We lined up on either side of the ball. Danny was in the front with his hand on the football, while Corey danced behind him. I wasn’t sure if his fancy footwork was designed to fake me out or to help him keep warm. We’d had a brief tease of spring, when the temperatures had gone up, but today it was pretty fucking cold. I could see my breath as I panted, waiting for Danny to hike the ball. Tate was directly in front of him, doing his best intimidation imitation, but since my old college buddy was just about as threatening as a baby kitten, I was surprised my brother wasn’t cracking up.
“Hut, hut, HUT!”
Danny snapped the ball into Corey’s waiting hands, and then as I’d predicted, he took off down the field, deftly sidestepping Tate who lunged toward Corey. I left those two behind and gave chase to my brother, who was quickly heading to the makeshift end zone. He crossed the imaginary line we’d created between two practice cones and stutter-walked backward, his eyes fastened up field where Corey was still trying to shake free of Tate. Corey managed to get loose long enough to send a pass spiraling toward us. I made a running leap, attempting to deflect the ball before Danny could get his fingers on it.
“No fucking way, cubby!” He slammed his body into mine, knocking me clear just as the ball fell into his arms. I hit the ground hard with an ommph.
“Fuck!” I pushed myself up on my elbows just in time to watch my brother execute a spin as part of his traditional touchdown dance. “You are such a douche, Danny.”
“I believe you mispronounced that word, cubby. I think what you’re trying to say is winner.”
Corey and Tate trotted toward us, both of them still breathing hard. “Good game, Taylor. Nice try. But clearly you’re not up to going against the mad skills your big brother and I possess.” Corey held out a fist for Danny to pound.
“I can’t wait to post everywhere about how I beat not one, but two professional football players.” Danny grinned at me as I got slowly to my feet. “Get ready for some serious jeering, bro.”
“Uh, let’s remember you did have some help.” Corey cocked his head. “And I think this goes to show that experience trumps youth every time.”
“I think it also means that youth is about to buy experience some beers.” Danny wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squeezed and then forced me down enough that he could knuckle my head.
“Knock it off.” I pushed his hand away. “Asshole.”
“Awwww, don’t be like that, cubby. Remember what Dad always said. How you win is just as important as how you lose. Oh, wait . . . you lost. But I’d think you’re pretty good at that.”
“Fuck off, Danny.” I didn’t say it with any real heat. I was used to being the youngest brother, picked on by both Simon and Danny and yet at the same time, confident that they’d turn right around and defend me against anyone who might mess with me.
“Let’s grab those beers. Ellie’s expecting to meet all of us for dinner at six-thirty, and I for one am not going to be late. I value my life too much.”
“So you’re heading back to Philly, huh?” I took a gulp of my beer and turned toward Tate. “Are you worried about playing for the hometown fans?”
“Nah, not much.” He grinned at me, same old laid-back guy I’d known since right after high school graduation. “They say I’m going to see some playing time, and that’s an improvement after riding the bench in New York for a year.”
“That had to be tough.” Corey winced. “All the work, none of the glory.”
“It wasn’t my favorite season ever,” Tate agreed. “Plus, since I’m still living with my grandfather, I was commuting two hours some days and shelling out for a hotel when I had to be up there early in the morning or for a longer time period.”
“How is your grandpa?” I’d met the elder Durham several times while Tate and I were in college and when we hung out in New Jersey, as well. He was a sharp old guy who’d raised his grandson the old-fashioned way, with strong morals and a sturdy character. I’d often compared Tate and Matt; both had been abandoned by their parents at a young age, both raised by grandparents, yet they’d each turned out to be very different men.
“He’s just as ornery as ever, but you know, he’s getting older. He had some kind of issue with his heart—the doctors called it a cardiac incident—last year, and I feel better staying close. He gets a little pissy when he thinks I’m fussing over him, but I think he secretly likes it.”
“You single, Durham?” Corey sliced him a look, and I smirked, knowing what was coming next.
“I am. For now, at least.” Tate shrugged. “I’m not a play-the-field guy. Guess I’m waiting for the right one.”
“And you haven’t found her yet?” Corey raised one eyebrow.
Tate didn’t answer right away, and I narrowed my eyes. As long as I’d known him, he’d been careful in his dealings with females. He flirted a little, but with care. He’d never led on a girl or even messed around with the ones who were only interested in chasing football tail. But now I saw something new in his expression.
“I’m not sure,” he said at last. “But even if I know who she is, one thing I am sure about is that she’s not ready for me yet. I’m biding my time.”
“Smart guy.” Corey clapped him on the back. “The right one is worth waiting for.” He pinned me with arched scrutiny. “Am I right, Taylor?”
I lifted my beer in a toast of agreement. “It’s what I’ve always said.” I paused. “Now getting the chick on the same page . . . that’s not my area of expertise, apparently.”
“Well, while you three pine away for the right ones, I’m here and willing to service all the others. You know, the hordes of women who didn’t make the cut.” Danny grinned lasciviously. “So you go ahead and enjoy your wife, Iverson, and Durham, you keep holding out for the lady who doesn’t know you want her yet. And you, brother . . .” His voice trailed off as my phone chimed with an incoming text. “There’s your main squeeze, all the way across the country, getting over the guy she married instead of you. Good luck with that.”
I flipped my brother the bird and read my message.
Quinn: I’m at a wine tasting today with Kara. Thought you might like to see how hard I’m working.
And there she was, gazing out at me, her mouth curved up and a glass of red wine in her hand. I couldn’t help smiling right back at her. She looked better, I thought, as I studied the picture with barely concealed hunger. She’d been in California for a month now, and we’d been texting daily. Sometimes it was me who initiated the conversation, and sometimes it was Quinn. Some days we only exchanged quick hellos, and others we went back and forth for hours.
“Shit.” Corey was staring over my shoulder. “She’s fucking beautiful, Taylor. Why in the hell would a chick like her be interested in you?”
Danny laughed. “We’ve been trying to figure that out for years. He must have something special only Quinn can see.” His eyes met mine, and under the teasing, I saw compassion and understanding. Danny might ride my ass relentlessly, and he might give me tons of shit about football, Quinn and everything else in my life, but I knew when things got real, he was on my side. Plus, he’d loved Quinn like a sister all of our lives.
“I’ll tell her you said hey, Danny.” I began my reply.
“I’ll tell her myself.” Before I could pull back, he’d swiped the phone from my hands, and his fingers flew over the keyboard, all the while he pivoted and evaded my grabs to get it back.
When he finally relinquished the phone to me, I swatted the side of his head. “I’m so telling Mom on you. Your ass is toast, dude.”
Leo (as typed by Danny): Hey, pretty lady! You’re looking damn hot. This is Danny, btw, you know, the Taylor brother you really want. He’s trying to get the phone back from me, so I gotta be fast. Just wanted to say hi, and I hope you’re liking CA. Drink a glass of that for me. I’m keeping my eye on the boy. He’s doing okay, I guess, for a butt face. See ya soon, Q.
It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it might be. Shooting Danny
a snarl, I answered her for real.
Leo: Sorry about that. Danny has a lot of growing up to do, clearly. Love the picture and glad you’re getting a little time for fun.
I wasn’t sure if she’d answer, and I didn’t relax until I saw her reply.
Quinn: LOL OMG, Danny never changes. Is he down visiting you? Or are you up home?
Leo: He and Tate are both down here. They drove down together, and we met up with Corey today to play some football. Because you know we never get a chance to do that. ;)
Quinn: I’m glad you guys are getting to hang out. Please give Danny and Tate hugs from me. Or wait—that might be weird, huh? Just tell them I send hugs. No way I’m compromising your manliness.
Leo: Babe, I could hug them and French-kiss them and I’d still be the most studly dude in the room. Please.
Quinn: LOL Okay, okay. Message received. Gotta go—Kara’s ready to move onto the next winery. I’m just glad they have someone else driving us, because after all this wine, no way I could do it. Plus, there’re hills.
Leo: Be careful and have a good time. Talk to you later.
Quinn: Have fun with the guys.
I looked up from my phone to find all three of them staring at me, their faces wearing different degrees of amusement. Corey looked proud, Danny resigned and Tate . . . he appeared to be envious. I knew that had nothing to do with Quinn herself; Tate didn’t want the girl, he just wanted what he saw we had. Or used to have. I sighed and shook my head.
“You can all go back to your own business. That was nothing. Oh, and Quinn says hello to both of you.” I pointed to Danny and Tate.
“What about me?” Corey gave me his sad face. “No hey for me?”
“She doesn’t know you, dude, but I’m sure she’d have something nice to say about you if she did.” I drained the rest of my beer. “So what were we talking about?”
“Durham was telling us about how he kept busy during the season, since they weren’t really playing him up in the Big Apple.”
“I worked with a non-profit,” Tate explained to me. “I was just saying to Danny and Corey that when I first heard about it, I figured they wanted the big names on the team only, but it turned out that they really needed some of the lowly bench warmers to pick up the slack. So I did a shit ton of hospital visits, charity functions and other stuff like that.”
“What kind of organization is it?” I loved the volunteer work I did with Corey and the kids at the elementary schools, but lately I’d been feeling like I could do more. I just wasn’t sure what.
“It links up kids who have cancer or other life-threatening illnesses or chronic conditions with athletes who visit them regularly and do whatever they can to help the families. I was matched with a little girl who has leukemia. I went to see her at the hospital when she was in there, and I popped into some of her treatments . . . and I ran some races in her name to raise money for the costs of her care and meds.”
“That’s cool.” I nodded. “I keep thinking there has to be a way I could give more back, you know? I realize I’m in an incredible position, and I don’t want that to go to waste. I’m just not sure how to do it or where I should start.”
Tate cocked his head. “Best place to start is where you’re passionate. Outside of football and uh . . .” He motioned to the phone. “Um, important people in your life, what are you interested in? What matters to you? What has affected your life in a way that it’ll never be the same again?”
An idea was beginning to grow in my mind. “I think I have the answer to that. And maybe it’s something that would help out someone else I know, too.”
Leo: Hey, you still awake?
Quinn: Uh, yeah. It’s only nine. I’m not that feeble yet.
Leo: Forgot about the time difference. I just got home from Corey and Ellie’s house. Danny and Tate are out in the great room playing video games, drinking my booze and being obnoxiously loud.
Quinn: Oh, you poor thing. :p I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tate drunk or disorderly.
Leo: Yeah, you’re right. It’s mostly Danny. Tate’s just playing the game.
Quinn: So why aren’t you there with them?
Leo: I don’t know. Just not interested. And I wanted to talk to you. How was your wine tasting day?
Quinn: Fun. Kara’s very nice, and I think she’s glad to have another woman around. They work with a lot of guys in their business and charity.
Leo: Lots of guys, huh? Young, good-looking guys?
Quinn: Hmmmm . . .
Leo: Hmmmmm?
Quinn: LOL no. Mostly middle-aged and married.
Leo: I like the sound of that. Okay, now that we have that out of the way, do you have a minute?
Quinn: I think I can spare you one or two. I’m just curled up, reading over some of the work Allan and I did this week.
Leo: Does it look good? Are you enjoying the work?
Quinn: I really am. It’s fascinating, listening to Allan talk about his career and about Gunner. He and Kara are both passionate about their charity, too.
Leo: Funny you say that. It’s kind of what I wanted to talk about. I’m thinking of starting a non-profit. I talked to Tate about it tonight.
Quinn: Seriously? That’s kind of random, isn’t it?
Leo: In a way, yes, but in another way, no. I’ve wanted to feel like I’m making a difference in some way for a while. I think I want to start up a program that helps young athletes with mental health issues. And I’m going to name it for Matt.
Quinn: Oh wow. That’s incredible. It’s a great idea.
Leo: Do you really think so? I wondered if maybe Gia would want to be part of setting it up. I was going to call her tomorrow.
Quinn: It would probably be good for her. She’s still struggling so much.
Leo: I’m going to sound all corny and shit and say maybe it would give us both a little closure.
Quinn: Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you used that word. Your secret is safe with me.
Leo: I always knew I could trust you, Mia. So are you really doing okay out there? You know you can be real with me.
Quinn: Thanks, Dr. Leo. ;) Yeah, I am. It was hard at first, but I’m settled now, and I like what I’m doing. I’m getting used to living in the city . . . I haven’t met anyone yet outside the Crockers and some of the people who work for them, but I’m not as homesick as I was.
Leo: I’m glad. Still miss you, though.
Quinn: Still miss you, too.
Leo: I was thinking—shit. They’re coming down the hall, and Danny is yelling for me to get my ass out there before he drags it out. Help.
Quinn: Is it terrible that I’m giggling?
Leo: Yeah, it is. Okay, I’m saying goodnight before they find me texting you. Danny’s so wasted, he might steal my phone again and send you selfies you just can’t unsee.
Quinn: Ummm . . .?
Leo: Trust me on this, babe. They wouldn’t be of his face.
Quinn: Eww.
Leo: Exactly. Good night, Mia.
Quinn: Good night and good luck.
“So here’s where we stand.” I angled my laptop so that Allan and Kara could see the screen. “We’ve covered Allan’s early life, college, when you two met . . .” I flashed them a broad smile, which only grew brighter when I saw the not-so-secret glance they exchanged. For a couple who’d been married for over thirty years and had been through what they had, the fact that they still had a romance that clearly burned so hot was inspiring. It made me want what they had—and it gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe it was still possible for me.
“We’ve also finished the sections of the book about Allan’s pro football career, how you both started up the restaurant and then how it went nationwide with the franchise. We’re done with the part about establishing the charity and how others can get involved with it.” Dropping my hands from keyboard, I turned to them. “The only thing left for us to discuss is Gunner. His birth, his childhood . . . and um, his passing. We have bits and piece
s of his story woven into the rest of it, but we haven’t tackled the chapter that’s only about him.”
Kara sighed. “Half of me wants to work on that one, because remembering this way . . . it’s been like having him back again, sort of. And the other half is terrified that going back to that time is going to hurt too much.”
I laid my hand on hers. Over the past three months, I’d grown especially close to this woman. She was a little younger than my own mom, but we had so much in common, even besides our connection to the disease that had taken both Nate and Gunner. Kara was warm and open, not afraid to share tears or laughter or even blushing secrets about her love life. She’d been the force who’d pulled me into life again in so many ways, dragging me with her to lunches and other events for their charity, in the name of giving me a clearer picture of what they did. Every now and then, Kara would declare that she and I were both in danger of testosterone poisoning from all the guys who worked with the Crockers, and she’d whisk me off for a spa day. I’d been spoiled in so many ways; she and Allan treated me more like family than like the ghostwriter who was helping their book come to life.
Allan slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “The best way to do this is to dive right in and get it done. We’re together. We can handle it.”
“We can take it slow if you want. How about I start with some of the questions I have, and you can use those as jumping off points?”
Kara nodded. “Okay. Shoot.”
I hit a few keys and brought up the list I’d made earlier in the week. “Let’s talk about your pregnancy. Did you plan to start a family when you did, and how did you feel when you found out you were expecting?”
For the next three hours, Allan and Kara shared their most precious, private memories with me. Allan spoke about his joy when they’d discovered Kara was pregnant, after a few years of trying, and how excited he’d been when they’d learned they were having a boy. Kara talked about the terror of going into preterm labor and her efforts to stall the birth as long as possible, followed by the emergency caesarian that had brought Gunner into the world, as well as the fight to keep him alive in those early days.
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 68
