exertion of the game. He had to hold on, had to find a way to dig deep for one more drive.

  Okay, Hill. Coach shouted at him above the roar from the crowd. Less than two minutes and ninety-six yards to go. If anyone can do it, you can!

  Before he took the field, Aaron imagined Megan sitting in the stands. Megan who got up every morning before dawn to deliver papers on foot through the streets of San Francisco, and who walked miles each day to her job waiting tables.

  God, if You would give me half the determination of that woman, I know I can do this. Help me find itplease, God.

  A verse came to mind, something Megan had told him about during a phone call a few days ago. It was from the book of Isaiah. Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

  That was it! He would take the field with all the determination Megan had shown him, with the experience of mastering the two-minute drill season after season. But he would do it by waiting on the Lord. He sucked in a full breath as he ran out to the huddle. He still felt weary and faint, but God would have the final say over whatever happened in the next few minutes.

  A field goal wouldnt be enough, so everyone in the stadium knew Aaron was looking toward the end zone, and only the end zone. From the first snap, he followed Coach Camerons game plan. A short run, a breakaway for seven yards, another short pattern. Gradually, in what felt like painful slow motion, the team trudged up the field while the seconds fell away. Aaron could feel himself running on some power other than his own. Even still he wasnt sure if he could pass. The dizziness was back, and he couldnt hurt the team. The risk was too great.

  Finally, they inched into the red zone, the last twenty yards leading up to the goal line. Another few runs, a short pitch pass, and they were first and ten at the twelve with forty-six seconds to go. The next three running plays fell short, netting only a yard or two each.

  Aaron huddled the team and glanced at the clock. Five seconds to go, fourth-and-two. There was no point going for the first downtime would run out in the process and the game would be over. It was a touchdown or nothing. A TV timeout bought them a breather. Aaron looked at his team, and he knew what he had to do. San Diego had to be expecting a pass, no matter how exhausted Aaron looked or seemed. With the eyes of his teammates locked on him, Aaron took the risk of his career. Quarterback keeper. He felt the intensity in his stare. An intensity borne from the determination hed witnessed in a woman he would long for all the days of his life.

  Again, the guys didnt react. Never mind that this was how Aaron had been hurt in New Orleans. It was the last play the Chargers would be expecting, and for that reason, it had a chance. We need just four yards. He shouted his encouragement. We can do this! Come on guys, hold the line.

  His teammates nodded, gave a single clap, and lined up for the play. Aaron felt his knees shake as he dropped back with the ball and faked like he was going to pass left, and then right. Then as the slimmest window opened in front of him, he took off. One yard, and then twoand Aaron could see what was happening. His line was rising to the challenge, covering him, holding off the swarming defense like never before.

  Aaron kept pumping his feet, running, pushing for the end zone. Three yardsand then suddenly, he was across the goal line without being touched by a single Charger. The officials raised their hands and seventy-three thousand people were on their feet, screaming and cheering and hugging each other, crazed by what they had just witnessed. Aaron still had the ball tucked beneath his arm. Theyd done it; theyd won the Super Bowl. As his teammates circled him, hitting him on the back and shoulders and lifting him in their arms, he pressed his hand to his helmet and let the tears come.

  Because somewhere in heaven, a little boy named Lee was dancing with the angels and grinning down at his daddy. And in the trainers room in the depths of the stadium, Derrick Anderson was grinning too. Because no matter who made the winning score, Derrick had done something a father was supposed to do.

  Hed kept his promise.

  Megan and Cory were exhausted and thrilled. Theyd laughed and cried and hugged each other and everyone in Derricks family during those first wild moments as the 49ers won the Super Bowl. Cory had been beside himself. He did it, Megan! he shouted over the chaos around them. They won it all!

  The celebration had lasted long after the score and after the final seconds ticked off the clock. First, theyd waited as Coach Cameron accepted the Vince Lombardi Trophy, the one handed out each year to the winner of the Super Bowl, and now they watched while Aaron was awarded Most Valuable Player.

  Someone handed him the microphone, and a teammate slapped a Super Bowl C
hampions baseball cap on his head. Aaron grinned, his face ten stories high on the JumboTron screen. First I wanna thank God Almightynot so much for the winhe looked at the trophy and chuckledthough the wins pretty great. But I wanna thank Him for opening my eyes. He spoke another minute, thanking the fans and his teammates and the coaches. Then he put his hand on the smaller MVP award and raised the Super Bowl Trophy high in the air. This ones for Lee.

  Megan felt the slightest confusion. Then she remembered the conversation shed had with Aaron early in the season, before their falling out. Lee was Derrick Andersons son who had been killed in a car accident. Her eyes welled with tears again and her heart swelled with compassion for the man on the podium. A man who seemed at times like two different peoplethe one the world knew, and the one she alone had connected with.

  Aaron was about to step down from the platform when it happened. He faced the crowd and looked in their general direction, then with his first two fingers, he waved. Megan brought her fingers to her lips.

  There it is! Cory jumped as high as he could, pumping his fist in the air. He tapped the man next to him, shouting to be heard. That was for us, did you see that? Aaron Hill waved like that just for us.

  The mandecked in red and goldgave him a mildly disapproving look and then returned to cheering for the 49ers. Cory didnt care. He turned to Megan and hugged her, and then he waved at the screenas if Aaron could see them. The sounds around herstill loud and fullfaded as Megan, too, set her attention on the big screen. As he waved once more with their secret signal, two things hit her. First, he was Corys father and that wasnt going to change. It wouldnt happen overnight, but he would want Cory to live with him.

  And second, maybe he really was in love with her.

  As the celebration wound down and she and Cory finally arrived back at the hotel, Megan called the airlines and switched their flight to one leaving in a few hours. Though Aaron had hoped to meet up with them, she knew that would be impossible. He would be bombarded with TV and print interviews, and after all that, he would want to be with the team.

  Aaron needed his space. Besides, she didnt want Cory around a horde of media, not with the DNA test results pending. Cory didnt really understand the reason for the blood test. Shed told him it was necessary and that it had to do with matching his blood with Aarons.

  We dont need a test. Cory had been upset in the waiting room of the clinic, thinking he was being doubted again.

  I know, buddy. You look just like him. She patted his knee. But the test might help other people believe.

  But now, if it became public knowledge somehow, the scrutiny would be unbearable.

  Megan waited until they were about to board their late-night flight before she texted Aaron. Congratulations! We went home early, but well talk to you when you get home. Thanks for everything

  Once she sent the message, she turned off her phone and rested her head against the window of the plane. Cory was tired, and he closed his eyes as soon as he was belted in beside her. The flight was full of fans headed home, most of them deliriously happy with the teams fifth championship. Megan watched them, and then turned her attention to the slight boy in blue jeans beside her. The DNA results would come this week. And so, while for every other 49ers fan the adventure had come to a wonderful, miraculous ending, the same couldnt be said for Cory. Whatever the test results, his adventure was hardly over. It had just begun.

  She smiled to herself and once more she could feel Aarons arms around her, his eyes melting into her own. She stared at the seat in front of her and allowed herself to imagine. Because if she could learn to trust Aaron Hill, maybe the adventure ahead wouldnt just be true for Cory.

  But for both of them.

  THIRTY

  A aron paced from the kitchen to the front door of his house and back again. It was Wednesday and the results would arrive any time, thats what hed been told. A courier service was supposed to bring by the sealed envelope just after three oclock. He stared at the clock on the microwave: 3:10.

  He took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with cool water. His headache was fading, but it wasnt entirely gone. He downed the glass and gazed out the window at his backyard. He wasnt worried about the results, but they mattered. Because once they were in hand, he knew what he wanted to do. What he had to do.

  Even with the tension of waiting, he felt fantastic. Hed had time to think things through. During the media circus and yesterdays parade down the fan-lined streets of downtown San Francisco, he couldnt have been clearer about what he wanted next in his life.

  Very simply, he was in love with Megan Gunn. Once he had the results, he had the rest of the afternoon and evening all planned out. Not just what he wanted to tell her, but where he wanted to take her. After all, hed kept his part of the deal by winning the Super Bowl.

  There was the rumble of an engine from the front of the house, and Aaron caught his breath. He spun around and darted to the front door. A yellow delivery truck was pulling into his driveway, heading up to the front door. Aaron watched it park, his heart pounding, every breath just the slightest drink of air. This was itIn a minute hed know for sure that Cory was his son and then he could get on with the rest of his life.

  He opened the door, signed for the package, thanked the driver, and shut the door behind him. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the cardboard mailer. He swallowed hard against his dry throat, and a lightheaded feeling came over him. Dazed and dizzy, he wandered into the kitchen and dropped onto the first barstool. He pulled the tab at the top of the envelope and then he stopped.

  The blood rushed from his face and his stomach dropped. He set the cardboard container down and stared at it. Cory was his son; he could see it the moment he looked at the prom picture. Amy hadnt loved anyone but him all her life. Thats what shed told him in her letters, and Megan had verified the fact. Amy hadnt been with anyone but him

  But then, slowly, like an unavoidable car wreck happening right before his eyes, a possibility hit him. Amy had been raped. A week after shed given in and slept with Aaron, shed been attacked on the Pierce College campus. It was a detail he hadnt acknowledged over the past couple weeks, because it was too hard to accept. Somehow, it seemed his fault that shed been alone that night, walking to her car. That if hed been more supportive, more available, maybe she wouldve already been home, talking with him on the phone rather than working late at the library.

  The idea was crazy, of course, and Aaron knew that in reality he couldnt have helped her that night. Either way, there was no point holding onto the truth that his special girl had been viciously attacked. Until now. He grabbed the slightest breath and considered the possible results that lay in the envelope. What if the precious boy who looked like him and longed for him had been fathered by a cowardly rapist? His heart pounded and his stomach twisted in knots. If that were the case, how could he ever tell the child the truth without destroying him? The boy would go from being the son of an NFL quarterback, to being the son of a twisted and depraved criminal. Aaron shuddered. He pictured Cory, the way the news would feel like a lie at first, impossible. If the results went that way, no matter how involved Aaron stayed in his life, eventually Cory would understand the reality of his situation. He would be the son of a rapist.

  Anger choked Aaron, and his breathing came uneven and fast. He shouldve been there all along. If he wouldnt have turned her away, he wouldve been by her side when Cory was born and there never wouldve been a question, never a paternity test. He wouldve married Amy. He looked around at the luxury surrounding him, the granite counters and travertine tile floors. They wouldve lived here in this house, raising their son, and Amy would still be alive.

  He picked up the cardboard mailer one more time. Slowly, like the first light at the crack of daybreak, an understanding dawned in his heart. The results were confidential, and he alone had received a copy. Weeks ago, he or
dered the test and paid for it, and at the time, he figured Megan didnt need a copy. He would tell her the results as soon as he could see for himself, because of course Cory was his son.

  Only what if that wasnt how it played out?

  He stood and gripped the package, and he headed down the hall and into his office. With each step, he felt his fear lifting, dissipating, because he knew what he was going to do. He walked through the double doors of his office and toward the corner. There on the counter was a machine he used only once a monthwhen he had statements he didnt need, statements he didnt want anyone finding, to protect himself from identity theft, credit card theft.

  Now, with a sense of right that consumed him and breathed new life into him, he took the contents from the mailer, and without looking at them, he stacked the two pages back-side up, neatly one on top of the other. Then he lifted them to the top of the machine and watched them dissolve through the mechanical teeth of the shredder.

  And like that, it was over. He was Cory Briggss father.

  No matter what the test results said.

  He found them at the youth center, where hed known he would find them. He parked his truck, and already he heard the sound of a basketball pounding the old parquet floor. He strode through the entryway, on a mission like none other in his life. When he reached the gym, he leaned on the doorframe and watched them for a minute. Megan wore a sweatshirt and jeans and she had a whistle around her neck. She was officiating a pickup game that seemed to have no rules, and few boundaries.

  After a minute or so, she spotted him. Shed been about to blow the whistle, but now she let it drop back into place. Timeout, she shouted. Her voice echoed in the big old building. Everyone, take five.

 

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