Then the right one comes along

Then the Right One Comes Along

Parker A glass partition, opened to the California air, allowed the play by play announcer, to scan the stadium with his field glasses. His binoculars caught the huddle below him, silver and black uniforms surrounding a single player in the middle. The radio play by play analyst spoke to the listening audience tuned into their radios from their homes, garages, cars, and places of occupation all across the city of Oakland.

“So here we go ladies and gentleman. It’s first and ten, eighty yards to go, winner goes to the AFC Championship game, loser goes home. One minute, twenty seconds to go and the young quarterback from tiny Indian Springs, Alabama brings his offense out onto the field. Down by four. A field goal won’t help them. They have to score a touchdown.”

The color analyst, a former quarterback for the team he now broadcasted for, inserted his own observations to add insight into the game and bring the fans, listening in the stadium and at home, closer to the moment. “The defense knows they can’t run the ball, they will pin the offensive line’s ears back and they are coming after Parker.”

“What is he thinking at this moment?”

“He has to quiet the noise inside his head and narrow the focus to the job at hand. The defense won’t let him sit back there in the pocket and pick them apart. They are going to put pressure on him, so it’s important for him to make precise reads and get the ball out of his hands in a hurry.”

Parker Abbey brought his team to the line. The ball rested on his own team’s twenty yard line, the sixty thousand in attendance held their collective breath.

Parker in a number sixteen jersey, the three year veteran, had eighty yards to go to take his team to the AFC Championship game to play the defending Super Bowl Champions, the Indianapolis Colts. Parker’s mind wasn’t focused on the Colts right now, he had more important issues at hand. Like eighty yards and ten big angry men all wanting to rip his head off and one high strung safety who liked to make plays with his mouth as well as his hands.

“Throw it right here bruh! Right here!” That safety edged closer to the line of scrimmage and barked at him. “I’m taking it to the house this time.” These two men were college teammates back at Alabama. Parker’s last throw ended up right in the hands of the safety with the number forty one on his jersey. It wasn’t the first interception he had thrown to this all pro and former all american.

A bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of his nose and he brushed it away with his left hand. Time to focus and go through his progressions. He found the middle linebacker. “Fifty Five is the MIke, fifty five is the mike.” He found the blitzers, two coming at him off the right side of the line. The Bronco defense would bring six, and he only had five in protection. A quick audible… “X-sharp 80 ralph, X-sharp 80 ralph!” Told his flanker to dash in behind the blitzers. Ralph wasn’t the name of the receiver but the code for right.

From the shotgun he called for the snap. From the between the center’s legs the ball came floating towards him. It seemed like the game was moving in slow motion. The ball came into his hands, his long fingers curling around the pointed tip. Two steps back, right leg first, left leg to follow, crossing over the right, his hips turned in the direction of the target. The ball came to the side of his helmet and with a flick of the wrist the pass shot out, like a dart splitting the defenders and right into the receivers hands.

Snatching the ball out of the air, the receiver broke the first tackle then the safety swallowed him up at the thirty one yard line. An eleven yard gain and now he had another fresh set of downs to work with.

He hurried his team to the line as the seconds marched off the clock. He called the play at the line of scrimmage as his offensive coordinator radioed the play in through the speaker system in his helmet.

Parker scanned the defense again. Two safeties deep, two linebackers over the middle. Man to man coverage on his four receivers to the outside. He had a linebacker covering his running back and before he called for the snap he already knew where the throw was going.

At the snap the running back snuck through the middle of the line turned to his right and raced for the sideline. The linebacker gave chase but the smaller fleet-footed back from Oregon caught the ball in stride turned up field and dove out of bounds to stop the clock after a gain of fifteen.

Parker walked to the line of scrimmage as he listened to the call coming through his head set. The coach in the booth was almost breathless.

Again at the line, Parker looked across at the defense. The Dolphins gave him the same two deep safety look. They would not give him anything cheap over the middle long. He had only a short field to work with.

Four down linemen and dug in their toes into the turf like a sprinter at the starting gate. Winded from the constant chase they couldn’t slobbered like ravenous dogs lathered up for the hunt. Their lungs pumped air into their lungs,

weakened muscles barely kept them on their feet. Driven only by pure will; the taste of victory on their tongue was like blood in the water to hungry sharks.

Parker came to the line and gave a hard count, he saw one the two linebackers flinch forward on their toes. He knew the play and he knew where to place the ball. He barked out the protection schemes to his offensive lineman and called for the snap.

With the ball in his hands he watched the two linebackers charge toward the line of scrimmage. The center and right guard stepped into the void and hit them only hard enough to divert them from their desired path. It only provided about a half second more than he would have had, but that was plenty.

A slot receiver came across the middle, and made a leaping catch five yards beyond the line of scrimmage. He went down in the middle of the field after a gain of seven.

The seconds ticked off the clock. They were under a minute now and the offense just wasn’t going fast enough. They were moving the ball, but time was working against them. He put his team in position and called for the snap. Taking the ball from under center he drove a pass into the ground to stop the clock.

The play filtered through the headset in his helmet. He passed the play in the huddle and followed his team to the line, wiping moist palms on the towel hanging off his hip.

Big play here.

It was second and ten and the team was standing on the silver and black pirate logo of the Oakland Raiders. Less than half the field remained but the area to cover by the defense was also shrinking.

Parker from the gun, pointed out the Mike Linebacker, his center made the offensive line adjustments. Expecting a four man rush, Parker called for the snap.

Ball in hand he looked for his tight end, but the left side defensive end came off the line of scrimmage and jumped into the passing lane. The middle linebacker swung around the end of the line, the back came up to cut him but missed. He grabbed for Parker’s jersey and snagged the right shoulder pad sleeve, spinning the quarterback around and almost pulling him down.

Spinning around again Parker cocked his right arm and found the Tight End coming open just in front of a crashing safety. Using all of his six feet seven inch height the Tight End went up for the floated pass and snatched it out of midair, just ahead of number twenty five who sold out for the interception. The tight end turned the reception up field, carrying the ball down to the fifteen yard line

before he was finally corralled by the safety who came up and took him out at the ankles.

Racing to the line, Parker called for quick snap. The incomplete pass landed at his feet but it stopped the clock with thirty seconds remaining.

The play came through the headset once more. A fade route left side of the line with the snap coming from the right hash mark. Parker had more than half the width of the field to work with. He pulled his team into a huddle. Their breathing was heavy but their spirits were as high as the blimp soaring above their heads.

“Let’s take our shot gentleman.” He said before reciting the play. To his favorite wide receiver he said, “I’m putting it over your left shoulder bring your guy into the field and move off towards the boundary.”

The huddle broke and Parker came once more to face the defense. He checked the play clock and there was plenty of time. He looked at his opponents, haggard, weary, but roaring at him like lions on the savannah. He again went through the progressions, got his offensive line in the right protection and from the shotgun called for the snap.

Again, as though in slow motion he saw the ball in the air at eye level, reaching out for it he plucked it like fruit from a tree, spun the ball so that it fit in the bends of his long fingers and opened his hips towards the target.

Colby Wallace, number eighty two pushed his man towards the middle of the field at the start of the snap, then pivoting on his ankles he broke for the boundary. Turning to look back at his quarterback he saw the pass leave Parker’s hand, and in as tight a spiral as he had ever seen, the pass arced high overhead turning over and coming down.

From the corner of his eyes Colby spotted his cover man recover and using his superior athletic ability he moving in to make a play on the ball. Rising three inches above six feet, he used his height advantage and elevated from the turf, leaping to pluck the ball out of mid air at it’s highest point. The defender went up with him, using his momentum to elevate like a basketball player going for slam dunk.

Unable to catch the ball in the air Colby tipped it with his fingers, deflecting it towards the boundary and away from the defender. He caught the ball on the way down, securing it against his chest to prevent the collision with the ground from jarring it loose. Ball still in hand he rolled over and held it up for the official to see.

The striped shirt referee put his hands in the air signaling touchdown and the stadium erupted with the decibel level exceeding that of a jet engine.

Parker looked up at the clock and then over at the score. With fifteen seconds remaining, the Oakland Raiders were up by two with the extra point to come.

Balling his hand into a fist he punched the air. One of his giant offensive lineman came over and hoisted him in the air.

“You did it bro! You did it!” The very large three hundred and twenty pound man’s voice scaled up to a high pitch squeal.

“We did it! We all did it!” Parker Abbey corrected him, pounding his open palm on the crown of the silver helmet.

When his feet hit the soft grass he turned to find Colby. The wide receiver threw his arms around his quarterback, and with tears in his eyes yelled above the roar of the crowd. “What a throw baby!”

Parker gave him an open handed slap across the chest and answered.

“That was all you, all you baby! That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

As the duo approached the sidelines, a silver haired man in his mid fifties, reached out and shook each hand as the eleven offensive players came off the field. “Nice job sixteen!” Coach Parsons always referred to them by their number and never by their name.

Taking a gatorade bottle and a towel, he took a seat on the bench while accepting the congratulations of his teammates. Every part of his body throbbed from his shoulders to his ankles, every joint and every muscle hurt, but he only felt elation.

As the final seconds ticked off the clock and his defense knocked down the final pass of the game to secure the victory, Parker Abbey fell on his face and his emotion poured out of him. Teammates gathered around him, patting and rubbing his sweat soaked hair. Parker knelt in the presence of a throng but he was all alone in his thoughts.

The Broncos quarterback made the long journey from his sidelines to find Parker. Standing six feet four inches the guy looked as though he stepped right off the cover of GQ magazine. Troy Martin slapped Parker on the pads and said, “Great drive kid. Good luck next week.”

He strode off with the confidence of a player who knew with certainty that this wasn’t his last shot. It wasn’t his first, either. In a career that spanned

eighteen seasons, he was a millionaire a several times over and believed by many to be the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. A living legend, he had already won three super bowls in his storied career and a seat awaited him in the hall of fame whenever he decided to hang up his cleats.

Parker felt tremendous pride in not only winning the game but beating the great Troy Martin would be a guaranteed highlight of what was still a young and promising career.

He rose from the Coliseum turf and made the trek across the field.

Flashbulbs from the stands popped as fans furiously snapped photographs to capture their heroes’ triumphant walk into the tunnel. As he neared the tunnel, he pointed to his chest and with his right index finger extended, he raised it to the crowd. It wasn’t the last game the victorious quarterback would play in the coliseum, but had he known what was to come, he would have basked in their praise a moment or two longer.

Skylar Skylar McKenzie saw the play too, eight away from where she stood, along the sidelines, dressed in her Raiderette costume and white knee high boots.

When the referee, standing at the goal line threw up his arms to signal the score, Skylar’s arms shot up with him, her silver pom poms shaking and dancing to the radio announcer’s baritone voice. “Touchdown Raiders!”

“Go Raiders!” She said displaying her prettiest smile for a camera that focused in on her face.

Skylar never doubted Parker because she watched him do it before. They met as fifteen year olds way back in Indian Springs. She was a junior varsity cheerleader for the high school where began to build his legend.

The memory came back to her like the flashbulbs firing off all across the stadium. It was the first time they ever saw one another. Standing on the sidelines, she saw the play coming right at her but her feet failed her.

Parker took the snap from center and dropped back to pass. Finding no one open he took off toward the gap between the center and left guard. He broke right, spun out of the grasp of the middle linebacker and made his way towards the sideline with the fleet footed secondary in pursuit. Just before crossing over the white stripe, a streak of red tagged the back of his jersey. He tumbled out of bounds, hit the ground, rolled and toppled Skylar over like a bowling pin.

Landed on top of him, her small pubescent breasts pressing into the hard plastic of his shoulder pads. The newspaper reporter in attendance that night snapped the photo and it was printed on the front page of the sports section.

“You all right?” He asked, his arms strong and drenched with sweat still held her against him.

“I’m fine.” She said smiling at him through the steel mask covering his face.

He helped her up and with a wink and a smile so bright it could lead lost ships to port, he said, “Kinda wish I done that on purpose.”

Skylar brushed a lock of her golden hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear and turned to face her team. Her face was pink and her ears glowed hotter than rudolph’s nose.

“I wish I’d fallen on him.” One fellow cheerleader said.

“He didn’t have to run so far to knock me off my feet.” Another told her.

“He’s so handsome.” A third added.

There were other comments, most she couldn’t remember, but their revelry of the moment made her forget her embarrassment. The newspaper’s photographer snapped a photograph of the moment Skylar landed on Parker and it appeared in the paper the following day. She cut it out and pasted it into the scrapbook she still kept in the top closet shelf of her one bedroom apartment. .That was their first meeting, but it wouldn’t be their last. The following Monday, a very handsome, though lanky young gentleman appeared beside her locker at the moment she closed it. His sudden and announced approached startled her.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She was only five feet three inches tall, and he towered a foot taller than her. He looked so different without all that football gear that she almost failed to recognize him.

“Oh hey Parker.”

“You know my name?” He seemed surprised.

She looked down, knowing that she probably sounded like a stalker. She recovered quickly. “Everyone knows who you are. You’re the starting quarterback. In highschool that means you are a celebrity.” She gave him an uncomfortable laugh.

He beamed a smile at her. “I wanted to come over and apologize for running into you Friday night.”

She brushed her hair out of her face. It was a nervous habit, that and sweaty hands. She had to rub them on her jeans to dry them. “Don’t worry

about It, it wasn’t your fault.” Her ankle was a little sore but the whole incident had only wounded her pride.

“Can I walk you to class?”

“If you would like.” She said not wanting to sound too eager.

“Well if you don’t want me to...” His voice trailed off, hurt by what he misinterpreted as a dismissal of his request. He might be the most handsome boy in school but his understand of girls was about even with the pack.

Touching his arm she said, “I would really like for you to.”

His smile and good humor returned. The steps to her next class could be counted in her head but that short walk that took less than a minute round trip would change the course of their lives.

They never officially started dating and never celebrated any kind of momentous anniversary, but the couple remained inseparable and their cliched romanced would blossom through high school and into college.

Parker would redshirt his freshman year providing him an extra year of eligibility. He would complete his degree in four years and with his extra year of eligibility he began to work on his master’s degree.

Skylar completed her undergraduate degree in Political Science in three years and completed her second undergraduate degree in Business in one. After graduation she went to study law and moved into an apartment with Allison Monroe who happened to be a Raiderette and convinced Skylar to tryout for the team. She went cold on the idea at first but after her audition she warmed to the possibility. Raiderettes are paid only a minimal per game salary but their opportunities beyond the field can make for a nice stipend, especially for a young law student.

Allison tutored her on some of the choreography, working out in their two bedroom apartment’s living room with mirrors placed all around the room. These sweat enticed sessions could last for hours and proved to be an important bonding ingredient for the two girls. They became fast friends, something Skylar knew would last regardless of what happened at the audition.

Her tryout went well, but only managed to make the alternate team. She knew all the dances and she performed them well enough but the captain felt her talents geared her more towards the gymnastics style of cheerleading rather than the dance style utilized in the NFL. Skylar took her rejection in stride. She knew she was a longshot at best and was happy to have made the alternate team. One week into camp, she received a call from the Raiderette Captain asking her to join the team at their camp the

following day. After talking to Allison she learned that one of the girls stormed out of camp and the director inserted Skylar into the vacated spot.

She had made a home on the golden coast, there was no time for dating between classes and her Raiderette commitments, but she had a small army of friends to keep her company. She missed her parents though she talked to them every night. She even missed Parker but they were growing as far apart as the two thousand miles that separated them.

On a spring night in April two seasons earlier, she and a group of friends gathered at the apartment to watch the NFL draft. The following season was a near disaster. The team had lost all but four of its games and missed the playoffs for the sixth year in a row. They fired the head coach and brought in a new regime, an offensive minded coach with his pedigree built around an explosive passing game. Their poor season had won them the second pick in the NFL draft.

Dressed in a tailored business suit, the commissioner came to the podium and announced the Raider’s first pick. It was a surprise to everyone at Radio City Music Hall, but even more so to the group of girls huddled around a forty inch television screen in the Oakland apartment.

“With the Second pick of the NFL Draft, the Oakland Raiders select Parker Abbey, Quarterback, Alabama.”

There he was. She hadn’t seen him in almost a year and his face was now plastered across her television screen. She saw him kiss his momma and give a tearful hug to his proud father then make his way to the stage to pose for pictures with the commissioner who bear hugged him as he approached the podium.

“Isn’t that your Parker?” Skylar had a piece of popcorn suspended inches from her mouth which fell open at him. Her stomach performed acrobatics worthy of Olympic gold inside her belly. Her Parker? Was that how she would describe him, was he her Parker?

The popcorn fell into the bowl and the bowl went onto the table. Confused, by her emotions she sat back and folded her arms. Fury mixed with elation boiled over into a stream of tears that brought the cabal of women to her side.

Their pleas for explanation of her tears went unanswered because she did not understand her reaction. Her mascara running and her cheeks moistened by the torrents of tears she felt the buzz of her phone vibrating on her lap.

“It’s him.” Allison said.

When Skylar’s hand did not immediately dive for the phone Allison would ask. “You’re not going to answer it?”

“I don’t know what to say.” She told her.

Allison grabbed the phone for her and answered. “Skylar’s phone, Allison speaking.”

Parker having expected Skylar’s voice stammered for a moment. “Uh.. um.” When his mind caught up the words flowed. “Is Skylar there?”

“Sure, one second, let me get her.” Pushing the phone towards Skylar she said, “Take it outside.”

Skylar obeyed and receiving the phone from her friend stood to walk out on the balcony. “Hello?” She said, trying to steady her voice to conceal her tears.

She failed to fool him. “Skylar it’s Parker. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She lied, burying her face in her hands.

“Something’s wrong what is it?” He continued to probe her for the truth.

Skylar decided to deflect his questions by turning the conversation towards the reason for his call. “I just saw you on the tv, congratulations.”

The deflection did not work. “I’m more concerned about you. You’re crying, why?”

She sniffed, realizing she could no longer conceal the emotions. She started crying again. “I don’t know. I’m so happy for you.”

“You don’t sound happy.” She continued to lie to him and he knew it.

“I am.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. “It’s a lot to process all at once, you know?”

“I don’t understand.” Parker said, his voice dulled by the sound of agony he heard on the other end of the line.

She needed time to organize her thoughts in order to better comprehend her emotions. Skylar knew she loved him but he did not love her, at least, not the way she wanted him to. In college they spent all four years together. He was the only man she wanted and she thought he loved her the same way. When she brought up the question of marriage he wilted like a flower in the summer sun.

Skylar left for California two weeks later with a heart as shattered as her dreams. The man she had devoted her life to had finally admitted that he did not love her. He would deny saying those exact words but that was the spirit of his sentiment.

She had used the time and distance to tune her heart with the broadcast from her mind to receive a simple and direct message. Move on with your life, left him go, and stop pining away for something that was never yours to begin with.

Message Received! Or so she thought, until the moment she heard that the sole object of her affection, the truest desire of her heart would soon board a

plane and reenter her world. She had not shaken her feelings for him as she thought she had and the revelation of that fact had once again drilled deep into her core to strike an abundant well of raw emotion. .Maybe this time will be different. The inner voice of the love struck girl tugged at her senses and distorted her reality to pave hope across a road of despair. “When does your plane leave?”

“I’m boarding the owner’s private jet right now and I should be there in a few hours. Could I come see you tomorrow.”

Her inner voice leapt in her throat. Please, please please!

The voice of a reasoned, responsible woman, broke through the clutter and won the stage. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

A quiet moment passed between them. “Why not?” Confusion saturated his voice, he could not understand her hesitation. “I thought you would be happy.”

“I am happy, if only I could tell you how happy, but…”

“You don’t want to see me?” He finished the sentence.

If only you knew how much, buster. That inner voice teased her emotions again. “I just don’t think it would be a good idea.”

That was where she intended on leaving it, but that’s not what happened.

He called before checking out of the hotel, but she was in the middle of class and could not answer. Afterwards she read a text message from him. He gave her the time of his departure and told her where she could meet him. One last chance to see each other before he left. She had an argument with herself all the way to the airport.

“Stupid girl!” She said standing in front of the revolving glass doors, after paying the taxi fare. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid girl!” She said this time loud enough for others to overhear. The pretty golden hair girl, intelligent, witty, charming without equal, but emotionally destabilized by an unrequited love, marched through those doors and into his awaiting arms.

She cried repentant tears as she fell into his arms. “I’m so sorry I waited so long.”

Skylar In her locker room, Skylar stared into her reflection in the mirror as she washed the makeup from her face. She combed her hair into a ponytail and

grabbed her duffel bag for the walk up the tunnel. She stopped by the director’s office and poking her head through the door said, “See you tomorrow night.”

Carla Jules looked up from whatever she was writing and nodded. “Good night.” The small black woman first joined the Raiderette organization twenty years earlier and the former olympic gymnast and college cheerleader displayed all the trophies, ribbons and medals earned during her career all around the office. To her this wasn’t fun and games, it was serious work, an important part of the organization and selling the brand of the NFL. It wasn’t just hot women with gorgeous bodies, they were the pretty face and the softer side of the hardest hitting, most grueling sport ever devised by mankind.

Many of the girls thought Carla took the job too seriously and avoided her, but Skylar thought she understood her. Fans often viewed cheerleaders as eye candy and to many they were a joke. Carla fought against that mindset and fought to have her girls taken seriously as an integral part of the heritage and tradition of the sport. Skylar appreciated that and knew that the day she hung up her knee high boots and pom poms she would remain eternally grateful for the woman who taught her so much.

“You too.” Skylar swung her bag over her shoulder and made her way up the tunnel where in one hour or more the players would make their way toward a gathering of fans waiting behind a steel barricade with the goal of having various pieces of memorabilia signed by their favorite player. Many of them wore replicas of Parker’s number sixteen jersey. Some had footballs, pictures, and game day programs in hand. One woman wore Parker’s jersey pulled up and tied around her rib cage so that her flat midriff would show. She had altered the top so that it would plunge down below the line of her cleavage and her ample bosom nearly exploded from her black silk bra.

She carried no pictures or footballs or anything other kind of memorabilia so Skylar figured she would want some part of her body signed. She did not need to engage her imagination to determine what anatomical part that would be. The canvass was already out and in plain site. No doubt Parker would oblige her. The thought made her want to run to the woman and scratch out her eyes, but she resisted the urge. Carla would not approve, besides it was against her policy to fraternize with the players. If she knew anything about her relationship with Parker she was willing to overlook it. If it ever got out of hand, Skylar knew her mentor would not hesitate to drop the hammer.

“Are you a Raiderette?” The boy asked, eyes large as egg yolks as he glared up at her. He had tugged on her bag which got her attention.

Skylar squatted down in front of her. “I sure am. What’s your name?”

“Dylan.” The child said. “You sure are pretty.” The boy’s honesty was charming as well as flattering. His father blushed.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you Dylan. How old are you?”

“Eight!” He said with pride, puffing out his chest.

“You sure are handsome Dylan.” She put out her hand. “My name is Skylar.”

Dylan took her hand in his then with the other shoved a Raiderette picture in front of her face. “Will you sign it for me?”

“I would love to.” She said. Dylan’s father handed her a Sharpie marker.

She found herself on the front row and signed her name under it, drawing a heart over the “i’s” in her last name. Returning the photograph back to Dylan she said, “Here you go.”

“Can we have a picture?” The father asked.

“Wow!” He said taking in the autograph the heart and the way her letters all looped around. “When I grow up I hope to marry someone as pretty as you.”

“I would love to.”

Dylan climbed up and sat on the top of the barricade. She moved in beside him putting her arm around his stomach and squeezed her cheeks in tight by his.

Dylan’s father steadied the camera phone. “Say Cheese!” He said and squeezed off the photo.

“You are just too sweet, Dylan. Who’s your favorite player?” She asked as his father helped Dylan down from the top rail of the barricade.

“Parker Abbey!” He said. “I have a football and I want him to sign it for me.”

Skylar’s eyes passed from Dylan to the hundred others who also wanted the autograph of one Parker Abbey. The boy was certain to be lost in the crowd.

“Well. Isn’t that a coincidence. I happen to be a pretty good friend of Parker’s. Let me see what I can do.” From her purse she withdrew her phone and typed out a quick text.

“Would you like to meet him?” She asked while waiting for a reply.

“Would I?” Her phone chimed in her hand. She read the text from Parker. “Bring him down here. I have ten minutes before I have to go meet the media.”

Skylar called over one of the security guards. “Sam will you let this boy and his father come down with me to meet Parker.”

Sam Lyte knew Skylar well enough to know he could trust her. He unlocked the barricade, an act which earned some groans and other forms of vocalized disappointment from the others in the crowd.

Skylar put out her hand to Dylan. “Come on! We have to hurry” She offered the other hand to his father. “Dylan’s going to get lost in all this commotion. You might wait all night and he won’t even see you.”

They did not run down the tunnel but they didn’t exactly walk either.

Turning the corner they came to a set of double doors with a silver and black sign on one side that read, “Authorized Personnel Only”.

The door opened and out came Parker wearing a faded crimson Alabama cap, black and red flannel shirt rolled up on the forearms, and faded denim blue jeans. He smelled of the cocoa butter soap and lotion she bought him for his birthday.

“This must be Dylan.”

Awe struck at the sight of his hero the boy remained speechless. The father introduced himself and his son to the all star quarterback. Shaking hands with the father he asked, “I’m told you have something you would like me to sign?”

Dylan could only manage to force his head up and down and passed Parker the unsigned football. “Dylan.” Parker recited the name as he wrote it on the football. “Is that with one Y or three?”

Dylan chuckled and replied, “One, silly.”

Parker flashed a perfect smile passing the ball to its owner. “All right then how does that look?”

Father and son peered over the ball at the scrawled handwriting that read, To Dylan From your Biggest Fan, Parker Abbey.

The father pumped Dylan’s hand. “Thank you so very much, that was very kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it, I was happy to do it.” Parker gave Dylan’s hair a tussal.

He remembered growing up wanting his sport hero’s autograph and how it felt to finally get it. The inscription written on his ball matched what he wrote for Dylan.

“We’ll have to put that in the acrylic case at home.” The proud father said and thanked Parker again for taking time out of his schedule to sign a football for his son.

“That was very sweet of you.” Skylar reached up and pecked him on the cheek.

“It’s one of the best perks of the job. At least I know how much he appreciates it. Unlike those sharks waiting for me to sign something they can auction off on ebay.” Parker admitted. Before returning to the locker room, he asked, “I have to run, but do you have dinner plans tonight?”

“I was going to grab a sandwich at home, why?”

“Would you rather have Luigi’s? I’m starving for some spaghetti.”

“Sounds good, want to swing by my place when you’re done here?”

He opened the door to the locker room. A cacophony of reporters and players filtered out to them. “I’ll finish up here in about an hour.”

She made her way to the parking lot and climbed into her Infiniti G37 sedan. After engaging the engine she punched up Allison on her phone. Her friend’s voice came over the audio speakers through the bluetooth settings.

“Hey Allie.”

“Sky? Where are you?”

“Leaving the stadium now.”

“Why so late?”

“Autograph seeker wanted to meet Parker. He was a cute little kid so I set it up.”

“You are such an angel.” Allison was mocking her now.

“Hey, I’m skipping out on sandwiches tonight, Parker wants to go out for a late dinner.”

“Oh? Got a hot date with the greatest Alabama quarterback since Kenny Stabler huh?”

“Not really.” Skylar sighed.

“If you don’t want to go, then why did you agree to go with him?”

“Because I want to go.” Skylar explained. “I can’t help it because I’m in love with him.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“Trust me, he knows.”

“Have you ever told him?”

“No, not really.”

“Either you have or you haven’t.”

Skylar sighed. “I haven’t said those words exactly.”

“If you haven’t told him, then how is he to know how you feel?”

“We’ve been together since high school.” Skylar reasoned.

“Sky, Sky, Sky.” Allison tisked. “Men are as dumb as fish when it comes to their emotions. If you want to know how he feels, then you need to tell him how you feel.”

“I did that.”

“No, you asked him about marrying you and that scared the bejesus out of him.” Allison reminded her. “If you want him to confess his feelings for you one way or another you are the one who has to push.” There was a pause and then, “Have you slept with him?”

“You mean since Oakland?”

“Yeah since Oakland.”

“No I haven’t gone there.”

“See. He probably thinks you’ve moved on and he may be moving on as well. You’re gonna have to snatch him back before it’s too late.”

Skylar would spend the rest of her drive home contemplating Allson’s advice. Sometimes, the girl didn’t know her own reflection in the mirror when it came to relationships. Other times she could be Dr. Phil on the spot. This time Skylar decided it was the latter rather than the former.

Parker showed up at her doorstep handsome enough to eat off the floor.

Black suit coat covered a black silk shirt left open at the neck. A black belt secured, black jeans and italian dress shoes. Skylar had her hair still in a ponytail, her legs in a pair of old blue jeans and a Raiders t-shirt.

“You didn’t say to dress up.”

“I like to look good.” He said flashing that perfect white smile, dimples drilling through his cheeks, gray eyes so hot they could melt a girl’s clothes to the floor.

And he smelled so good. His scent alone could send her head for a spin.

“I have to change.” She turned to leave but he took her at the bend of her elbow and pulled her to him. “You look most beautiful when you don’t even try.”

Why did he have to say things like that? He could wear his charm like a necklace dangling around his neck.

“Come on pretty lady, I’m hungry.”

He escorted her to the parking lot. Outside the sun began sliding into the Pacific leaving behind a splash of color across a canvassed sky. High above a single jet liner, traced a straight white line over the spray of orange, purples, pinks, and blues. A flock of gulls passed overhead screaming with delight as they could see the water from their altitude.

Parker had his Ford F-450 parked just across as small lot of grass and manicured rose bushes. The night air began to harbor a slight chill and Skylar began to wish she still had on her gray hoodie.

She almost needed as elevator to climb into the truck’s cabin. Parker climbed in as though it was made for him. Same old Parker. she thought. You can take the country boy out the country and the only thing that changes is the cost of the truck.

Parker fired the 400 horsepower beneath the engine, and strapped in. He looked over at her and smiled. She looked so small in such a big truck. Knees pressed together, hands inserted between her thighs, she appeared uncomfortable, maybe a little on edge.

Pulling out into the street, Parker asked. “Everything ok? You seem a bit uneasy.”

“I’m fine.” She answered. He reached for her hand and she let him take it.

He could feel her moist palms pressing against the pads of his fingers. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.” She told him, sounding agitated in hopes that he would drop the conversation.

He complied and left the topic alone until the truck pulled into Luigi’s parking lot. The small Italian bistro was cut into a small bricked up strip mall. The parking lot sat across the street forcing patrons to cross at the light. Luigi Patroni was a fresh off the boat Italian who came to the United States as a teenager. His family first settled in New York in the sixties, then moved west where his father opened up the very first Luigi’s in Oakland, naming the restaurant after his son who he knew would grow to inherit the family business.

Luigi studied the culinary arts in Paris and then in Venice before returning to begin cooking for his father. The now sixty year old Luigi ran the kitchen with his son Alberto running the dining hall.

Peeling back one half of the glass doors, Parker followed Skylar into the dining hall to a warm ovation for their starting quarterback. It was the part of their life together she hated more than any other. She always felt as though she lived her life in a fishbowl whenever she was with him. It was that way back in college too. Everywhere they went people knew him and many of them wanted something from him. Of that number a few believed he owed it to them, becoming belligerent to a point beyond irritating, if he failed to perform to their preconceived standards.

Luigi came out of the back, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his plump face. His black was combed straight back away from his sloping forehead, his chins rolling back one on top of the other, concealing any presence of the neck that held up the bulbous melon. He wore a chef coat over long black trousers and rubber clogs covered his feet.

He beamed a smile at his most favorite. He went first to Skylar, kissing her first on the right then on the left. Lifting both hands in his face, he kissed the top of each hand and said, “La Mia bella, bella” Pressing his hand to his heart he continued, “You bless me with your presence.” The smile on his face as genuine as a child’s excitement on Christmas morning.

His restaurant was a converted store front. He leased two sections of the strip mall and decorated it with pictures of the rat pack, Frank Sinatra and old family photos taken from the old country. The tables were lined with crisp white linen with chairs upholstered in the traditional red and white checkered pattern.

Teardrop shaped lamps suspended from the ceiling and single kerosene lanterns on each table gave the place a rich warm glow.

Putting an arm around Parker’s shoulder he shook him firmly. “You bless old Luigi’s heart. You come, sit, we bring food.”

Luigi was as good as his word. Plates of food seemed to appear out of thin air. Bruschetta and Fried mozzarella, more food than any two people could eat.

Then the main course followed, spaghetti with a large single meatball atop a mountain pasta and Rosemary Chicken large enough to feed underdeveloped countries. .Dinner conversation was about as lively as the one they had back in the truck. Parker had tunneled halfway through his mountain of spaghetti when he looked up to see Skylar poking at her chicken.

“Is everything all right?”

Luigi came over to the table and seeing that most of the chicken remained on the plate asked, “What’s the matter you no like it?”

She smiled at the sweet and talented chef. “It’s great as always but I don’t think I’m feeling very well. Could you box this up for me so I can take it home, please?”

Luigi made a sad face, his bottom lip curling under. Had she realized how deeply it hurt him to have her not eat the food he prepared she would have shoveled it in hungry or not. Luigi slid the plate from the table and took it back to the kitchen.

While he was gone Parker wiped his mouth with his white linen napkin and threw it on the table. “All right.” He said giving her a queer look from the corner of his eyes.

“What?” She said shrugging her shoulders. “I just don’t have an appetite tonight.”

“Something is bothering you.” He said.

The waiter brought over the check and Parker paid for it in cash, leaving a hefty tip for their server. “You want to tell me what’s eating at you?”

“Nothing.” She crossed her arms and slumped back against her chair.

“You’re lying.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You’re slouching.” Skylar’s mother once shared her secrets for reading body language. Anytime Skylar slouched or shrugged she was either evading the question or telling an outright lie. He used this little tidbit of intelligence to catch her now.

Skylar stiffened and her jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, I have something I want to tell you but I don’t know how.”

“Just say what you have to say.” He said softly.

Just then a family of four approached the table. “I’m sorry to bother you but we just wanted to say we are big fans.” The father said both hands resting on his son’s shoulders. “Could we have just a quick picture with you and then we’ll leave you alone?”

Irritated but realizing that it was a part of the job, Parker said, “Sure, I would be happy to.”

The father handed the camera to a busboy who snapped a quick shot and returned the camera to the father. “Thank you so much. You are very kind.” He said pumping Parker’s hand.

“You are welcome. You have a very lovely family.” He said and sat back down to turn his attention back to Skylar.

She turned away from him and her eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces in the room, every one of them a stranger but all representing the claim millions of Raider fans thought they had on the man she loved. She did not mind sharing him with the world, He was a great man, patient and kind, a gentle giant off the field and as brilliant as any man she knew. The only thing she asked in return was the lion’s share of his attention, that portion destined for her since the beginning of time.

“Before you came to California, I thought I had everything figured out. I knew who I wanted to be and where I wanted to go. Then here you come along and you turn my world upside down again.”

Parker looked stunned. “I didn’t mean…”

“Let me finish.” She cut him off. “Parker, I love you.” The tears came now as if the words so long unspoken had popped the cork holding them within the well of her soul. “I thought putting the distance between us would dry up that part of me, but then I saw you and all those old feelings came rushing back in and now here I sit, in the same spot where I was five, ten, even fifteen years ago.

Sitting so close to you, but feeling so far apart.” She dabbed her eyes with her white linen cloth. “You want to know what the worst part of it is? The worst part is that I’m happy.” She laughed at herself. “I’m happy because I’m comfortable, because this all so familiar.”

Parker seemed oblivious to the point. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t want to be comfortable anymore Parker.” She explained her tongue striking at him like a whip. “I want to keep moving forward. Life isn’t about standing in one spot your whole life wrapped in an old warm blanket just because it feels good.”

“Is that what I am to you? An old warm blanket.”

Skylar’s head fell and her hands went on flat against the table. “You can be so incredibly stupid sometimes.”

Parker’s eyes rounded with shock. “Stupid?” He sounded more hurt than angry.

“I’m not calling you stupid I’m just saying…” She sighed and covered her face. “Parker.” She said after a momentary lapse in the tempo of the conversation. “I love you and I just want to know where this is going.”

Parker ran his fingers through his hair. “Skylar, I love you too. I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

“I want more.” She told him.

“Marriage? Is that where you are taking this?” He asked, unable to bury the fury in his voice.

“Maybe, someday. I’m not ready for that step yet but when I am, I want to know that when I am, the man of my dreams will be there to sweep me off my feet.”

“Life’s not a fairytale, Skylar.” Parker barked at her.

“Don’t pretend to think that I’m some stupid little girl.” She said, her hand clenching into a fist her eyes welling up with tears. “But that doesn’t mean you

can’t find a little magic in this life. Maybe I’m foolish for thinking so, but I believe that.”

Parker sighed. “I better get you home.” Taking her hand, he led her through the restaurant, but once the glass doors closed behind them, Skylar withdrew.

“I don’t want you to take me home.” She said pulling away from him. “Call me when you figure out what you want. Until then I don’t want to see you.” She turned and began to walk down the street.

That was a decision made in haste. She thought as she began the ten mile trek towards her apartment. She had not worn the best shoes for such a walk.

She loved him so much it hurt to admit it because it scared her. The fear turned quickly to anger which soon fester into hate if he could not reconcile with his demons. Covering her arms to warm them, the tears came again, this time in an uncontrollable flood. Overcome by grief, she stopped to lean against a building front. She had made it only two blocks, but she was not alone. Parker followed her in the truck, maintaining enough space to give her the space she demanded, but not enough for her to leave his site.

When he saw her collapse against the building, he drew the truck up beside her. Skylar soon felt his arms swallow her. Large muscular and uncompromising they pulled her against him.

She pounded both fists into his chest. “Leave me alone!” She wanted to fight him off but the warmth of his arms soothed her.

“I’ll take you home.” He said, helping her into the truck.

Parker Sullen and still seething with anger, Skylar put her head against the passenger’s side window and watched the passing pavement in silence. When Parker’s truck arrived in the parking lot she popped open the door, slid down from the cabin and stormed up to the door. Parker pursued but kept his distance.

At the door of her apartment he caught daggers from Allison’s eyes when she a glimpse of Skylar’s eyes. The friends clasped one another, Skylar clinging to her friend with renewed grief and need for comfort.

“What did you do?” Allison mouthed the words as she helped Skylar to the bathroom.

Parker’s head dropped like a scolded child, he closed the door and left the apartment. As he made his way to the truck his thoughts shifted to the transformation of the day. From his greatest triumph to the unraveling of his personal life like kerosene to a flame.

Why did the idea of marriage frighten him? That was an easy question to answer and begins and ends with his parents.

To the outside world they were the average middle class couple struggling to make ends meet and raise a family in very difficult times. His father, James Abbey, was as honest and hardworking a man as one could know. His mother Angela, a doting and caring maternal figure as strong and intelligent as her husband. They both held degrees from the state college where they first met.

His parents loved one another almost the moment they met, but the brightest stars often flame out quickest and his parent’s relationship was such a star. They had so much in common but they failed to realize that what they had most in common would drive them apart. Both were eccentric perfectionists.

The slightest things could cause hostility. The toilet paper, placed on the spindle the wrong way, towels not folded properly, dishes in the cabinet not placed in proper order, clothes hung so that the crease did not form down the middle of the pants leg. These accompanied by other various nuisances brought the couple to brink of explosion until a perpetual silence replaced the vocal barrages.

Parker and his three siblings remained oblivious to the turmoil until the end came. Parker can now look back at the family photos and he can see the anguish on his the faces of his parents, but knowing the outcome distorts his view.

After a particularly hard day at work, James Abbey drove home through a driving rain, deciding somewhere between the office and his own front door that there was no hope of ever escaping his personal anguish. He came in through the door and dropped his briefcase off in the closet where he also hung up his raincoat. He moved into the kitchen where the kids all sat around the doing homework.

Saying nothing to Angela who was busy at the stove preparing the family supper. She did not ask him about his day nor did he ask about hers. He just went around to each child and kissed them on the forehead, stopping at Parker last. Without a passing word or glance he turned and went upstairs to his office.

It was a sound that Parker probably never thought he heard until sometime later. It had buried itself into a subconscious file in his mind. He recalls hearing the sound now with the ease of recalling that morning’s breakfast, the sound of

his father’s door clicking shut. Such an inauspicious sound the clicking of metal into a slot, a sound created by a closing door. That sounded when recorded by the mind along with the next would create a definite impression on his mind.

It was sometime, maybe an hour, maybe thirty minutes, maybe even ten.

The amount of time did not register between one sound or the other, in one’s recollection it seemed to pass like a movie in slow motion. The next sights and sounds a building overture of memories that flood his thoughts in the hours that sleep evades him. A pistol shot blast, the echo, his mother’s sudden scream, the pounding of footsteps on the stairs, the door of the study opening to the sight of his father slumped over in the desk chair, right hand clutching the six shot revolver in his left hand, head slumping to the right, blood pouring from the blasted out head cavity and pooling on the floor.

Parker was nine years old the night his father, in his despair, trapped in a loveless marriage and a dead end job, took his own life. So absorbed in self pity he saw no other means to escape. The father’s last and most selfish act planted a seed of resentfulness in his son. Parker often wondered if his father would reconsider his actions had he known he would be at Radio City Music Hall in New York City, thirteen years later to see his oldest son drafted into the NFL. Driving back downtown, Parker returned to the one place where his mind is always clear. He pulled into the parking lot of the Oakland Coliseum and went to the gate. The night guard let him in and Parker went straight to the field.

The cleaning crews continued their post game rituals of cleaning up the trash left by the fans. Parker went to the end zone on the far side. He could still hear the hum of the crowd in his ears as his feet sank into the soft turf chewed apart by cleats and three hundred pound men hurtling themselves at one another.

At the far end he found the spot where he threw the game winning touchdown. In the turf he could see the pivot point where his right foot dug into the turf to gather leverage for the throw. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the game had finally slowed down and he was no longer hurling passes as though they were prayers. He could see the defense see the coverage and pick them apart.

He shredded NFL defenses for five thousand yards in a single season, throwing twenty seven touchdowns and only four interceptions. He felt like a wizard with the ball in his hand, but that was football. That was easy. Loving Skylar was hard.

“They told me, you were here.” A familiar voice broke through the curtain of recollections. “I decided I needed to see what was bothering you.”

Parker turned to see his head coach, Harry Parsons standing there, still wearing the black t-shirt and black shirt he wore for every home game.

The two came up together. Coach Parsons was a former offensive coordinator when the Raiders came calling. His first draft pick was Parker Abbey because he saw something in the kid, he saw a winner. The first season had them both rethinking the decision but they believed in each other. Parker listened and worked hard for the coach who believed in him. In return Coach Parson never gave up on his star pupil.

His second season, Parker led the Raiders to the postseason for the first time in a decade, but faltered in the first round of the playoffs. This season Parker set the NFL ablaze with his arm and his Coach’s pride soared with each completion.

“Girl troubles.” Parker said kicking at the turf.

“Oh.” Coach Parsons’ mouth formed around the word to emphasize it. “I see.”

“Not sure what I should do Coach.”

“Well do you care for her.”

“She means the world to me.”

“What else is there then?”

“Marriage scares the bejesus out of me.” Parker admitted.

“I’m probably not the best guy to seek advice from on things like this.”

Coach Parsons told him. “I’m your coach not a matchmaking expert, but you are my starting quarterback and I do have an AFC Championship to win next weekend, so it is probably in my best interest to try and get your head screwed back on straight before you lose us the game.”

Coach Parsons shifted his stage to silver and black painted end zone.

“There are two things that I’ve taught you about football that apply to everyday life. The first is, take what the defense gives you. The second is see the big picture. Now apply those lessons to your friendships, business dealings, and even your love life and the answers should not be hard to find.”

With a gentle hand on Parker’s shoulder he added one more thing. “I’m going home, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” He left Parker there on the field to stare up at the rows of empty stands and think through what he had told him, confident he would figure it out.

Take what the defense gives you. That was an old but true football adage that interpreted correctly, meant, focus all the attention and energy on that which you can control. He concentrated too much of his mental energy on how his parent’s relationship might affect his own. His past was an external factor that he could not change, but it would have little effect on his future so long as he focused that mental energy in doing it the right way.

The second piece of advice, looking at the bigger picture had a number of potential meanings but he thought of one in particular that seemed more right than any other.

His father’s suicide did not heal his mother’s sour mood, if anything she became even more sullen than before. Perhaps she blamed herself for driving her husband to that point of hopelessness. Parker could never be sure because no one ever asked her, but he suspected the idea had validity.

After reaching the age of sixty something in Angela Abbey’s brain shut off.

She decided that her days of washing dishes, scrubbing floors and toilets, cooking dinners and vacuuming carpets, had come to an end. Once an voracious reader her library sat and collected dust, with no new arrivals to add to the collection.

She put her feet into a recliner, switched on the television, and there she would sit for the next fifteen years of her life, rising only to relieve herself or go to bed.

Her children reasoned at first that she deserved a break, then as the slovenly habit rolled into weeks and months they reasoned that it was a phase and eventually boredom would set in. When the weeks stretched into months, Parker and his siblings began to try and find reasons to get her out of the house, but she would always find some polite way to refuse them.

Five years passed and soon her muscles disintegrated and moving became impossible. Soon her mind also diminished and soon incoherent ramblings would replace thoughtful conversation. They brought her to a geriatric specialist who ruled out Alzheimer's but instead diagnosed her with pseudo-dementia, a form of cognitive impairment brought about by severe depression. The doctor prescribed some anti-depressants for treatment which cured the incoherent babblings, but the drugs could not improve her will to live.

Parker wanted his sister and brother to consider moving her into a nursing facility but before he could convince them, his mother would pass from this life to the next, alone in her favorite chair. It was Parker who found her like that. Lying slumped over chin, lulling in her chest, tongue rolling to one side of her mouth, eyes closed out to a rerun of “I love Lucy”.

The paramedics appeared at the front door moments after he called them.

They entered to Parker’s cries for help and found him kneeling on the floor, his mother’s lifeless body slumped in his arms.

The doctor pronounced her dead on arrival, leaving Parker to break the news to his siblings as they arrived at the hospital. It seemed ill-fitting for his mother to die that way. She was a woman who drew strength and comfort from the company of others. Maybe it was sentimentalism or maybe something else entirely, but he believed his mother loved his father more than he once believed.

Her lingering depression after his death seemed to attest to that. She would never marry or even date another man.

Whatever demons possessed also seemed to possess her. They fell in love believing that they would find happiness in one another where none could be found on their own. When they learned that even their love could not exorcise those demons, his father took the short and easy road while his mother, perhaps for the sake of her children took the longer route. Ultimately, however, self destruction was a shared destination.

Parker knew he wanted to avoid his parent’s fate and for far too long he blamed marriage on their demise. Now, as the bigger picture came into focus he could how wrong he had been. He wanted Skylar more than he wanted anything else.

How foolish and naive he had been to think that their relationship could survive without his committing to it. In trying to avoid the mistakes of his father, he could see that he too had chosen the short and easy way out. Parker knew now what he wanted and he needed to make a phone call.

Pulling out his cell phone he punched up a number that would reach a land line all the way back to Alabama. A grumbling voice, awakened in the middle of the night answered on the other end.

“Mr. Mckenzie?”

“Who is this?” He growled looking over at the number on the caller id, his mind still covered in the fog of REM sleep.

“It’s Parker Abbey, Mr. McKenzie. I know I’m calling you at a late hour but I just had an epiphany. Could I speak with you for a quick moment.”

“Who is it calling at this hour?” Skylar’s mother asked blinking at the red numerals on her alarm clock. “It’s after midnight for crying out loud.”

Mr. McKenzie was already upright in bed and had thrown back the covers.

“It’s Parker.”

“Is Skylar ok?” She sat upright and even in the darkness he could see her eyes widen with worry.

“Sky is fine. Parker says he’s had an epiphany and needs to talk to me. Go back to bed, this won’t take but a minute.”

Walking out of his bedroom and closing the door behind him, he said to Parker, “This had better be worth it.”

Skylar Friend is an overused word in the social media age. Business associates are friends, old classmates, not seen in years, are considered friends, even two people who have never met call themselves friends. Skylar McKenzie, though, was a true friend, according to the word’s definition in the Oxford dictionary.

Allison did not make friends easily. She only had a couple and Skylar was her best friend. Growing up, she was an army brat, rarely staying in one location for very long, learning at a young age that making friends was a pointless effort. She played alone and celebrated birthdays with a book in her hand and a cookie cake on the table. She opened only one present and as she get older the presents turned to cash tucked inside a Happy Birthday card.

When she graduated from high school, her mom and dad were the only voices in the audience cheering. She stayed home and went to a community college rather than going off to the state university.

Her childhood spent so much in isolation made her an introvert. She liked people, but had a difficult time making friends in her adult life because most thought her conceited.

Her good looks did not help with this social stigma, one of the few instances where her natural beauty actually hampered her.

Despite most early impressions, she wasn’t conceited, just socially awkward. She felt uncomfortable in small talk and did her best work in intimate settings.

So when it came to comforting her friend, Allison was a novice and there was no rule book to tell her what to do. She could google it. You can google anything, but that felt silly.

Chocolate was the best band aid to heal a girl’s broken heart, especially the warm liquid kind.

Entering the kitchen, taking the milk from the refrigerator, and a can of cocoa from the pantry, she mixed the ingredients into a round pot heating on the stove. With steam rising from the pot she poured a small amount into a coffee cup and dumped in a handful of small marshmallows on the top. The marshmallows had melted into a thick frothy foam over the top by the time she rounded the corner coming out of the kitchen and walked down the hall to Skylar’s bedroom door.

She rapped twice with her knuckles. “Sky? Can I come in?”

“Come in.” Skylar’s voice sounded strained as if the very effort of projecting the words placed a strain on her voice that took more out of her than it should.

Allison twisted the knob and the door popped open to a dense darkness. The light from the hallway spilled across the floor and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Allison could make out the outline of Skylar’s body; lying on her right side, wrapped in a throw blanket emblazoned with the Alabama logo. Eyes stared blankly towards the window, covered by curtains and closed off to the light of the parking lot.

“I brought you some warm cocoa.” Allison said from the doorway. “I know it always helps me feel a little better.”

She saw Skylar sit up in bed, her hand reaching up to switch on the bedside lamp. A warm glow filled the room as Allison delivered the cup of cocoa to Skylar’s awaiting hands.

“Thank you.” Skylar said, eyes swollen from crying. “You are too sweet.”

Allison sat beside her on the bed, left leg bending back under her rump where she sat on the bed. “Are you ok?”

Skylar nodded. “I’ll be fine.” She told her. “I just need to have a few days away from him to get all of this out.” Just like a few weeks without a doughnut removed the craving she reasoned the same would hold true for a man..

“What did he say?” Allison probed Skylar sipped a little of the cocoa from the cup then set it down on the mahogany table beside the bed. Hugging a pillow to her breast she rested her on Allison’s shoulder.

“Nothing.” Came the reply. “He didn’t say a word.” Her gray eyes narrowed with fury.

“That’s the problem, he didn’t say a goddamned thing. So much wasted time, so many wasted tears, all on a man who tells me he loves me, but in the same breath refuses to give me the one thing I desire above all else.”

“Do you have to marry him?”

Skylar’s head snapped up and a cross look formed across her face. “You mean shack up with him?”

“It’s not the Victorian era anymore Sky.” Skylar thought for a moment but the more she considered the idea the louder her mother’s voice grew in her head. “If you are giving away the milk for free, what need is there for tugging the tit?” That was probably not the most accurate rendition of the saying but the essence of the theme remained in the words.

“I couldn’t do that.” She said, her head falling to Allison’s shoulder. “My mother would disown me.”

Allison wanted to be mad at him, but she liked the guy. If he was not already marked

by Skylar she would relish the opportunity to sink her own teeth in his backside. The thought almost made her giggle. “It would be easier to hate him if he were an asshole.”

“He is an asshole.” Skylar countered.

“Well, maybe it would be easier if he wasn’t such a cute asshole.”

“He’s a chunk of man candy.” Skylar replied in a sing songy voice.

Better than than Allison thought, the man’s got more good flavors than a Baskin Robbins. She pressed her thighs together as she felt her insides give a quiver. She had to stop thinking about him that way, but if Skylar no longer wanted him, he was fair game, right? There was the girl code, a rule book she never really read and did not fully comprehend, but there was undeniable truth among the unseen pages of bull crap. Your best friend’s man, ex or no ex remained off limits for all eternity.

Allison sighed. “He is a definite chunk of man candy.”

Skylar’s head shot up. “Oh my gosh, you are crushing on Parker.” There was a look of shock in her gray eyes.

“Am not.” Allison lied. ‘I mean I like him, he’s a great guy and I hate to see you walk out on the one man you’ve ever loved.” She wanted to include something precluded by the words if he were my man… but thought it best to leave that part out.

“You are! You are totally crushing on my boyfriend.”

Oh, so now he’s your boyfriend now? Allison sent her anger to the pit of her stomach. “I like Parker but I would never do anything…”

“I know.” Skylar patted her friend’s arm to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I should never have snapped at you like that.”

A rush of color filled Allison’s cheeks. “Me too. I should never have brought him up to begin.”

The two friends resumed their previous posture. Allison with her back on the headboard and Skylar’s head returning to rest on the thin shoulder. “What will you do now?” Allison asked.

“I don’t know what do you think I should do?

Let me take a crack at him. That’s what Allison wanted to say, but she resisted the urge. Skylar lifted her head and looked at her friend. “What would you do?” Skylar was on her knees now, palms of her hands resting on her thighs.

Allison giggled. “I’m not sure. Usually I’m the one turning down the marriage proposals.”

Skyler fell back to the mattress, rolling on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You are absolutely no help.”

Allison put her head on the pillow beside her. “Seriously? You really want my opinion?” She was never considered much of a love doctor, so she often kept her opinions to herself.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Allison thought for a second then rolled up on her left side, arm bent at the elbow, head propped up by the heel of her hand. “I think you just need to give him time. Let the dust settle a little bit and see if he comes around. If he loves you as much as I think he does, he will come around.”

Skylar sat upright and hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t think he will ever come around.” She said incredulous. “You haven’t know him as long as I have.”

Allison fell over on her back and after a moment of passing exasperation she rolled out of bed, her feet sinking into the soft tan carpet. “Maybe not, but I do know men.”.She said heading towards the door. “You do what you want but don’t come crying to me when you are all old, wrinkly, and alone because you let go the only man who will ever truly love you.”

She closed the door on the way out but did not let it slam behind her. That last statement was probably a bit overdramatic, nothing unusual for her, she had at least a kernel of drama queen inside of her. Well, maybe more than just a kernel, maybe the whole damn bag of popcorn, but there was some truth to what she said. She could never love Parker Abbey,she decided that long ago. She could never love a man that did not belong to her completely. That thought gave her pause. Maybe that was the reason behind Skylar’s insistence on marrying him.. As long as the status quo remained unchanged, some part of him would be forever apart from her.

Parker’s image appeared on her television screen, wearing the ragged and discolored Alabama hat, his five o’clock shadow framed a strong jaw above a neck bulging neck as thick as a tree trunk. His light blue eyes turned away from the camera to look at the reporter asking him a question.

“What was going through your mind as you began that last minute drive?”

Parker’s answer: “I just trusted my teammates to get the job done. There was never any question in my mind that we were going get it done.”

Another reporter: “You threw up that pass like you knew Colby would catch it.”

Parker’s response: “Like I said before, I never doubted the ability of my playmakers.

Colby and I have thrown that pass a thousand times in practice. I knew if I put it where

only he could catch it, that he would do it. He’s a playmaker for us and he went up and did his job.”

Reporter’s question: “You are on the cusp of bringing this franchise from the dungeon to the Super Bowl. Does that make this any more special?”

Parker shook his head: “I was brought here to help this organization win and I feel I have done my part. We can’t put this game or any other on a pedestal. Is it big game?

You bet it is, but that doesn’t change how we approach the game relative to how we prepare for it.”

Allison purred like a kitten. “Mmm… he sure is a hunk of man candy.” She said aloud as his perfect smile and pearly teeth beamed across her television screen.

When the sportscasters reappeared live on the set in Bristol, and still picture of Parker’s face appeared on the screen to the left of the announcer smartly dressed in a black suit and purple tie. Above his head was the Raider shield and below him ESPN listed the stats for the game and his averages for the season. Allison snapped out of her hypnosis and grabbed for the remote, pressing the pause button on the DVR. The screen froze and a surge of anger coursed through her like one thousand gigawatts of electricity. Here, on her forty two inch LED television screen sat the smiling face of the man who broke her best friends heart and a transformation began to take place in her mind. The smile that once could melt sugar mutated into a sneer, and horns began to grow out of his head, snapping the halo her imagination had painted there. A tattoo in all black letter began a steady scrawl across his forehead and the word “PLAYER” came into view. She could almost hear him laughing at her.

Ha! See what I did? Said Parker’s voice from the still picture in the television screen.

His lips pursed and he kissed the air. She could hear the sucking sound as from the speakers. See how I did that? See how I broke your best friend’s heart and left her at your doorstep a puddle of shattered dreams? I destroyed her fairy tale and I will destroy yours too. So why don’t you walk over here and give me a kiss and let’s get this show on the road. What do you say toots?

“Ooh!” Her eyes narrowed and her foot stomped the carpeted floor. She switched off the set and returned to Skylar’s room.

When Skylar sat up in bed again, Allison burst into tears and ran to her friend throwing her arms around her. “I’m so sorry.” She said the two women embracing. “I get it now.” Allison admitted as she stroked Skylar’s golden hair. “I finally understand and I’m so sorry.”

Skylar felt her sorrow dissolve into Allison’s warm and comforting arms. “You were right, he is an asshole.” Allison told her. “What changed your mind?” Skylar asked. “A few minutes ago you had me almost convinced that he was the best thing since Dr. Pepper chapstick and miniskirts.”

“Let’s just say I came to my senses and saw things from your point of view.” She redacted the part about Parker’s demon image emblazoned in all its forty inch high definition glory across her television screen. After all, she only wanted Skylar to see her empathetic side, not her irrational and temporary hormone induced insanity.

Skylar

Skylar hardly slept at all. When she closed her eyes she only saw Parker Abbey, but she also found him stomping around in her brain as she lay like an insomniac staring at the ceiling. Hours before dawn her eyes finally closed and she drifted off to find a warm soft place in her subconscious, a place dark and comforting that relaxed her mind. Thoughts of Parker seeped from her consciousness.

She was up at first light, showered and dressed for class. The ensemble for this day was a ponytail for her hair, jeans, white sneakers and an Alabama t-shirt.

After applying a scant amount of makeup and a little spritz of perfume, she donned her jewelry; a ring for her left hand and a simple silver cross necklace. She swung her purse and backpack over her shoulder then departed the apartment in need of coffee.

Skylar followed the cemented walking path to the crosswalk and there waited for the little pedestrian sign to light up the board across the street. Traffic was light this early in the morning and there was not a car in sight as she took her first step into the street. She passed to the other side, stepped up and over the curb and in a few steps found the door handle of the coffee shop with her right hand and with a gentle pull the smell of brewing coffee wafted into her face.

Three customers were in line ahead of her so she gathered in the sights of cinnamon buns, scones, cookies, muffins and other assorted goodies shielded by a glass barrier.

Don’t worry my little yummies, her watering mouth seemed to say I’m coming for you. All of you. You may escape today but soon you will find your eternal resting place in the pit of my belly. The little voice inside her head reminded her of the Gollum character from J.R.R Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. She gave herself an approving smile. It was only a little half grin, she didn’t want to be seen beaming for no apparent reason. No reason to let people actually know that she was a little bit crazy.

She felt good this morning, better than she should all things considered, but it felt as though some heavy weight had finally slipped off her shoulders. For the first time in a very long time, she felt whole again. She loved Parker, but she had to be the one to bare the full weight of the relationship because he refused to carry his share. So, good riddance Mr. Parker Abbey, handsome and beautiful chunk of man candy that you are. Now her mouth began to water for a completely different reason and she felt a tingle in her midsection that reached all the way down to the tips of her toes.

God I miss him. She thought, and just like that she could feel the weights piling back on top of her shoulders like shards of metal to a magnet. Her smile, tiny though it may be, diminished and the corner of her mouth sagged in the direction of her chin.

“What can I get for you today?” Said the young man behind the counter, his corn colored hair sweeping over one eye falling out of the cap he wore as part of his uniform.

Red zits dotted his face, resembling one of those line by numbers puzzles. His mouth fell open just a little bit because he could not breath through his nose and his eyes kept darting down to her the mounds on her t-shirt formed by her breasts.

Geez kid, this the first time you ever seen a pair of titties before? She wanted to say.

Hey kid my eyes are up here. She could have said that one too. Hell, if she lifted up her shirt to let him see her bra she probably could get free coffee for the next ten people in line.

She never quite understood the fascination men had with breasts, but what did she know.

She had to carry these bitches around with her all the time. So, instead she said, “Iced Latte, with skim milk and one blueberry muffin please.”

“Will that be for here or to go?” His stare was about as blank as a cow. He looked half asleep, for all she knew he was asleep, or possibly stoned.

“For here please.”

The kid passed her a green card with a white number on both sides taking a long look at her breasts again. Skylar pretended not to notice and smiled prettily for him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He said, his dull voice still enraptured in his sleepwalking state.

She turned and found a corner booth, placing the card on the small stand with a spooled curve of wire at the top. The card inserted into the slot with a snug but perfect fit.

She moved around the side and sat facing the door.

From her backpack she pulled her Ipad and powering it on, she put it face down on the table until it connected to the coffee house’s wireless network. In the meantime, her coffee arrived in a tall fully insulated cup covered with a plastic lid. Her blueberry muffin had been wrapped in cellophane and brought to her table on a white plate. A separate station a few steps from her table held napkins, silverware, creamer, stirrers and various other accoutrements suitable for a coffee establishment.

After retrieving a desired number of these goods, she returned to her table, sat and began to peruse through some online documents pertaining to a court case she would be writing a position piece on. Her assignment was to pick a Supreme Court case and deliver a written opinion on whether she found the court’s ruling correct or not and to use previous court cases to argue the opinion.

She had opted for a case dating back to 1944, Korematsu vs The United States. This controversial six- to three ruling upheld the Roosevelt administration’s internment of Japanese Americans living on the West Coast.

While sipping coffee and nibbling on her blueberry muffin she reread the court’s majority opinion. The facts of the case so captivated her attention that she did not see the man crossing the coffee house floor.

When Skylar looked up the man was standing at the end of her table. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and a face so flushed with color that it appeared steam might whistle from his ears.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” He waited for her to answer.

Her first thought was to refuse him. She needed this time to study as practice would eat up the balance of her time in the afternoon. He wasn’t an unattractive man but he wasn’t exactly her type either. To begin with, he was short, about her height and she was only five feet three. He had a head of thick dark hair, eyebrows as thick as caterpillars, and arms covered in more than hair than the Robin WIlliams of the gorilla world.

“I’m sorry but I really need to study.” She said peering back at him through the rectangular lenses of her eyeglasses.

The man’s smile shrank to a frown and the color in his sapphire eyes dimmed to a soft gray. The color in his face deepened and his muscles seemed to lose all their rigidity till it seemed as though he might crumble into one massive glob and spill across the floor like a whole pitcher of iced tea. . She heard her refusal but could not believe it to be her own voice. She’d spoken those words without thinking and in the process hurt a man whose strong desire to meet compelled him to put himself out there, his heart as exposed as a hand gripping a block of dry. What compulsion delivered him to her table side now ensnared her and her mind overrode her instincts.

“Of course, sorry to bother you.”

As he turned to leave her hand touched his wrist. “Wait.” She said remorsefully.

“I’m sorry, please have a seat.”

Hope replenished he asked, “Are you sure, I don’t want to impose.”

She tucked her ipad back down inside her book bag. “I would like it if you did.”

So he sat. Extending his hand, he introduced himself. “Donovan Lupinnaci, but my friends call me Donnie, for short.”

That’s not the only thing short about you. Her mouth corkscrewed towards her chin and she rolled her eyes at her subconscious. That little sassy princess deserved a strong talking to on the way to class. “Skylar McKenzie.” She said and slipped her hand into his.

It felt like a velvet lined glove swallowed her hand.

He squeezed, firm, but not tight. “What are you studying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She didn’t. It seemed like a logical question considering. “I’m studying up on a supreme court case for one of my classes.”

“Law student?”

She nodded her head over her the lid of her coffee cup. “Hm hm. Third year at Cal Berkeley.”

“Wow!” He said, impressed. “That’s a very tough school to get into. You must be very smart.”

Her shoulder ticked up, humbly. Bet your sweet hobbit ass I am, Froto. That wasn’t exactly a proper response for the compliment, so she injected humbly, “I just work really hard.”

“What do you do for a living?”

Oh, boy here it comes. Judgment time, kiss his hinney to the curb if he gives even the slightest hint of condescension. “I’m a Raiderette.”

A look of shock came over his face like someone pulled a Halloween mask down over his nose. “Really?”

That didn’t sound condescending. But she wasn’t sure, so she waited.

“I’m actually talking to a Raiderette?” His surprise was genuine. “Wait til my son hears about this?”

Son? For the first time she looked down and saw the gold band on his finger. You idiot! How could you not notice the wedding band. :”You have a son?” She did not try to hide the disapproval in her voice.

In his surprise Donnie had revealed more than he intended. He would have told her but he at least wanted to get a phone number first. His finger thumbed the wedding ring on his left hand. “Seven year old.” He smiled. Skylar was ready to leave his sorry ass at the table when he explained. “I’m widowed.” His left hand came off the table, showing her the ring. “We lost her one year ago to breast cancer.”

Her anger fell like a pebble in a well back into the pit of her stomach. She believed him. She couldn’t say why, but she believed him. “I’m sorry, to hear that.”

The conversation immediately meandered away from the macabre talk of a dead wife to lighter topics. He seemed interested most in her career as a Raiderette. Donnie spoke only once more about his son, Steven, telling her about his dream of playing football.

Skylar did not have to tell him that the likelihood of that happening based on the genetic pool sitting in front of her, was slim to none.

Donnie checked his watch. He had spent thirty minutes with her and it seemed like a matter of seconds. “I have to get to work.” He said, his hand circling the watch on his wrist.

“Could I have your number? I’d really like to see you again.”

Skylar thought for a moment. This had progressed far beyond coffee and now began to slither toward the date realm. She wasn’t sure she liked him that much but something compelled her hand to a pen and the pen to a napkin. After folding the napkin, she slid it over across the table.

He took the folded napkin and pressed it into his shirt pocket. “When can I call you?”

Her shoulders shrugged. “I’m usually busy but if you call me up and I don’t answer leave me a text and I’ll zip one back to you when I have a chance.”

He smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” He slid out from the booth and she slid out with him. “If you are also leaving do you mind if I walk you to the door?”

She swung her bag over her shoulder and accepted the offer. He held the door for her as she walked out. “You don’t sound much like a California girl.”

“Best of both worlds, California implant by way of Alabama.” She told him.

“Roll Tide or War Eagle?” He asked.

“Crimson Tide all the way.”

He growled. “I hate those guys.”

“USC or UCLA?” She asked him.

“Neither, Oregon Ducks.”

“Ooh” She said, her mouth forming around the word. “We kinda stomped hard on that heart in that national championship a few years ago.”

They had. Alabama, with Parker at quarterback face the Oregon Ducks in the Rose Bowl in a one versus two matchup. All the experts picked the high paced Oregon Ducks to run away with the game but Alabama shocked the world with a thirty point blowout. It seemed only Vegas saw it happening as they had Alabama listed as a twenty point favorite going into the game.

“I hated Parker Abbey after that game, but after last week it’s heart to hate anything about the kid.”

That struck her as funny and her hand landed on his forearm. She liked him, more than she was ready to admit. Had she seen who was standing across the street, she may not have found the comment half so funny.

Parker It took Parker thirty minutes longer to reach his home in the Oakland HIlls and in less traffic congestion.. He needed time to think, so meandered about the city a little bit before finally pulling into his driveway. He parked in the rear courtyard of his home and went inside. The entire back wall of his home opened up to the bay with the San Francisco skyline visible on a clear day. He pulled in the curtains and sat down on the couch. He reached for the remote. He switched on the set but seeing his face on the screen prompted him to shut it off. He stood and went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, removed a plastic bottle of water and screwed off the top. He downed one swallow and returned the container to its previous resting place. He opened the cabinets but soon remembered he was not hungry and pushed it back closed. He went next to the bathroom and after emptying his bladder, he washed his hands and then took the spiral staircase to the second floor. He kicked his shoes off in his closet and finally went to his office and sat down behind his desk. He could not put it off any longer,the compulsion to write overwhelmed him. It

was a now an irresistible force driving him to a predetermined end. Pen in hand he began to write the first words that came to him in a spiral notebook. The first few lines came slowly then like the flood the drove Noah into the ark the words began to spill out of him. He felt connected with some inner being long begging to free itself from some cavernous dungeon whose existence remained a mystery to him. He wrote because he felt full, there was so much to tell her, so much he needed to say that he could never remember it all unless he wrote it down. First, he thought the pages would be notes, but it soon took on the form of a letter and the letter soon turned into a soliloquy.

When Parker finally put down the pen, his hand cramped and his words filled several pages in the notebook. He felt empty now, all his emotions, thoughts and feeling now lay on the pages naked and exposed just like dice on a Craps table.

He switched off the light and went to his bedroom. His shoes already off he just collapsed on the bed. He was spent and it had been the longest of days. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, dawn had come. He had not moved and he had not climbed beneath the covers. He was face down and spread eagle on the top of his comforter. He pushed himself from the mattress and rolled off the edge. When his feet hit the wooden floor he hurried to the bathroom where he showered, brushed his teeth, flossed and swished on deodorant. He went to the closet and dressed then returned to his study and pulled the sheets of paper from the spiral notebook.

He checked his watch. Skylar would leave for class soon and he knew he could not go to practice that afternoon with this much weighing on his mind. Skylar consumed his thoughts and there was not enough room for anything else.

WIth the pages in hand he scampered down the stairs and exited the home out the back. He climbed aboard his truck and drove off towards Lakeside.

He pulled into her parking lot and shut off the engine. He had to move fast, if he allowed himself time to think he might chicken out and nothing frightened him more than the prospects of walking away from the rest of his life without at least letting her know how she felt about him.

With the pages in hand the heels of his cowboy boots thumped across the pavement of the sidewalk. Up the steps of the apartment they again tapped out a rhythmic dirge like approaching armies on the battlefield in the days before internet and communication satellites.

At the door of Skylar’s apartment he knocked twice and waited. The muffled footsteps inside indicated someone was coming to answer the call. There was the rustling of a chain, the chunk of a deadbolt retreating, the knob twisted and the door rolled back on brass hinges.

Allison stood in the doorway, hair in a ponytail and dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and yoga pants. Even in her going to the gym to sweat get up she looked gorgeous.

Parker often thought about what she would look like, sprawled naked across his bed but that was always a fantasy. He knew she would never go for it and he could never betray Skylar. God, he was such an asshole.

“Oh, hey.” He said half startled to see her. Though he did not understand why he expected Skylar to answer the door they lived there together and he had at least a fifty-fifty chance of drawing Allison.

“Hey yourself.” She looked pissed. Her hazel eyes were as hot as lasers and the hand on the left hip did not indicate pleasure in seeing him.

“Is Skylar around?” He asked, thumbs pressing into the pages in his hand.

“What do you want Parker?” Allison interrogated him.

“Just to talk to her.”

“Do you know how much you hurt her?”

Parker’s eyes found the toes of his cowboy boots poking out from the bottom of his jeans. He had the same habit as a boy whenever a teacher or his mother would scold him.

He forced his eyes up until he found Allison’s burning stare again. “I know, but I just need to talk to her and I can make everything right.”

Allison gave him a half smile. He was an ass, a big ass, but she had to hand it to him he was at least a charming ass. “She’s already left for class, but she stopped first for coffee. She may still be there if you hurry.”

Hurry he did. With a nod to Allison he peeled off for the stairs. Grabbing hold of the rail he took them two at a time. Landing past the final step with both feet firmly planted on the concrete. If he were to twist an ankle or a knee the season would be over before he could play again, but he was not thinking about football. Skylar was all that mattered.

He did not bother taking the walkways, choosing to whisk across the grass as it was the shortest distance between him and the coffee shop. He was running when he reached the curb, but stopped as the glass door swung open. It was Skylar, but she was not alone.

Someone was with her. It was a man, a rather good looking man, even at this distance Parker could see that. He held the door for her and the two of them stood just off from the entrance as to avoid impeding the entry of other arriving customers.

Parker stopped and watched them. his hand enclosing in a fist around the pages containing the contents of his heart’s deepest desires. He felt his jaw tighten and his teeth clamped down. Why was he so furious? It seemed irrational, after all they were only talking.

He began to have an argument with himself, the two sides of his nature duking it out in a war of words inside his head.

They aren’t just talking. That man has his hand on my girl’s arm.

She isn’t your girl. remember? She had made it clear yesterday, that you have no claim on her because you refuse to commit. How can you blame her for moving on after you gave her a blank refusal. For the first time? No! For the second time you big dumb jock.

The fist tightened around the pages.

I should blame her. How could she do this to me? I came here to give her everything she asked for.

She gave you that chance. The day she came to see you at the airport when you first came to Oakland. Remember how surprised you were when you saw her? You didn’t even want to call her because you knew she would never come. But she did. Why? Because she loves you? Tell her what you came to say, you still have a chance.

No! I will not grovel.

Pride comes before the fall big fella.

I’m done with this! Look at her, laughing at almost everything he says. She likes him, she actually likes him.

Maybe she sees something in him that reminds her of you. You know you’re not all bad right? She sees something in us that we don’t see in ourselves, like you said in the letter. Let her see how you really feel.

Parker almost threw the pages onto the ground, but he didn’t want articles in Sports Illustrated depicting his littering habits, besides, the private words on these pages had his

name attached to them. It would be embarrassing for him if they ever turned up in the National Inquirer.

Would serve her right if they did. She could read all about the life with me she just flushed down the toilet.

Don’t talk like that. You aren’t the be all end all of men anyway.

His moved turned sour as he turned away from the curb and started back toward the truck. His arms felt like heavy weights attached to his shoulders and his head fell.

I would make a terrible husband anyway. She’s better off without me.

The argument in his head seemed to be over, but as he climbed into the cabin of his truck and fired up the engine, he couldn’t be certain which side had won. Was it the good side of his nature or the bad. Did not matter either way. His life with Skylar was over and it was time to put it the rearview mirror.

Returning home, he put the crumpled hand written pages on the kitchen table. He went to the refrigerator and snatched a Red Bull from the door shelves and popped the top.

There was a hiss, like an angry snake when he broke the airtight seal. Downing a few swallows, he moved into the living room and sat down on the couch.

On the coffee table in front of his brown leather sofa sat a picture, a five by seven framed in a metallic silver. The picture was a headshot of him and Skylar, pressed cheek to cheek, their eyes shaded by sunglasses. A pair of perfect smiles beamed at the lens of the camera.

That was a happy memory. Two weeks after the draft Parker took Skylar to the Redwood National Forest for a hiking trip to see the grandest and most awesome trees mother nature ever invented. They spent the entire day together and picniced among the ancient giants.

“John Steinbeck wrote about these trees.” Skylar told him while she sat on a blanket and ate a turkey sandwich. “He said, ‘The redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you always.’ He called them ‘ambassadors from another time.’ Don’t you think so too?”

Parker could only agree. They are not like any trees we know. Like Skylar they were one of a kind. And you threw it away. The voice of his inner angel talked to him again and it was the only voice in his head.

Do you think it possible to replace this woman? WIll ever be able to find another one like her? Congratulations Parker Abbey, you’ve just earned yourself a lifetime of heartache.

How does it feel to realize you may live the rest of your life and feel again the feelings you have for her? How does it feel, knowing you may die all alone? Congratulations Parker Abbey, the misery of your father that you struggled so hard to avoid just landed in your lap and you wrapped it around you like a coat. So how does it feel Parker? How warm Is it under there?

It wasn’t warm at all. He felt the icy touch of a finger thump him at the base of his spine, sending shards of pricking needles up his back.

Seizing the picture in his right hand he threw it with the force of an elite quarterback’s arm right into the floor, smashing the the glass. He raised the heel of his boot and brought it down on top of the picture frame, over and over again, snapping the back binding and cracking the frame. There was no longer any question which side of his nature had won.

His inner demons were dancing a jig and he was damn sorry for it.

Skylar

Skylar found focusing on that day’s classes near impossible. She was a like a school girl again with visions of boys dancing around in her head. With her mind’s eye she created the image of an old Swiss made grandfather clock and at the striking of the twelfth hour the tiny door at the top and two men danced the goose step wearing Bavarian lederhosen. The images painted on the tiny wooden figures were of Parker and Donnie, with Donnie’s foot swatting Parker right in the backside with each swift kick. Parker probably never deserved the boots to ass metaphor but it made her feel better at least. She smiled as tried to take notes from the professor’s lecture.

Once classes were over for the day, she went directly to the library for thirty minutes of study. After completing the allotted research time, she returned to the parking lot, climbed behind the wheel of her Infinity and drove over to interstate 980, connected with I880, then drove across the Oakland Harbor to the high school gymnasium where the Raiderettes rehearse.

She slotted her G35 into an empty space and as she stepped out Allison drove in right beside her. She climbed out from behind the wheel of her own car carrying both girl’s bags on her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Skylar said relieving her of one of the gym bags. “I can’t believe I left it.”

“You did have quite a lot on your mind this weekend.” Allison said, then asked the question she’d been waiting to ask all day. “Well, what did Parker say?”

Skylar gave her friend a queer look. “What do you mean? I haven’t seen Parker today.”

“He came by the apartment this morning right before I left for the gym and said he wanted to talk to you. I told him that you had already left and would probably find you at the coffee shop. Guess he just missed you.”

“Guess so.” Skylar shrugged and let the topic drop.

They passed through the gymnasium doors and went to the girl’s dressing room to change, then returned to the gymnasium floor to stretch.

What if he saw you with Donnie? The little voice inside her head asked. Serves him right if he did. He needs to know that he doesn’t own us. We are a strong independent woman, smart and witty and deserving of happiness. We can buy our own cars and our own houses… Empty houses. The arguing voices were back again, verbally counter punching each other deep inside her subconscious. These were the dueling parts of her nature. Her drive to be a self-made woman countered by her need for affection and love.

We don’t need a man…

You do if you want us to be happy.

We don’t need a man to be happy.

You won’t be happy if you are all alone.

We won’t be alone, we have the girls and…

What happens when they all find someone to love? They may never abandon you completely but you’ve seen this play out before. Girl meets girl, becomes best friend with girl, does everything with girl, then meets boy and calls girl maybe once a week, marries boy and calls girl once a month. Has children and never calls girl again.

This was no exact scenario but she did have a friend in college, a sorority sister and the two were inseparable. She married one of the offensive lineman who played with Parker and the two were now married with a kid and living in Florida. They talked on occasion but her one time best friend was a mom now and living a life she could not understand, but she wanted to. Maybe that was the reason why she finally made the

decision to probe Parker one last time, take a quick look see wondering if anything had changed. It hadn’t. So she needed to move on, it was time to discover the life she yearned for, the life her sorority sister now knew. It changed her and it would change Skylar and she wanted to move through that transformation more than she wanted anything. It didn’t have to happen tomorrow, next week, next month, or even next year, but it had to happen… eventually, and as long as she remained with Parker she would find herself ten years from now in the same spot, never growing, never moving, never finding what she wanted most in life… a family of her own.

The internal verbal sparring started up again.

Maybe Donnie is the answer.

He’s not exactly our type What is ‘our’ type?

Parker...’sigh’ He’s not on the menu.

If he was, he would definitely be on the dessert menu.

Exactly! Along with the other things that we don’t need.

Yes! But do you remember the carousel?

A warm sensation bubbled up in her lower regions as she recalled the carousel memory.

Won’t ever forget the carousel.

That was the night she fell in love. For her birthday, her family always took her to the county fair as it conveniently came around at the same time of year. She loved the county fair, it was her favorite time of year. The nights cool and comfortable, and the smells would permeate the air for miles around. Everything there was bad for your heart and your waistline but it was like honey for the soul; fried corn, fried snicker bars, caramel apples, fried chicken on a stick, polish sausage dogs as big as your face, and her all time favorites, cotton candy and funnel cakes.

Her favorite ride was the carousel. She could care less about the other rides, the scary ones that moved way too fast. She enjoyed life’s simpler pleasures and the carousel was right up there. She could ride for hours and even had her favorite horse. She would sit in the saddle of the immobile horse and twirl around and around munching on strips of cotton candy and the ooey gooey goodness of a funnel cake. She would have powdered sugar all over her mouth and down the front of her shirt but everything good thing in life had a price.

Inevitably, Parker figured out how much she loved the carnival. She didn’t have to tell him, he could see the excitement on her face when autumn rolled around.

Parker, being the football star in their small town, could garner favors from people that ordinary town folk could never pull off.

Their first semester in college, he drove her home from Tuscaloosa, and had this elaborate date planned. Having spoken with the fair manager, Parker had convinced him to open the park one night early. When they showed up the night of their date, he found the gate unlocked and the concourses vacated exactly as he had planned.

He had volunteered to work the fair during high school so he knew how to work many of the rides but most importantly he knew how to make cotton candy and funnel cakes.

With treats in hand he led her to the carousel. It was the only ride he was allowed to use, but he knew it was all he needed.

“Are you sure we are allowed to do this?”

He gave her his confident smile, the one that always made her melt at the knees.

“Of course.” He leaned over and gave her a powder sugared kiss. “Trust me, the manager’s a friend.”

He went over to the controls and started up the carousel. The lights came on and casting her in their glow yellow-orangish glow. “Find your horse me-lady.” He said, bowing at the waist and walked over to the controls. Music began to play a tune more familiar to her than any lullaby. She didn’t not need to hear the words to sing them Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer true…

I’m half crazy all for the love of you It won’t be a fancy marriage I can’t afford a carriage But you’ll look sweet Upon the seat Of a bicycle built for two She went for her horse but stopped at the imitation carriage just in front. She climbed in and sat down as the carousel began to turn. Parker walked over, found her and joined her. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined.

“I figured you would ride your horse.”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” She crossed her right leg over his lap and sat facing him, her head inches above his her eyes staring down into his eyes. With the world spinning around them, she gave to Parker the one part of her she only give the first time.

The sensation of his touch seemed to caress every inch of her exposed flesh, all at the same time. There clothes littered the floor and their bodies glistened with beads of perspiration and their skin bubbled with gooseflesh.

The memory of their lovemaking sent the shudder of the a thousand earthquakes across the years to ripple through her midsection and make her shiver with excitement.

That was hot!

It was icky!

Did we ever regret making him our first?

Not a single time.

The dual parts of her nature agreed on that at least.

“Are you all right?” Allison asked her. “You’re face is flushed. You’re not running a fever are you?”

If only she knew. Her duality fanned themselves. “I’m fine.” That was a lie, she obviously wasn’t fine and she wasn’t over Parker either. No matter how much she wanted to be.

Rehearsal ran until nine in the evening. Beads of sweat ran down Skylar’s exposed mid drift like condensation on a drinking glass. Even Coach Jules had to stop and catch her breath and she was in better shape than many Navy SEALs. She applauded her team.

“Great work up girls, but I still need to see more. We have a long way to go before Sunday but I will see you back here on Wednesday for round two.”

Coach Jules dismissed them and all of them slogged back to the locker room eager for the shower. Skylar felt renewed when she returned to the gym, showered and smelling like lilac soap and rose shampoo, but she moved slow, every muscle in her body ached, none of them more than her heart.

Allison passed her. “See you at home.” And off she galloped with more energy than Skylar could fill in four lifetimes.

Her brain was eager to return once more to the memory of the carousel and her first time ever making love to Parker, to any man. She did not regret choosing him as her first because she loved him. Except her father she probably loved him more than all other men on the planet. She never felt closer to him than she had that night and she had filed the memory correctly as the night she fell in love.

She was happier then because life was simpler and it seemed to slow down. It moved at warp speed now, passing her by before she could even catch a glimpse of it.

“Skylar!” A woman’s voice, trembling shook from her thoughts. Her slow ambled walk brought her as far as the middle of the gymnasium. She looked up to see one of her team members coming through the entrance. “Allison fell and she’s hurt!”

Skylar came at a run clutching the gym bag to her shoulder. She blasted through one pair of the double doors. There was a set of concrete steps that ran accordioning down to a paved sidewalk. Allison lay on her back gripping her knee, her face twisted in pain as tears streamed down her face. Two other girls flanked her and tried to keep her still while the third went for Skylar.

“Oh my gosh! What happened?”

“She was just coming down the steps when her knee buckled. We managed to catch her or otherwise she would have hit her head.”

Skylar knelt down beside Allison. “Can you help me get her up?” She asked one of the girls. “I’ll take her to the emergency room.”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Allison cried.

Skylar hooked an arm over her shoulder and with the aid of the other girls they brought Allison to her feet. “Lean on my Alli and I’ll get you to the hospital.”

Allison limped to the G35, a woman crutch under each arm. With some pain they moved her into the passenger seat and closed the door. Skylar fished her keys from her gym bag and hopped in behind the wheel. She began to sweat again, moisture droplets forming on her forehead and above her lip.

The flung the gear into reverse and sped from the parking lot. tires screaming across the pavement. “My knee hurts.” Allison told her. “But you don’t have to kill us trying to get me to the ER.” Skylar was panting now. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head.”

“I’m positive, so slow down, please.”

No more prompting from Allison required, Skylar’s foot eased off the accelerator. In light evening traffic the G35 pulled beneath the canopy of the nearest ER center. With the car idling she helped Allison into a wheelchair. An orderly was there to assist while she went and found a parking space.

Returning to the lobby she found Allison still in a lot of pain, seated in the wheelchair.

It took an hour before they finally reached a room. A nurse came in and checked her blood pressure and a quick assessment. After entering her assessments into the computer on the wall she left again, swing the curtain closed, metal rings singing across the steel bar.

Fifteen minutes later the doctor came in his face buried in Allison’s chart. “Miss Monroe my name is Doctor Lupinnaci.”

That was a name Skylar could not expect to hear again in a hundred years. Her eyes shot up to see Donnie, white coat on, paper chart in hand. He saw her too.

“Oh, well hello again.”

Allison wasn’t in so much pain to see that the two of them had some kind of instant connection.

“You didn’t tell me you were a doctor.”

“That would have been a bit pretentious of me. Hi, my name is Doctor Donnie.” He emphasized the word to prove his point.

He was right that would have been pretentious. Allison continued to watch the two of them her eyes darting from one to the other and then back again. “I guess you have a point.”

Remembering why he was there in the first Dr. Donnie went over to Allison’s leg and checked its mobility. He asked her how it happened and Allison relayed the story. “I don’t think we have any ligament damage, but I’ll run an MRI just to be sure.” He wrote the order down in his notes. As he wrote he addressed Skylar. “I was going to call you tomorrow, would that have been too soon?” Allison was the patient but she felt as though she didn’t belong in the room.

Skylar shook her head. “Not at all.”

“I’m not much of a dancer, but I’m eager to learn if you’re willing to teach me. I’d like to take you to dinner then maybe out for a little dancing?”

Skylar nodded her head. “I would like that.”

Turning back to Allison, he said, “Do you have any medicines you are allergic to?”

Allison shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

“All right. I’ll get you a little something for the pain. Then I’ll check back in with you after I get the results of your MRI.” Turning once more to Skylar he shifted out of doctor mode and into Casanova gear. “I’ll text you tomorrow for your address.” He smiled a genuine smile. “Good to see you again so soon.” Remembering Allison he looked at his patient again. “Sorry it had to happen like this though.” He gave her wink as he closed the door behind him.

A faux smile traced across Allison’s lips that vanished as the door swung shut. “Ok, how do you know scrubalicious?”

Skylar turned wide eyes on her friend, her eyebrows arching and creasing her forehead. “Scrubalicious?” He was cute but that’s not a name she would use to describe him.

Allison fanned herself. “I thought I was going to faint when he touched my leg.” Her smile reappeared this one dreamy and authentic.

“You think he’s handsome?”

“You don’t?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “He’s ok.”

“Ok? When he started touching my leg I almost told him that my girlie lumps hurt too and ask if he wanted to check those out while he was at it.”

Skylar snickered. “You are too bad.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

“At the coffee shop this morning. I was studying in my ipad when he just walked over to me and introduced himself.”

“If only a dreamy doctor would walk into the coffee shop of my life.” After pondering that hope for a moment she asked, “Do you think Parker saw you talking to him?”

Skylar looked down and focused on the toe of her sneaker. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I also don’t care. Serves him right, I hope he did.” That was half truth and half lie.

She wanted to hurt him but the thought of breaking his heart shattered her own. It was all part of that dual nature thing again.

“Well, if you decide to throw him away, toss a sister a bone and let me take a nibble.”

A wicked look crawled across Allison’s face.

The two women shared a fleeting laugh, then the nurse came in, gave her a shot of demerol, the laughing stopped and the snoring commenced.

Parker Arriving at the Raider’s complex in Alameda, California, Parker slammed the door and snatched his bag from the back of his truck. Head down, he quietly proceeded towards the entrance way. Off the property photographers snapped their shots of him for various magazines and a couple of television camera captured footage that may be used in some broadcast on ESPN or the local news’ sports segment. If Parker noticed any of these things, he gave no indication entering the building through the front door, with his eyes turned on his toes and his gym bag slung over his right shoulder.

He went to locker room, dressed for his workout and hit the exercise bike. He released his anger on the bike, ripping across the synthesized course on the tv monitor in front of him. Sweat poured from his forehead, pooling at the nape of his neck. By the time he completed the course every muscle in his lower quadrants burned and he struggled to stay on his feet.

He toweled off, then went into the film room. In the dark, he watched his AFC Championship opponent. The Indianapolis Colts fielded an all pro linebacker that could haunt a quarterbacks dreams, He could be anywhere on the field at any given time.

Number fifty eight, nicknamed Grim, could drop into coverage, read the throwing lanes, step in front of a pass and he would be standing in the end zone spiking the ball before the quarterback ever realized the ball had even left his hand.

The last game the Raiders lost was to the Colts, blown out by more thirty points, the game was over at halftime. Grim blindsided Parker on a back side blitz, he failed to read correctly. The collision forced a fumble and the Colts recovered the football in Raiders’ territory. It took their offense two plays to score and they were off and running. When he brought his team to the line of scrimmage, Parker’s first responsibility was to locate Grim, he always had to account for Grim because his location on the field tipped the defense’s coverage.

His mind began to wander away from the tape and hellish two hundred and fifty pound linebacker no longer frightened him. He forgot about the bone jarring hit and the potential for interceptions. There was only…

Skylar He saw her again, laughing with that other man. She liked him, really liked him. She was touching his arm…

The door to the film room swung, light raced in from the hall. His offensive coordinator put his head in. “Parker. Take it to the field, time for practice.”

Drying his face with a towel, he stood gathered his playbook and notes and went to the locker room.

All the guys were there, a symphony of different conversations all happening at one time made it impossible for anyone to think. Parker welcomed the noise for it quieted the ghost clinging the yards of chain around inside his head. He sat down in his chair and just soaked it all in. Here in this locker room he had everything he ever wanted. These men, all of them, starters or backups, were like brothers to him. To compare football to war is maybe sacrilegious but a band of brothers in arms is all that can compare to the bond one has for his teammates.

Brothers fought and competed, just as they did in a traditional family. In here he could lock away the noise and storms raging beyond those locker room doors. In here he could forget…

Skylar…

Her name again. The word bouncing about in his head like a kid hyped up on sugar and trapped inside an inflatable house.

Skylar! Skylar! Skylar!

The repetition matched the beating of his heart. He let his hands fall into his head.

Why did he have to be so stupid? Why did he not tell her how he felt when he had the chance? Had he lost her? Forever? He did not have the answers right now but that was not what his aching heart needed to hear. He needed to know there was still a chance.

Oh God, please give me one last chance.

“Abbey!” Coach Parson’s voice pulled him from the cavernous depths where he fell, spiraling downward into his dark subconscious, untethered by any cords to conscious reality. he watching chomping on a large wad of Big Red. Parker could smell the scent of cinnamon all the way down in his chair. “Snap out of it, will ya. What’s wrong with you? You all right?”

Parker slowly raised his eyes to meet his head coach. “A little headache, that’s all.”

“See the doctor before you head out there. Snatch a couple of aspirin, drink plenty of fluids. It’s going to be a hot one out there and I don’t want you passing out on me. Olsen will simulate Grim.” Slapping him on the shoulders he added, “Now get dressed or you’ll start eating into my time.”

Every movement felt tantamount to shifting bags of sand to fend off neck high flood waters. He pulled on his practice pants and a yellow practice jersey over his shoulder pads.

He never saw the doc about those aspirin as the whole headache cover was just bullshit any way. He did go to the trainers table to have his ankles taped and hydrated while he sat on the table.

With his ankles wrapped he went out and began to throw. He made a few passes to a trainer, stretched, made a few more passes then after some footwork drills he joined Colby and the other wide receivers for some warm up routes.

His arm felt like a bazooka on his shoulder, every one striking the target between the numbers. Even Colby had to flex his hands to bring back the feeling in his fingers and relieve the tingling sensation.

The sounding of the horn brought the two teams together for some live action scrimmaging. Parker was the only player off limits, the red numbers on his jersey emphasized the coach’s instructions.

Coach Parsons assembled the offense. “Remember Olsen is wearing number fifty eight. The defensive coordinator will send him on a couple of designed blitzes and route audibles. Find him and make the right read.”

Parker gave his offensive team the play and brought them to the line. He looked for Olsen and found him over the middle. Could be a blitz, could be pass protection. Parker called for a fake snap, saw Olsen begin to cheat up towards the line of scrimmage and audibled for the blitz. The new route would bring Colby right into the space vacated by the blitzing linebacker. Olsen, wearing his fifty eight jersey did what Grim would do and changed the play with a couple of hand signals.

Parker took the snap, but Olsen did not blitz. Reading Parker’s audible he instead dropped back into coverage which Parker did not see. He found Colby threw a bullet pass that would have stuck right in between the two eights on Colby’s chest, but the pass never got there. Reaching up Olsen scraped the pass from the air cradled it in for an interception and took off for the sidelines. Only a blown whistle stopped him from strutting into the end zone.

“What the hell was that?” Coach Parson’s yelled. “Did you not see him audible away from the blitz.” That was a rhetorical question because the head coach already knew the answer. “Pay more attention, Parker. Now do it again.”

Parker delivered the play call in the huddle and followed his offensive lineman up to the line of scrimmage. He searched the middle of the field but Robo Grimm was nowhere in sight. Parker, almost called out the wrong middle linebacker, but remembered to check his blind side and he found him there, he was ready to charge from the line of scrimmage as a sixth rusher.

Parker adjusted his protection to his left side. The running back would now slide up and provide protection on the backside of the play. At the snap, Robo Grim used good technique to fend off the block but it slowed him down just enough to give Parker time to go through his progressions and find the open man.

The tall rangy target cut turned towards the center of the field, his black Eighty Two shown to the quarterback like a target in a shooting gallery. Parker cocked and fired the shot.

Too high!

He knew it as soon as the ball left his hand. It sailed over the outstretched hand of his intended target and drifted harmlessly to the turf.

“Footwork, Parker, footwork. Come on kid, focus. Concentrate!” The purplish veins in his neck bulged out as he yelled instructions to his quarterback.

They tried again, but this time Parker missed the blitz entirely and Olsen put two hands on him before he ever threw the ball, simulating the sack and a seven yard loss on the play. The coaches blew the whistle again but this time Coach Parson’s slammed his hat to the turf. He stomped around the grass for five minutes cursing the day his quarterback’s birthday.

Parker tried again, connecting on a sixty yard perfect strike to Colby along the sidelines. That drew reverent praise from the previously irate head coach.

The next attempt Parker read the blitz right but his footwork threw off his pass and it sailed over the head of his intended receiver and into the hands of the awaiting safety who was playing the center of the field. Parker slammed both hands against his helmet.

Coach Parson’s did not suffer through a conniption after the last interception. He was pleased his quarterback was making the right reads. They could correct the footwork issues as the week progressed.

“Get some water.” The head coach told his star passer. “Let some of the other guys have a shot at it.”

After his hydration break, Parker was back under center, but he misread the defense again and threw into double coverage when he tried forcing a down the field throw to Colby.

The cornerback picked off the errant pass this time and ran until the whistle blew the play dead.

Coach Parsons’ kicked at some unseen object on the ground, wishing it was Parker’s severed head. Scratching his head, he barked. “Again!”

The next offensive series went a little better. A screen pass beat the blitz by Robo Grim and it led to a sizeable gain. The next pass was a quick hitter to Colby who caught the pass and turned it up field for a first down. The third pass in the series was a swing pass to the running back over Robo Grim’s fingertips which led to a gain of twenty.

Then the next play happened. Feeling the groove of the game Parker, brought his guys to the line of scrimmage. Olsen, or Robo Grim, move up to the middle of the line of scrimmage. Backed off then at the last second shifted to his left, to Parker’s right. That just so happened to be Parker’s pre snap read. The tight end had the open seam route in the middle of the field.

Robo Grim read it and jumped the route. This time the coach’s just let him run before blowing the play dead. Coach Parsons’ came over to Parker, his face reddened by anger and frustration. “You pathetic piece of garbage!” The head coach waylaid a verbal assault right into Parker’s face, spittal flying through bared teeth spraying into Parker’s clear plastic eye shield.

Parker had taken all he could handle. Grabbing the coach by the collar of his t-shirt he nearly lifted the sixty year old man off his feet and flung him to the ground. He went after him too. hands tightened into fists but his teammates interceded and broke up the maylay.

Colby came over and circled his arms around his friends waist and pulled him away from the downed coach. Parker immediately realized the depth of his mistake. He stripped off his helmet and left the field on his own. Trainers and staff followed but they kept their distance from the quarterback.

Back inside the locker room he slammed his helmet against the wall and flung it across the floor. It rolled into a pair of Cole Haan slip on loafers. An aged and liver spotted hand reached down, clutched the helmet by the facemask and returned it to the owner.

“This must be yours.” The silver haired gentleman, dressed in a silver lined pin striped suit offered the lost helmet. A silver pocket square in his left breast pocket matched the tie he wore over his pressed white shirt.

“Coach Ruff? What are you doing here?” Ben Ruffalo was his college head coach, the man who came to his home and recruited him to the University of Alabama and a sixty year veteran of the profession.

“The owner invited me out here to see you prepare the team for this big game this weekend, but I haven’t seen much so far.”

“Me neither.” Parker slumped forward in his chair, head coming to rest on open palms, knees propping up his elbows.

“Something is bothering you, I can see that.” When Parker looked up the old coach had taken a chair opposite. He was in a seated position, legs crossed, right over the left, and his hands folded in his lap. “Now, I don’t want you to tell me what it is. To be frank, I don’t really care. I was born with more worries and troubles than I deserved and I’m not about to add to it by piling your crap on top of my own. Whatever it is that is eating at you,

is also eating away at your teammates. They feel the stress of this game just like you do, but you are their leader and they are looking to you for guidance and confidence. They need to know that you won’t crack under the strain because the entire team will go down with you if you do.”

Parker felt a aged memory creep across the bowels of his brain like a spider. He could see himself sitting in Coach Ruff’s office back inside the athletic center back in Tuscaloosa. The memory that came to him seemed so vivid and so real that he was almost certain he could reach out and touch the participants.

Coach Ruff sat behind a large oak desk with Parker seated on the edge of a cushioned chair, his nervous feet dancing beneath the chair.

“I’m transferring Coach.” That was how he remembered starting off the conversation. He was a redshirt freshman at the time. A young promising talent who had just lost his starting job during spring practice to another guy who could not boast one quarter the talent Parker possessed in his middle finger. “I feel I need to go to a team where I’m appreciated.”

“I hate to hear that Parker.” Coach Ruff told but he did not look the least bit upset by the thought of losing such a valuable commodity to the team. “I respect your decision of course but I wouldn’t mind if you shared with me the reasons behind your transfer request.”

“I just don’t think you fully appreciate what I can do for this team.”

Coach Russ reached into his top desk drawer and began to pull out rings, nine of them them in total, each one a different championship from a various years than spanned his six decades as a coach and as a player . He won two as a young up and coming defensive back in college. He had four Super Bowl rings two as a player and two as an assistant. Then there were the three different national championships he won as head coach of the University of Alabama.

“When you first came into this office I showed you a couple of these rings and you told me that you had the stuff to help me win a few more of these. So far, all I have seen is a kid with a golden arm who can put up big numbers and win lots of trophies. I wouldn’t give a whore dirty drawers for any player who thinks only of his own accolades. If I didn’t believe you had what it took to be great leader of men I never would have invited you here to put on that uniform, but all I see in front of me right now is a self-centered child who cares only about himself and not to nickels worth for the team. I don’t need or want that kind of player around here and if you plan to leave then do us both a favor and make it quick.”

Coach Ruff began filing the rings back into his drawer. “I only want players who win.

Parker Abbey you are no winner.”

He decided to remain at Alabama and the conversation they shared that day drifted into history. By the end of summer camp, before week one preparations began Parker Abbey was the starting quarterback for the University of Alabama, a job he held onto until graduation day.

Coach Ruff taught him how to lead and he still taught him. “Coach Ruff, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to practice. Come see me afterwards. I like to catch up if we can.”

The old football coach nodded. “That would be a delight son, I’ll look forward to that.”

Parker returned to the practice field where Coach Parsons’ continued his tantrums at the lack of production from his offense. Before heading out to the field Parker allowed one final thought to enter his mind about Skylar.

I’m putting you in the basement babe, just until I get this game won. Then, you and I can have it out. But right now my teammates need me and I’m ready to move on.

He carried his helmet by the facemask as he approached the field. “Coach.” He said to the head coach when he was close enough for him to hear.

Parsons knew Parker Abbey was there he did not need to turn and look in direction to prove it. “What is it Parker?”

“I want to apologize Coach.”

“I not the one you are letting down out here Parker. These guys deserve more from you than what you gave them today. You owe them the apology not me.”

“Yessir.” Parker agreed. “As soon as practice I will address my teammates but I would like it if you would let me give it one more go.”

“One more go?” Coach Parson’s blew his whistle to stop the practice. “All right.

Let’s give it one more go.”

Parker pulled on his helmet and went into the huddle. His mind clear of the personal clutter he now could see the plan unfolding even before it happened.

He called for the snap from under center after a five step drop he read the middle of the field found the middle linebacker and the safety vacate a delivered a rifle shot right on target. Eighty-Two broke his middle finger catching the pass for a twenty-two yard gain.

Parker now in the shotgun raised his foot to call for the snap. He again located Robo Grim on the blitz stepped in the pocket and found Colby down the seam for a touchdown.

Coaches flipped the field and Parker now how a minute and fifty seconds to take his team eighty yards. First play from scrimmage was a hitch route to the outside. The receiver caught it as he turned his route and ran up field for a gain of fifteen, stepping out of bounds to stop the clock.

Hurrying to the line he read the defense, located Robo Grimm and called for the snap. He did a quick turn and delivered a heater of a fastball to a streaking receiver who caught the pass right in front of Olsen.

Up to the line of scrimmage with under a minute left to go, Parker settled his troops and again read the defense. Two high safeties, seven defenders hovering near the line of scrimmage.

At the snap the blitzing linebackers came free but Parker hit his running back down the sideline. He made one tackler miss, and twenty yards later he scampered out of bounds. The offense was now in field goal range but they had to score the touchdown.

He brought Colby in motion. His favorite target moved from the left sideline to the inside slot position alongside the left tackle. Parker had him split the seam.

With his eyes leading the safety away from his intended target he turned quickly and threw a pass that hummed like a bee through the air. Colby elevated over the single man coverage from the cornerback and caught the ball at the back of the end zone, planting both feet inside the line for the touchdown.

“You think you’re hot stuff now?” Coach Parsons asked him with hands on his hips, gums still gnawing on the Big Red like a cow chewing cud. “That wasn’t half bad. Do it like that tomorrow and I might actually crack a smile.”

After practice the team showered, dressed and assembled in the meeting room.

Parker stood before them at first uncertain what might come out of his mouth.

“I owe you all an apology for my behaviour today. I did not show the kind of leadership you deserve from your quarterback. I let my emotions get the better of me and for that I am deeply remorseful.” He broke down now as the tears overwhelmed his power to dam them up. “I let you down and for that I am truly sorry. It will never, ever happen again.”

Colby stood first and bounding forward caught his quarterback in a bear hug that lifted him off the stage. The entire Raider organization, coaches and training staff exploded into rapturous applause. His head coach would probably hit his wallet pretty big for the incident but for now, Parker had the forgiveness of his teammates and that was all he needed. The walls cracked but they did not fall, but soon the real Grim would deliver his calling card and a great multitude of titans would follow him into battle and on the grounds of the Coliseum the stones would come down, crumbling like the walls of Jericho.

Coach Ruff When Coach Ruffalo first saw Parker Abbey, he was a six feet three puny kid with a rubber arm that could snap a ball sixty yards before it ever touched the ground. The kid Coach Ruff watched in the first half of his game that cool Halloween night was a scrawny, cocky kid with raw abilities he believed he could nurture but in his wildest dreams he would never have imagined how good the kid would actually be.

When Parker arrived at the University the following summer he learned early how much his life had changed. The defensive linemen pursuing him all weighed in excess of three hundred pounds, strong as ox, and as fast as gazelles. The cornerback and safeties could close in on his passes like a moth to a flame. After his first scrimmage he considered quitting, but he remembered that Coach Ruff believed in him.

After every interception, sack or incorrect read the coach remained nurturing.

Showing him how to do it the right way. When he corrected that mistake but followed it with another his head coach applauded the effort and praised him for his coachability.

Soon, the boy with the golden arm from Indian Springs, Alabama began to complete passes. He began making correct reads and his release quickened. His footwork improved and with better posture and body position he began to drop passes into his receivers hands.

Coach Ruff became like the father he never had and he began to unconsciously emulate his mentor. As he transitioned from the bench to a starter during his sophomore season, his play became robotic.

When the offense scored, Parker would not celebrate with his teammates. He instead walked casually over to the sidelines, removed his helmet, and accepted a handshake from the head coach. “Nice job.” He would say casually, as though he expected nothing less, which of course he did.

Things did not always go so well and when the train went off the tracks the temper would flame up like steam from an old boiler whose gauge had surpassed the red line. The coach would prowl the sidelines like a large cat waiting to pounce. A lion, a mountain lion, a cougar, a panther or a tiger. Pick your ferocity for all are fitting descriptions.

Parker was known to have such bursts and once gave so harsh a tongue lashing to a freshman who failed to give all effort for an overthrown pass, that Coach Ruff felt compelled to pull his senior quarterback to the side and remind him that sometimes nurturing a player did as much or more than an ass chewing. That same freshman wide receiver now makes millions of dollars playing in the NFL and he is well known for his insatiable desire to catch every pass thrown his way. So go figure.

Everything Parker stood for as a man, all of his values, his passion to succeed, his desire to do the right thing as a player and as a citizen, his drive to make everyone around him better, and his singular focus on the goal are all a part of the influence Coach Ruff had on him as young man. Even though their relationship was relatively new, the old man had had more of an effect on him as an individual than any other man on planet earth.

“Do you want to win?” It was the question Coach Ruff asked Parker the first time they ever spoke.

You bet your sweet old ass I do. That’s not what Parker told him, but he wanted to.

The actual answer was, “Yes sir. I sure do.”

“Good, then come to Alabama. If you want to win accolades and trophies then you can go some place else. I don’t give two shakes of a prick about stats and sportscenter top ten plays. I care only about winning. If you come play for me, I promise you, I’ll teach you how to be a winner.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

The preparation, the drive and the will to do the right thing even when he knew with absolute certainty no one was looking. He never drank, smoked, or took illegal drugs. He never accepted fifty dollar handshakes, free furniture, or anything other gift or loan from any booster or sports agent. He signed autographs for free and posed for pictures on twitter.

He always went to class, studied hard and made decent grades. He graduated in three years and earned a masters degree in his fifth. After signing his contract he donated a million dollars to the Baptist church back home, paid off his momma’s mortgage and bought a truck. He invested the rest in a diversified portfolio that many wall street types would envy. He was now worth over one hundred million dollars and he wasn’t even thirty. There was only one lesson, Coach Ruff taught him that he forgot.

The life of a college coach is a very difficult one. Coach Ruff managed a very hectic schedule that began every morning at four am. He began his day with a brisk jog around the late with his dalmatian, Rhett.

After two cups of coffee, breakfast then a shower he reached his office by six. He had lunch at his desk and then finished the day by ten at night. No matter what, he always went home at ten because nothing was more important than the one hour he spent at night alone talking with his wife.

After her passing a few years back, many thought the old codger would just take up residence in his office, but he never did. He always left at ten. Only this time, he did not drive home. He drove to the cemetery, sat down beside her grave and he would talk to her.

On foggy nights, he thought he could see her shadowy form drifting through the wisps of earth bound clouds, come from heaven to hear his incessant ramblings one last time.

That was the lesson Coach Ruff taught that Parker either forgot or completely ignored. He never seemed to grasp the importance of coming home to someone who loves you.

After the team meeting, Parker saw Coach Ruff outside in the hallway. There was no one else around so he had to be waiting to see him.

“I was hoping you would join me for dinner.”

Parker knew Coach Ruff well enough to know that his old head coach always had a purpose to everything he did and his curiosity peaked.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Parker assured him. “Should we meet around seven.”

“Seven it is. Downstairs in the lobby of my hotel.”

At the appointed time, Parker arrived at the coach’s hotel. The valet of course recognized him and after pumping his hand he begged for a picture. Parker smiled genuinely as a co-worker snapped the photo from a smartphone.

That was not the only picture, either. Two ladies, both of them brunettes and tipsy off wine they drank in their room, stopped him as he entered the hotel. They had one of the hotel employees snap the picture while each woman cupped his ass. That would give them a sneaky bit of pleasure every time they looked at the photograph on their twitter account.

A young boy and his father stopped him next and he honestly didn’t mind posing for this photo. He knelt beside the boy, probably six or seven and smiled as the proud father took the photograph. That one was probably on its way to twitter too, but at least it had a chance to land in a family album at some point.

Once he finally arrived at his table he was fifteen minutes past his time. Coach Ruff was already seated, legs crossed, and impatiently thumbing the top of the table.

“Sorry I’m late, I got caught up in the lobby.”

Coach Ruff did not address the apology because he did not accept it. Chance favors the prepared mind. He always liked to say. You should prepare for every acceptable eventuality. If coming to dinner at an agreed upon time, one should expect fans to ask for photographs and autographs along the way, so one should show up fifteen minutes early and not keep a busy man waiting.

Parker took a chair opposite Coach Ruff and the waiter came over to take their drink orders. They both asked for water.

For dinner they both ordered a wedge salad with blue cheese and a single cherry tomato. Coach Ruff made the order because it was the same dinner he’d eaten every night for the last thirty years, a habit Parker absorbed somewhere along the way.

“I probably should get down to the real reason I came to see you.” Coach Ruff said, snapping his linen napkin across his lap. “I like you Parker, but I don’t make it a habit of watching my former players practice.”

“I thought that it was odd to see you.” Parker admitted.

“Well, truth is I was here on a recruiting trip and thought I would stick my head in and say hello.”

Even this sounded implausible, knowing the coach as well as he did. “Were you happy with what you saw?”

“From you?”

“No, the recruit.”

“Yes. Big kid, fast defensive lineman, long arms with an inside move that I haven’t seen since my assistant coaching days.”

“Hmm,” Parker chewed. There was always another stud right around the corner wasn’t there? And if there was Coach Ruff would be the first to find him. “How old is he?”

“Fifteen, kids only a sophomore.”

Yep. That was the answer Parker expected. “You make him an offer.”

“Sure as hell did! Right on the spot, first one too.” His voice dimmed and a look appeared in his eyes that seemed to peer toward some distant realm that only he could see.

“Only, I won’t be around to see him play.”

Parker stabbed his lettuce wedge and looked at his coach whose eyes glistened with tears that formed in each corner. “What are you saying coach?”

“I’m dying Parker.” His voice was shaking now as were his hands.

“Dying?” He asked as though the concept applied to every human being on the planet with the exception of Coach Ruff. “I don’t understand.”

“I just found out last week, I have stage 3 pancreatic cancer and its far too advanced for surgery.”

Parker felt a thick bar of metal stamp across his lips. His senses heightened and for the first time he began to hear the noises of the room that he previously tuned out. The soft orchestra music in the background, the din of noise now lay as rich in the room as a thick layer of cake frosting.

Hands shaking as much from old age as emotion, Coach Ruff continued. “I’m announcing my retirement at a news conference tomorrow at the school. I wanted you to be the first to hear it and also I wanted to ask you to eulogize me.”

“Me?” He was both appalled and honored by the request. “Why me?”

Coach Ruff shrugged. “Who knows or understands me better than you?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask, Coach, of course I will.” Parker removed the fork from the lettuce wedge and threw it down. The metal clanked around the porcelain plate.

“What’s the matter?” Coach Ruff could see the anguish in Parker’s face.

“Everything!” He said pulling his napkin off his lap and tossing it on the table. “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe you are giving up, it’s not like you to just give up without a fight!”

Coach Ruff dabbed at his lips with his own napkin and waited for Parker’s tirade to reach its inevitable conclusion. “Are you finished?”

Parker nodded.

“Good. Now I want you to hear what I am about to tell you because this will come in handy at some point in the future for you.” He folded his napkin at the corners and placed it across his plate. “My life has spanned across nine different decades and these old eyes have seen quite a bit. I’ve watched mankind move faster and faster and higher and higher.

I’ve seen us achieve things in my lifetime that my parents would never have believed possible. Yet with all those achievements and scientific breakthroughs. man has not yet figured out a way to cheat death. It is the one game that everyone must lose. My fourth quarter is almost done and there is no heroic quarterback to pull this game out in the last two minutes.”

“But isn’t there something you could do? Radiation therapy? Chemotherapy?

Something?”

Coach Ruff reached over and cupped his star pupil’s hand in an almost unheard of sign of compassion. “I know you care and I love you for that. I do. If you were to give me the same news I would offer you the same advice. Despite our similarities, I am an old man and you are young. There is still much life ahead of you while my song is on its last stanza.

The treatments you mentioned could heal my illness, but my strength is waning, and they are almost as likely to kill me as the cancer. I don’t have the strength to fight and more importantly I don’t have the will. I had a good life. I’ve had the unique opportunity to influence the lives of so many great young men.”

“I know. I was one of them.”

Coach Ruff smiled a smile so large that it could fill Grand Central Station. “I know I did. But I can’t take all the credit. You wanted someone to emulate and you picked me. I was more honored by that than I was by any championship you won.”

Parker turned his eyes away and began to cry.

“Hey! There will be none of that now.”

Parker smudged the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“You can save that mush mush crap for the ladies.” Coach Ruff’s trembling finger jabbed at the air between him and Parker. “I’ll not have you wasting your grief on an old man whose time has come. I’ve come to grips with it, now so should you.”

He summoned the waiter and paid the tab with cash from his wallet. He never did use credit cards, never understood them the same way he never understood much of anything in the computerized age. As he stood Parker saw him change in the way a fictional shape shifter could switch identities. Coach Ruff seemed to transform from the full of life teacher and mentor he’d always known to a man battered and withered by time, but he could still see that old strength in the bones that pushed his body upward and erect.

Laying a hand on the student, the teacher said, “I hope this is not the last time we see each other, but, if it is, I want you to know something. Parker you did not succeed because of me. You succeeded because you never took success for granted. You always worked for it and I was always proud of you. If I have one regret, it’s that I did not tell you sooner.”

That is how he left it.

Skylar Skylar loved all of the girls who made up her Raiderette squad. They were the largest part of her life for three years now but as she slipped into her knee high white boots, she wondered if this would be her last season. She stared at herself in the mirror, her blonde hair twisted into an army of curls and ringlets. As she applied her makeup she realized that the face staring back at her from the reflection in the mirror had changed in the last week.

Should I make life changing decisions based after my relationship with Parker finally reached its inevitable conclusion? She wondered.

Certainly not. At least not yet. She had the offseason to worry about that but she needed to come to some conclusion about her future. She would graduate from law school at the end of the semester and had aspirations of moving back east to clerk for a supreme court or federal judge while she prepared for the bar exam. Even if she decided to stay on the west coast, her career would keep her so occupied she doubted she would have the time to dedicate to the grueling rehearsal schedule.

Skylar’s face soured and she stared at the pretty girl’s reflection in the mirror. She seemed innocent and full of promise but ill prepared for the future that would permanently alter her life. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Did you not know this would happen? How could not prepare yourself for this?

Didn’t you know it was coming? That was the voice of her mother, hitching a ride on her subconscious like a blood sucking tick. She imagined it was also her future voice somewhere buried deep inside her fear of change, waiting patiently for her time to emerge.

The voice she would save for her own children someday.

If that day comes. She thought.

It will come when the right one comes along. That was her motherly voice talking.

I thought he had but he didn’t want to be the one.

Maybe that was for the best. Her mother’s voice again, soothing and uplifting.

Maybe we weren’t as ready to be a wife and a mother as we thought. We have a career to

think about, a career we have worked very hard to achieve. Are we ready to throw it all away just to Mrs Parker Abbey.

Feminists everywhere would rejoice. Power to the poontang! Her inner child made a fist and pumped it in the air.

We could have Parker Abbey and a career too.

Don’t be so stupid girl! You know better than that. Marriage is where a female’s career goes to die.

Her inner child, the one connected with her sentimental side remained silent for a moment then asked, But that wouldn’t be so bad.

Her independent nature had no reply because both side of her knew the answer. It wouldn’t be so bad, not so bad at all. She wanted her career but she knew she would throw it all away for the opportunity to be a wife and a mother. That was the truest desire of her heart. She wanted to be a good prosecutor maybe even district attorney someday but her ambition took the back seat to her love for Parker. She still loved him.

And we always will, but we have to move on. Her motherly side again, rational and unsentimental in delivering the exact truth. Because he did not love us.

She did not want to believe it but she had to, because that was how it was.

But he came to see us. Remember Allison told us so. What did he come to say?

Shouldn’t we hear what he came to say?

Doesn’t matter what he came to say. He said all that he needed to say the night before. He probably thought he could make us forget what we want and woo us with his worthless promises that he never intends to fulfill. Some days turn into nevers very quickly with that boy!

Allison moved into the empty space beside her in the mirror. She was in a walking boot and on crutches but she had to come swim in the adrenaline before the show began.

“Why the long face?” She asked. “You seem so serious.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?” She shifted her crutches in front of her.

“I was just wondering if this is going to be my last night as a Raiderette.”

“Are kidding me? You are one of the best dancers on this squad.”

“I’m not worried about losing my spot in next season’s auditions. I just don’t know if I want to do this anymore?”

Allison looked around the room, all the hustle and bustle of half dressed girls bounced about like the steel ball in a pinball machine. “How could you not want to be a part of this?” Allison loved it and could not imagine doing anything else.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s about Parker isn’t it.”

“It’s not just about him, it’s about the course of my own life. I’m afraid its veering off from here and taking a different route.”

Allison scrunched up her face. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Like I said, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Are you thinking you are too grown up now to be a cheerleader?”

Skylar shook her head. “Oh, no!” She gasped. “Please don’t think that. I love these girls and I love what they do I just don’t know If I’ll ever be able to do it.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to Skylar.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know if I want to.”

“I don’t get you.” Allison said crossly. “Do you know how many girls would commit highway robbery just to sit where you are right now and here you are throwing it all away.”

“Maybe that’s why I need to think about moving on.”

Allison gathered her crutches under her body weight. “Maybe you should then.” She said and limped off eager to find anyone who actually understood the recognized the honor of wearing the uniform of a Raiderette.

Coach Jules appeared in the mirror above her. “I apologize for eavesdropping but I overheard your conversation.”

“I’m sorry coach, I’m just unsure right now I haven’t come to any conclusions.”

“You don’t owe no apology to me or to any one of these girls. All I ever asked from you and everyone else is that you give it your all while you are here. We all reach a point when I life carries us on a different path, some of us reach that crossroad earlier than others and that’s ok. You poured yourself into this squad from the moment you first auditioned. I never thought you were the best dancer, but I did see determination and you are here because of that.”

Skylar’s eyes fell. “I wanted to be a Raiderette more than I wanted to breathe.” She admitted.

“And that is why you succeeded.” Coach Jules told her.

Despite the hustle and bustle of giggling girls binging off the walls hyped on red bulls and Starbucks, Skylar could only hear her coach, as though they were the only ones in the room. “I’m not sure I want that anymore.”

Coach Jules presented her with an understanding smile. “I get it, but tonight you are still a Raiderette and you owe these girls the best show ever. If the team wins tonight you then owe it to them one more time at the Super Bowl. After that you can make your decision.”

Skylar nodded. Coach Jules gave her hand a gentle squeeze and said. “Come on its show time.”

The stadium was only a quarter full as the squad emerged from the tunnel, marching in step with military precision, as they moved along the endzone and then the sideline. The entire squad stretched from the twenty yard line, four deep at each yard marker.

The cheers, cat calls, whistles and respectful applause intermingled with the boom of the announcers voice introducing the squad to the sparse crowd. As one unit they marched towards the center of the field and assumed the starting position. Left arm bent and cocked behind the head, the right arm extended down at an angle from the shoulder, mimicked by an extended right leg. The music poured through the sound system, a slow melodic the initial choreography matched the beat of the music, all the women moving in perfect synchronization with every beat. Then the music paused and the entire routine shifted into high gear. The tempo of the music increased and the movements went along with it. Every girl popped the moves, snapping elbows and knees, hips and leg kicks. No one was out sync everyone moving with the precision that Coach Jules demanded from her girls. Even in the midst of perfection she would find something that would need correction some small part that only she would notice that would be her object of obsession for the next three rehearsals.

Halfway through the performance, a streaker covered in black body paint from head to toe, dashed from the end zone marked as the black hole and came running across the field with Oakland’s finest in pursuit.

Skylar saw the man out of the corner of her eye but even the sight of the naked man’s flopping penis could not break her concentration. The Raiderettes never missed a

beat, a kick or a hip shake, not a single woman lost their smile or their place with the music.

The crowd erupted with gratitude as the police finally tackled the naked man around the fifty yard line.

At least the guy had something to show off. Skylar thought. California had more than its share of attention seekers.

Coach Jules applauded her team as they came to the sidelines. “Very good work, girls. Very good!”

Allison hobbled over to one of the other girls still on her crutches. She was apparently avoiding Skylar on purpose. “Did you see the dong on that guy?” The two women shared a laugh but Coach Jules remained unamused.

She passed a cocked brow look at her wounded squad member that shared the condemnation of the comment with all the disgust she intended.

“Let’s get ready for the team’s introductions.” Coach Jules left the team with her applause fading into the sound of AC/DC’s Hells Bells booming over the loudspeaker.

Parker Parker arrived at the Coliseum two hours prior to kickoff. He walked from the player’s parking lot the locker room with Hank Williams Jr’s. If Heaven Ain’t a Lot Like Dixie blasting through a pair of headphones invented by some rap guy whose name he could not recall. He had his second can of Red Bull in his hand. A third can would be waiting for him in the locker room and would then have fourth after pre-game warm-ups.

He felt ready and eager to for this game to start. He could feel the customary butterflies fluttering about in the pit of his tummy but his hands throbbed with anxious energy. He sat on the stool, closed his eyes and whispered a quick prayer. He never asked God for victories, he figured plenty of other people did that on both sides, he instead asked God to protect him, his teammates, and his opponents from any permanent disfigurement.

After his quick prayer he dressed and went out to the field for pre-game warmups.

The California sun felt good as he came out of the tunnel but the air turned chilly when he saw Grimm waiting for him.

The linebacker knew the quarterback would be the first to emerge from the tunnel so he showed early, hoping to psyche him out.

“We meet again meat? You ready for this beat down today? Huh? You ready for the pain about to bring to your doorstep meat?”

Unphased by the boasts Parker made his way over to Grimm and the two men stood eye to eye, noses inches apart The trainers feared they might have to pull the two men apart and wondered how they would do it.

“You ready for this game, old man? It’s going to be a long, long day.”

Grimm nodded. “Ok, big man.” He said backing up and out of the quarterbacks face. “You can talk the talk but in the end are you big enough to back it up.”

Parker tossed him a ball. Grimm let it him in the chest and fall to the ground. “I would pick that up if I were you, that’s the closest you’re going to come to touching a pass from me today.”

“Guess we’ll soon find out.” Grimm leaned over and lifted the ball from the ground.

“Here.” He said tossing it back to Parker. “I’ll come looking around for it a little later.”

Parker caught the ball with one handle and cradled it like a baby. “I’ll be waiting for you old man.” Turning Parker trotted towards the fifty yard to begin his pre-game warm-up routine.

“Don’t throw your arm out Parker.” Coach Parsons told him after the warmup passed the one hour mark. “Save a little something for the Colts.”

A large sweaty wet patch drenched the back of Parker’s gray shirt. His hair was dripping wet. The wide receivers were already gassed and bent over at the knees by the time Coach Parsons stepped in and stopped it.

“I’ve still have plenty left for these guys Coach.” Parker assured him.

A quick look around at the receivers, tight ends, and running backs left Coach Parsons unconvinced. “You might, but I don’t think your teammates have much more. HIt the showers and get ready for the game. Let’s get our mind right people.”

As Parker turned to leave he ran into Grimm again. This time the linebacker came to him in full gear and he looked twice as large and a hundred times more intimidating but Parker did not back down. Coach Parsons was the first to get in between the two competitors. “Save it for the field gentleman.”

“I’ve always dreamed of hitting a quarterback so hard that his head flew off still in the helmet. I’m going to try and make that dream come true today meat.” Grimm’s eyes were wild with hunger. He looked ready to eat Parker raw with his bare hands.

Coach Parsons managed to get Parker to move toward the tunnel. “Come and get you some old man. I won’t be far.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Coach Parsons asked once inside the tunnel.

“I can’t show him that I’m scared Coach. I’m going to beat this guy today.”

“That’s great Parker but don’t forget the ten other guys he has around him. They are pretty good too.”

Parker knew the head coach was right. He had focused so much mental energy on Grimm because he was the greatest threat. He was the playmaker but if he isolated Grimm’s threat and forgot the other ten guys on the field then the linebacker would still have an effect on the game. For the first time that day, he felt a twinge of fear.

“Just remember. You won’t win this game by yourself. You also have ten other guys that are out there to help out. Take what the defense gives you and eventually they will give you the game.”

Parker felt that tiny sting of fear evaporate as he returned to the locker room. He could feel the intensity of the game hit in the face like a warm blast of air. The locker room held the silence of a graveyard. The jokesters did not laugh or cut up, there was no talking only quiet focused energy.

After he toweled off and downed his fourth red bull of the day, he assembled his offensive team around him. Twenty two men encircled the quarterback. “One play at a time, one down at a time. Don’t try and do too much just do your job. Running backs know your blitz assignments, and tuck the ball away. Hold it high and tight. They are coming for it . Line, you guys are the foundation of our success. We don’t succeed without you. Fire off the line of scrimmage, don’t hold, those penalties will kill the drive. Focus on your technique and this will be a big Sunday afternoon walk in the park. We fight together, we play together, we will win together.”

Parker took a moment to look each of them in the eye. He challenged each man individually to lay it all out there. Have nothing left when this is over, spend it all there will be no refunds. The intensity was like a fire gaining energy and growing hotter.

Then Coach Parsons assembled his troops. He stood in the middle of them surrounded by hulking men the size of cattle. “Today is the day we find out who we are inside. Will we rise to the challenge or will we melt in the heat of battle. When this day is

over you will know one of two things about yourselves. You are either a winner or you are a loser and as I look around this room I don’t see a loser in this group. I believe in this team.

We have bled together, sweated together, puked together, and fought together, all for this moment, all for this one opportunity to prove yourselves worthy. The last time we met this team, they whipped our asses pretty good on their home turf. The team that went to Indianapolis that day is no longer with us. This is a new team, forged from the fires of tribulation. It’s your time your moment. What you do with it is all up to you. They have what you want, so go and take it from them guys. Knock their asses into the dirt and take what you have earned.”

As the team broke from the huddle Coach Parsons took Parker aside. “How you feeling champ? You feeling good?”

“I’m feeling like a winner coach.”

“Excellent. Remember you are just one cog in the wheel. Don’t try to do too much.

Take your time and go through your reads. It’s another football game just the hundreds of times you’ve done this in the past.”

Both men knew this wasn’t really true, but it was good theory. The games in the regular season all meant something but they were all bricks in the road the paved the way to this moment. This was the big one. The one that would decide who would travel to Miami, Florida to represent the American Football Conference in the Super Bowl.

This was not just a another game. Every mistake, a penalty, a turnover, a missed assignment on defense could be the difference between a win or a loss. The game would move at an almost inhuman pace that was impossible to prepare for.

“I want to give you a couple of easy throws to work you into the flow of the game.

Once you start to have a good feel for the tempo of the game, we’ll open it up and let all hell fly at them.”

“It’s going to be a little nippy out there coach don’t forget your jacket.” The smile on Parker’s face seemed to try and assure the head coach... don’t sweat it coach I got this.

Parker felt confident, more importantly it oozed from his pores like pheromones.

When Parker turned and made his way to the field, Coach Parsons took his offensive coordinator by the arm and said, “Color me crazy.” He said with a sly grin. “But think we might actually have little fun out there tonight.”

Parker Two announcers in the booth faced a setup of television that would transmit their faces to television sets across the country. One announcer was a fan of sports with a broadcast journalism degree from Northwestern. The other was a retired NFL quarterback with thirteen seasons and bust of his face in the Hall of Fame.

Announcer 1: Hello and welcome everyone to to beautiful Oakland, California where tonight you will see the Indianapolis Colts come into town to face the Oakland Raiders in an AFC Championship game where the winner goes on to meet the Chicago Bears, winner of last night’s NFC Championship, in the Super Bowl.

To to his partner the former NFL quarterback, he asked the hall of famer to set the stage for the fans at home.

Announcer 2: I am anticipating a great matchup tonight. The last time these two teams met was in September and these Raiders were shellacked by a much more physical Indianapolis Colts team. But that was four months ago and that is an eternity in the NFL. Since that time, the Silver and Black hit their stride and a big reason for that is quarterback

Parker Abbey. A guy who I think doesn’t get enough credit for what he’s been able to do.

He threw two interceptions in that last game, he has thrown exactly two interceptions since then. He stands tall in the pocket behind a stout offensive line and delivers a catchable ball to a group of wide receivers who I think are the best in the NFL. On the other side of the ball you have a team that’s been decimated by injuries, but they still have the Grim Reaper. Taylor Grimke is a big fast physical linebacker with a mean streak a mile long. He makes all the defensive calls from the line of scrimmage. You can expect quite the chess match between these two all day. The last time they met the Grim Reaper lived in the Oakland backfield. The key to this game will be how well the Colt defense can keep Parker and the Raider offense in check. If they can’t this could get very ugly, very quick.

Announcer 1: There you have it folks, these wounded Colts will have to face an Oakland Raiders team that is hitting on all cylinders. We haven’t seen the Raiders in this position for quite some time but their fan base is almost insane when they are losing, now that they are winning they may rock the Coliseum to its foundation. We will be right back with the kick off after these brief messages. **** The television announcers had set the stage with the artistic style of the Realism movement. Not only was the crowd screaming, they were almost stomping their feet on the concrete stands. The combined noise had the same decibel level of a 747 jet engine.

Parker stood with Grim at the fifty yard line as the referee showed them the commemorative coin. Grim called heads in the air but the coin landed on tails.

“We want the ball.” He said to the referee.

“We’ll take that endzone.” Grim said pointing to end away from the notorious Black Hole.

“Shake hands and let’s have a good game.”

Parker reached for Grimm’s hand. “I’m bringing pain and hell is coming with me, meat.”

Parker smiled and snatched on his helmet. “Enough talk, Grimm, time to see if you can back it up.”

“Gonna be a long day, meat!” Grimm said as he and his teammates backed away to their sidelines.

Parker went straight to Coach Parson’s. “I want the ball in my hands and I want to keep the tempo on them.”

Coach Parsons nodded. “You got it.” He radioed the last minute instructions to the offensive coordinator upstairs in the booth.

After the opening kickoff dribbled out of the back of the endzone, Parker assembled his army on the sidelines. He called a pass play, a short wide receiver screen. The Raider plan was to get the ball out of Parker’s hand quickly, get him into a good rhythm then begin to stretch the field. The uptempo pace would keep the pressure on the defense and force them their battered secondary into some mistakes.

The offense trotted onto the field and assembled.at the line of scrimmage. Three wide receivers to Parker’s left one to his right, one back behind him. Parker went under center to accept the snap. He kept his eyes fixed on the defense and pointed out Grimm.

“54 is the mIke! 54 is the mike!”

His center made the calls for the offensive line. In a crouch with his hands positioned between the center’s hands he barked the signals and called for the snap.. A

quick three step drop and Parker snapped his hips, to the left, Colby turned his number to make a target and Parker drilled a pass right into his hands.

Colby snapped the pass out the air, broke a tackle and let a wall of blockers frame in front of him. Grimm came all the way across the field to make the tackle but it was only after an eleven yard gain.

Parker brought the team to the line of scrimmage without a huddle he called the play using hand signals and went back under center to receive the snap. With the ball in hand he turned and handed it off to his tailback who found a crease and squirted between his blockers. Grimm was again on his horse and caught up to the back, bringing him down from behind after a seven yard gain.

Now it was second and three and Parker again brought his boys to the line of scrimmage without a huddle. Using hand signals he made his call and went under center for the snap. With the ball in his hands he turned and faked a handoff to the running back.

This sucked Grimm into the line, while Parker shifted to his left and found Colby again on an out route. The delivered a high pass but Colby elevated caught it at its highest point. He tip toed along the sideline and jumped out of bounds just as the defender pushed him from behind. It was a completed pass and a gain of twelve yards and a first down.

Parker found Grimm and see the big man beginning to breathe a little heavy. Still using the same offensive set he began the game with he assembled the troops at the line and called the play. This time he stood in a pistol formation, three yards back from center and a running back behind him. He barked for the snap and floated at him. For the slightest moment he lost sight of the defense to take the snap. When he turned to make the throw to his right he did not see Grimm on the blitz he threw the ball and it deflected off the left paw of the outstretched arms of the linebacker.

The ball fell harmlessly to the grass but Grimm had come with such force and momentum that he struck Parker right in the helmet with his forearm. The hit reminded Parker of the time he collided with an oak tree limb while riding his bike. The blow sent him reeling and stumbling backward and he landed on his rump, cartwheeling toe overhead, with his head spinning. Then he saw something that made the flash of pain subside. A yellow flag, tossed from the pocket of the referee, that landed right beside him.

Roughing the passer, fifteen yard penalty and an automatic first down . Hell yeah.

Parker thought as he scrambled to his feet.

“You good Parker.” His center asked, having come over to help his quarterback to his feet.

“All good.” Parker answered and immediately trotted to catch up to the line of scrimmage. They were already in Indianapolis territory at the thirty five yard line.

Parker went into the shotgun, and barked out the signals. He made sure to look for Grimm before called for the snap. He faked the snap this time and saw Grimm begin to sneak up into the line. He was coming on a run blitz. Parker faked an audible bring Colby in motion from his left over to his right. Grimm adjusted the defense to the match the audible and Parker called for the snap. Grimm still blitzed but Colby sealed him off on the edge.

Parker dropped the snap into his running backs arms who took off around the right edge, and was tripped up by one of the defensive backs after a gain of five yards.

The coaching staff pulled out one of the wideouts and brought in a six foot six tight end in his place. Parker received the play call through the speaker system in his helmet and pulled his team to the line of scrimmage. He was under center again. Pointing out

Grimm as he crouched down to call for the snap.

With the ball in hand and five to seven step drop, he found Grimm, held him in the center of the field with his eyes then with a quick jerk of his hips, his eyes fixed on his tight end. He was in the middle of the field. A safety behind him and a defensive back in front but there was a ten yard cushion. Parker snapped a pass in his direction, elevating the ball above the leaping defensive back and placed it into the outstretched hands of his tight end who went up and snagged the ball out the air. The safety came up and clipped the tight end around the calves, spinning him into a spiraling somersault. The big man went down hard but he held onto the pass for a first down inside the five yard line.

The crowd was even more deafening now but Parker could not hear them he was in his own world and his focus wrapped around the game like a tight rubber band. He pulled his team to line of scrimmage without substituting any players.

The tight end went off the line this time as Parker called out the signals. He went into the shotgun, called for a quick snap and drilled a pass into the awaiting hands of his tight end. The two wide receivers in front of him drilled a linebacker and a defensive back, slanting their angle of attack towards the center of the field. The tight end had only a five feet eight inch defensive back standing between him and the end zone. The one hundred and fifty pound difference posed a difficult problem for the smaller defender who went low.

The tight end anticipated the dive at his ankles and hurtled the defender at the three. As he neared the end zone he saw Grimm pushing towards him he dove across the line just as Grimm hit him and knocked the ball free. A Colt pounced on it in the end zone and came up with the trophy in his extended hand but the line judge had already signaled touchdown.

The crowd went into a frenzy as the number on the scoreboard flashed from zero to six. The Colt head coach thought about challenging the call but after watching the replay on the big screen in the endzone he kept the red challenge flag in his pocket.

Parker unsnapped his helmet and went to the sidelines. Coach Parsons reached out and smacked him on the backend. “Good job! Nice drive!”

Collapsing on the bench, Parker went for the phone that connected him with the offensive coaching staff in the booth above him. “Parker, the safety bit on that play action pass we ran. If we can get inside the fifty on this next drive we are going to go for a home run off the fake.”

“Grimm’s trying to do too much. He’s not trusting his team right now. Let’s use that.”

“Ok, I have an idea.” The offensive coordinator said. “I’ll try and find the right time to call it.”

Parker hung up the phone and drank down a squirt of gatorade when the bottle came his way. The Raiders kicked off and his defense took the field. Parker studied overhead photographs of the defensive alignments for each of the offensive schemes. This meant nothing to him so he put it down and squeezed out another squirt of gatorade into his open mouth.

He let his eyes wander up to the large video monitor above the end zone seats as they replayed the tight end’s scoring leap. What a play big man. Parker thought. Way to make a play for your team.

One more squirt of gatorade and he stood to warm up his arm. It was third and fifteen and it looked like his defense would be giving the ball back.

The Colt’s punted and after a fair catch the Raider’s have fairly good starting position around their own forty yard line. He went to Coach Parsons before trotting out with the rest of the offensive unit.

“Continue to rely on your teammates, get the ball in their hands and let them make the plays. You continue to direct the ship.” After a stiff swat on the backside he sent his field captain back into battle. “Go get us another one.”

Parker buttoned up his helmet as he went to the center and began to call plays. He found Grimm but the big linebacker did not have the same steam he had when the game first kicked off. Old man is feeling the grind of the season a little more these days. He’s already tiring. Parker knew better. The old pro could play a little game of cat and mouse from time to time. He could play injured or tired, draw you into a false sense of security and then pop a gap and knock the quarterback on his ass.

Keep up the pressure. Parker told himself and pointed out Grimm to the offensive line.

He went under center and took the snap. He rolled back gave the ball to the running back and before he could turn back around he heard a collision that forced a groan from the crowd.

The running back took the ball and ran right into a charging Grimm he blew up the play at the line of scrimmage. He hit with such force that the back’s helmet came flying off.

As he stood to make sure everything was still attached, Grimm used the hit to juice up his fellow defenders.

“We’re putting the ball back in your hands.” The offensive coordinator said to Parker through the headset in his helmet.

Parker relayed the play in the first Raider huddle of the game, followed his troops to the line and found Grimm with his usual energy. He bouncing back and forth along the line.

Moving from the A gap to the B gap then back again. Parker pointed him out to the center who adjust the line protections accordingly. Parker called for the snap, but just as he did Grimm switched again. As the ball came to him in the shotgun he knew Grimm would be unblocked. He captured the snap, and pivoted towards the charging linebacker, grunting like a bull, Parker spun away felt Grimm tug on the back of his jersey. Parker felt his momentum shift as his upper half bent back while his lower half continued to move forward.

Summoning all the strength he could muster, he found just enough to hit Colby between the numbers on a pass that went for only four yards, but considering his predicament at the moment he released the ball, that was quite a miracle.

“Getting a little slower in your old age Grimm?” Parker said extending his hand to help his nemesis back to his feet.

“I’ll get you, don’t worry. I don’t let up.” Grimm replied but this time he emphasized the taunt with a helmet slap across Parker’s Raider emblem. The first sign of respect from the linebacker and Parker had earned it.

Third and six, Parker pushed his team to the new line of scrimmage and called the play. From the shotgun without back protection, Grimm audibled to an all out blitz. Parker saw it audibled to Colby for a quick wide receiver screen, who nodded his acceptance of the change and came in motion. He would move in behind the portion of the line where three additional Colts surged toward the line of attack.

Parker from the shotgun called for the snap and had to find the ball with his hands rather than his eyes. He liked to pass the ball with his hands around the laces but eh defensive surge from the Colts did not give him the necessary time. He floated the pass over the defenders hands and Colby elevated pulled the lofted pass down with one hand and turned up field. He made one tackler miss, then darted upfield. Grimm came for him Colby was too fast, and the old linebacker dove for the ankles. This tripped Colby up

enough to slow him down so that other tacklers could get into position and make the play.

Colby finally went down after a fifteen yard pickup and another Raider first down.

Parker never saw the culmination of the play as three defenders met each other in his facemask, driving him into the turf. The ref could have called another personal foul but he kept the flag in his pocket this time, deciding that the hit was not malicious enough to warrant the penalty.

Parker who had three men drive him into the ground, disagreed but he put his uniform back in order, adjusted his helmet and followed his team to the new line of scrimmage. They were now in Colt’s territory and he heard the call spill out of his headset, The call was for Colby to take a post route deep over the middle of the field. If the safety bit on the fake handoff he would have single coverage and he would be the target. If the defender went back into coverage another receiver would cross over the middle right behind the umpire and he would be the second choice. If defenders covered up both routes then Parker would run like hell.

From underneath center, he had a tight end to his left, a back behind him and two receivers to his left and a third to his right.

He crouched under the center and called for the snap. He turned and extended the ball to the running back, who ran up as though he was taking the snap. Grimm pierced the A gap between the center and the right guard and went at Parker untouched. The running back dove at the thighs and sent the linebacker carting over like a pinwheel.

Parker kept his eyes down field. Colby had one defender on his hip but was behind the safety. There was a vast amount of open turf to the right of Colby’s route. Parker turned his hips and angled his shoulders and threw to the vacated area. The ball arced high above the field spinning like a rifled shot.

Colby turned on the jets when he saw the pass leave Parker’s hand and the former college track star left the defender behind, caught up with the pass, caught it on its descent and pranced like a peacock into the endzone.

The numbers on the scoreboard changed again. Thirteen for the Raiders and a big goose egg for the visiting Colts.

Parker gave a single fist pump but he saw Grimm hobble off the field to his right. His teammates helping him to the sidelines. A sprained ankle was the most likely culprit, but Parker did not have to worry, he knew Grimm would be back. **** Facing a fourteen point deficit in the first quarter, not even an act of God could keep Grimm off the field and as Parker suspected the linebacker returned to the field with his comrades, his ankle heavily wrapped with white tape. Parker assembled his own troops at the line of attack, facing seventy yards for a third score.

Grimm moved to the center of the field. He stayed back five yards off the line of scrimmage. An adjustment he likely suggested to the defensive coordinator. From here he could charge any gap on a hand off and stay in the center of a zone coverage if Parker decided to pass. Parker knew he had finally scared the bejesus out them and they had finally decided that blitzing him would not beat him. He wouldn’t be able to make omelettes from the pocket but he felt confident enough in his offensive line to know he would have the time required to go through his progressions.

Two wide receivers to his right and two to his left as Parker came to the line of scrimmage. He took the snap from under center and dropped back. Grimm remained in

the center of the field as he expected. Colby dashed in behind his coverage area so Parker had to go to his second option.

That’s when he saw his other wide receiver streaking down the right sidelines with no one around. The safety was still in the middle of the field but saw the open man. He got on his horses and started over but Parker had more than enough time.

Angling his hips and shoulders he turned and delivered a strike fifty yards down field.

The receiver caught the pass around the twenty yard line and went another ten before the safety finally made it over to knock him out of bounds.

First and goal from the nine yard line as Parker hurried his guys to the line of scrimmage. He delivered the play in the huddle and checked the play clock as he moved his team to the line. He still had ten seconds remaining. Under center he barked out the signals and called for the snap.

He dropped back turned to his right, no one open in the back of the endzone. He shifted his eyes to the center of the field and saw Grimm knock the tight end off his route.

Back to the left, Parker found Colby and the back shoulder throw opened up but the timing was all off. He cocked his arm to throw but decided to pull it back down. He saw open turf to his left so he got his giddyup on and made a dash for it.

Grimm seeing Parker make a dash for the end zone took the fastest angle to the point of attack. Parker dove from about the three, just as Grimm leaned in and put a shoulder to the side of Parker’s helmet.

Still in midair, Parker felt a snap somewhere down the middle of his spine, a spark of pain ignited all over his body for an instant and then in an instant more there was no pain at all. His breathe leapt from his lungs and he wasn’t breathing when he hit the turf and everything went dark.

Skylar It happened right in front of her. She saw Parker dive for the end zone, she saw the big linebacker ram right into him just as the line judge threw up his hands to signal the touchdown.

The fans lit up the arena with a blast of noise that shook the entire stadium and set off car alarms in the parking lot. Skylar turned and thrusting her hands in the air, she celebrated with the crowd. This was the loudest she had ever heard the coliseum.

In the middle of all this celebration there came from the sixty thousand fans in attendance a sudden and tandem deep groan, like air released all at once from a gigantic hot air balloon.

“Oh no!” She heard one woman say from the stands.

“He’s not getting up!” She heard another comment.

One man near her said. “This looks really bad.”

Her smile vanished as Skylar shifted her eyes back to the field. Parker remained in the end zone lying on his back the ball still in his right hand. The big linebacker with the name she could not remember stayed beside him, summoning the training staff with voracious wavings of his hand.

The doctors rushe from the sideline to his side and began to administer chest compressions to try and pump air back into his lungs. Skylar legs grew numb and her strength fled out from her like rats fleeing a flooded cellar. Her knees rocked and one of the girls had to catch her before she fainted on the field.

When Coach Jules saw how serious the injury appeared she began to make her way towards Skylar’s side of the field. When she reached the end zone, she found a hysterical young woman using two women, one under each arm as a crutch, wrestling with all their strength to keep Skylar on her feet. Her body trembling, her breathing almost asthmatic.

When Coach Jules arrived she ordered them to lower her to the grass. “Girl, you need to get a grip on yourself!” Jules told her. “The doctors are going to take care of him.

You got to let them do their job and you need to remember that you have one to do.”

She almost had her under control until the ambulance rolled out onto the field.

“Oh God! Please God, no!” Skylar screamed and bit into Coach Jules’ arm. Not hard but enough to send a shard of pain into the coach’s shoulder.

Skylar fought loose from the Jules’ grasp and propelled herself towards the field. She flung down her silver metallic pompoms falling with a rustle as they hit the turf. She fell to her knees at Parker’s side before they could get him to the gurney, they were now wheeling out of the back of the ambulance.

“I’m here, baby I’m here!” She cried, holding his hand.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Asked one of the trainers shocked by the hysterical girl’s sudden appearance.. “Get her out of here!”

At that moment Coach Jules and two of the girls reached her and pulled her away from the medical team encircling Parker. Skylar relinquished his hand, but not without putting up a fight in the process.

The three women had quite a struggle on their hands and would have lost the fight if it had not been for Colby. He saw her from the sidelines, he saw her collapse in hysterics and just waited for the impending dash to Parker’s side which seemed inevitable.

“Skylar! Skylar! Skylar stop!” His arms encircled her waist as she continued to fight to get back to Parker. The familiar voice at first did not register inside her crazed mind but when it finally broke through, her strength left her and she collapsed into his arms. He carried her from the field to the cheers of thousands as he whisked her away to the tunnel.

Once inside he surrendered her to Jules. The coach fumed but she bit down on her anger, deciding it would be best to wait until Skylar was in a more stable frame of mind before having that discussion. As a general rule she did not allow her girls to fraternize with the players for this very reason. If they wanted to date a member of the team they had to leave the Raiderettes, but due to the preexisting relationship she had with Parker, Coach Jules made an exception against her better judgement. That decision now stood at the top of a long lifetime list of questionable choices..

Jules got her to the locker room and gave her some water. “You have got to get a grip.”

Skylar’s eyes blackened by running mascara and resembling those belonging to a raccoon, lifted to meet her Coach’s stern glare. “I have to get to him.”

“We don’t know where they are taking him yet, but I will find out.”

The owner of the Raiders, burst into the locker room, his face reddened with anger bred from embarrassment. “What the hell was that all about?” He shouted looking past the coach to the teary eyed woman leaning against the makeup counter.

The little black woman wheeled and turned a pair of mother bear eyes on the rich white billionaire. Snagging him by the arm she led him into the office. “You do not belong in here, sir.” She told the owner after closing the office door. “You sure as hell don’t barge up in here unannounced. That girl is in love with your team’s quarterback and she just saw him severely injured right in front of her. She is hysterical and frankly, sir, if I were in her shoes I would be do. So I would appreciate it if you would let me handle my girls the way I see fit

and I assure you, I will address this issue in time. So you can drag your old white ass back out where you came from. You do your job and I will do mine.”

“Now see here!” He began to protest. He wanted to stand out of the chair but she pounced on him like a spider.

“What do you want to say?” Her eyes widened with anger her pupils drilling deep dark pools in the center of white.

The rich old man had nothing to say. He rose from his chair, adjusted his tailored suit and backed out of the office and then out of the locker room.

Skylar was sitting upright in a chair when Jules emerged from the office building and locker room door swung back shut. “I’m sorry.” Skylar apologized. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Jules came forward and put her hands on both sides of Skylar’s face tilting her eyes up to meet hers. The small black woman smiled a motherly smile. “You were a woman who felt the need to protect the man she loves.”

“I thought all of that was over.”

Jules swung her backside into a chair and put an arm around Skylar’s shoulder.

“Girl, you can’t turn it off and on like a switch. You still love him and that’s ok.”

“I made a fool out of you and myself. I embarrassed the Raiderettes, what was I thinking?”

“You weren’t thinking.” Jules shook her head but there was no criticism found in her words only comfort. “As for those other things, we’ll address those in time. But first, we need to get you over to that hospital.”

“You’re taking me?”

“Skylar.” Jules sighed. “What we do here is important. It is important to me and to all the girls who are members of the team, and those who aspire to be members. But in all things, life and the people we come first.”

Soon Allison hobbled with tears falling from her frightened eyes. “They just wheeled him out. I talked to Colby and he said he’s breathing but so far he’s unresponsive.”

Skylar turned from Allison to Coach Jules back to Allison. “What does that mean? I don’t understand… I don’t…” Skylar found herself drifting back into hysteria again and was unable to complete the thought.

“It means he’s alive but injured.” Jules assured her. Skylar turned asthmatic again and began to hyperventilate. “Calm down. Calm down. I’m going to find out where they took him and then come back for you.”

“Don’t leave her.” Coach Jules told Allison as she stepped out of the locker room.

Allison promised she wouldn’t and walked her crutches over to the chair and sat down beside her roommate. “I’m so sorry Skylar. I’m so so sorry.”

“What am I going to do if he doesn’t make it? I don’t know if I can live without him.”

Skylar told her friend unconscious of the fact that just one hour ago, she was ready to move across country and relegate him to the pile of forgotten lost boyfriends. Now, suddenly faced with the very real fear that she might actually lose him for real, she wasn’t so sure of her willingness to move on.

Allison made no effort to point this out. She recognized the difference between making bold statements and actually going through with them. It was always easy to say, the difficulty was always in the doing. “Hush now, don’t think like that.” Allison combed her fingers through Skylar’s hair. “Everything is going to be all right. You’ll see, everything is going to be just fine.”

As she said these words she tried to remain hopeful but at that moment she was unsure if she was trying to comfort a wounded friend, or telling an outright lie. Everything did not look like it would be all right when that ambulance peeled out of the tunnel. The doctors had strapped Parker Coach Jules returned to the locker room after only a few minutes of absence. “They took him to Alameda Medical. Skylar get your things, I’m driving.” **** Like pups on a teet, the news media was quick to attach themselves to the story, suck everything out of it, and leave it dry and used up. By the time Jules pulled her black Mercedes into the parking lot, news trucks lined the street and reporters struggled to sneak by security for an inside scoop on the story.

Jules parked her car in the garage and escorted Skylar through the Emergency room entrance. Once inside she sweet talked an orderly into taking them back to where doctors and nurses tended to the wounded quarterback.

There were so many people crammed into the small room, Skylar could not get near him. One of the nurses came over to the two women and asked. “I’m sorry, but are you family?”

“I’m his girlfriend.” Skylar answered.

The nurse looked the girl up and down. “What are you some kind of cheerleader?”

Jules got in between the nurse and Skylar and the mother bear attitude came growling out again. “She’s a Raiderette, if you must know.” Jules shoved her chest out proudly, realizing that the questioning eyes came from a deep rooted sense of insecurity about her own body.

“Hm hm.” The nurse said then turned back to the nurses’ station. She wasn’t about to tangle with the sassy little woman and lose her job in the process.

Jules wasn’t about to let her get off the easily. “Let me tell you something…” She started after the nurse with her right index finger up in the air. She looked like a crazed woman ready to scratch out her eyebrows. As she came around the nursing station corner, a doctor came from her right, encircled his arms around her thin waist and pressed his lips into her hair.

“You always smell so good.” The doctor said as he breathed in her scent.

Coach Jules turned to look into the face of her husband of twenty years, Dr. Vernon Jules, Neurologist and Chief Medical Officer of the hospital. “Vern you need to remind this woman who she is dealing with. I am not about to take anymore of her crap.”

“What’s going on?” Dr. Jules asked his eyes darting from his wife to the nurse and back to his wife again.

“I’ve about had it with the woman doctor.”

“This woman happens to be my wife.”

With her hand on her hips the defiant nurse replied. “I don’t care if she is the wife of the pope. Her attitude and her trashy little harlots,” she gave a gesture towards Skylar.

“Need to be checked outside the door of my Emergency Room.”

Coach Jules erupted. “Trash! Trash? I’ll show you trash sister.” Only her husband’s embrace kept the smaller woman from pouncing on the much larger one. The fight probably would not have ended well because the head nurse outweighed the smaller woman by a hundred pounds. The nurse was also a former Army nurse and that would have worked in favor as well.

After he finally had his wife calmed down, Vernon Jules stepped to the nursing station counter without his wife and tried to settle the argument reasonably and rationally.

He could throw his weight around if he wanted to and sometimes he did when conditions warranted but he preferred a more subtle approach especially with the nurses he wanted to keep employed at the hospital. This nurse was one of the good ones and he wasn’t about to let her go.

“Ada, honey.” He began his tone as sweet and smooth as honey. “Remember in last month’s department heads meeting when you charged in with your hair all on fire screaming about the budget cuts we had planned. We were about to chop off a quarter of our nursing staff but you put up such a good fight we decided to look for cuts elsewhere.

You stood up for your staff because you are protective, just like a good mama bear should be. My wife over there, she’s the same way about her girls. She has a big chip on her shoulder anytime someone looks down on them, she goes at them with all guns blazing.

Just like a good mama bear should. You see what I’m saying?”

“I think so.” The nurse surrendered. “I didn’t look at it that way.”

“That girl right there, happens to be the girlfriend of the football player you have in that room right there. Now, you may not like how she’s dressed, you may not have any respect for what she does but I can assure you, that my wife’s girls are a cut above the rest.

Some of them are nurses right here in this hospital. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?

That one right there is about to earn her law degree from Berkeley. Now you may think she’s all priss and sass but I can assure you those girls all have more up here than you give them credit for.” He tapped the side of his temple.”

Turning to one of the nurses’ aides she ordered, “Get that girl a blanket out of the warmer. She’s probably freezing standing there all half naked.”

Dr Vernon Jules laughed and turned back to his wife. He stepped over and kissed her on the forehead. “See, I took care of it.”

Coach Jules jabbed a glance at the head nurse around her husband’s shoulders. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me Vernon.” She said her anger directed at him now.

Dr. Jules wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “You can be mad at me just don’t come up here ready to cut up one of my best nurses. You know how hard these women are to find?” He nuzzled his cheek to hers. “I know how important it is to hold on to a good woman.” He squeezed her a little tighter and felt her temper thaw.

“Get back to your game, I’ll take care of her from here,” The nurse aide arrived with the warm blanket and Dr. Jules placed it around Skylar’s blanket. Before the warm fabric touched her chilled flesh, Skylar had not moved. Her feet frozen in the white knee high boots, her eyes fixed on the activity surrounding the man she loved. In all that time he had not moved, not a finger, a hand, a toe or a foot. The staff had removed all the gear from the waist up but he still had on the silver football pants and his cleats still had clumps of the Coliseum sod wedged between the prongs.

“Honey, I’m going back to the stadium but this is my husband Vernon. He will be Parker’s doctor, he’ll take good care of both of you.” With an assuring hand, she gave Skylar a soft nudge and left the Emergency Room.

Dr. Jules pulled her close to him. He stood a full foot taller than her and she seemed to shrink in size as she melted against his side. “Would you like to see him?”

Skylar nodded and allowed him to lead him to the bed. WHen the doctor entered the room the caregivers swarming about him like bees in a hive parted and allowed her to see him for the first time.

He left her alone at the head of the bed while he removed the others from the room, sealing her in there with him, alone together for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. He had a breathing tube inserted into his mouth that ran a long bluish colored tube

to a machine that would push an accordion device up and down. A sensor on the end of his index finger gave his pulse rate and oxygen saturation. With her fingers she brushed a twist of hair from his forehead bent low and kissed him, her lips lingering for a moment on his warm and pallid flesh.

Drawing up a chair beside him, she shrank into it and lying her head on the side of his mattress, the stress of the last hour sapping the last of her energy and her eyes closed and sleep brought dreams of tattered white dresses, black roses and shattered mirrors along a neverending hallway that seemed to lead no place at all. Doors numbering in the thousands all seemed locked and she could only run in one of two directions. She could retreat into the shadow behind her or continue towards the promise of light ahead.

Pursuing the light her legs felt heavy as though melting into the floor. No matter the distance she trudged or how fast she ran the light seemed no closer than when she started.

Then the light suddenly enveloped her all at once, she blinked twice and she found herself back in the room, her head lying beside Parker on the bed.

Ada, the head nurse in the ER had opened the door and was checking his vitals and going through her hourly checks. The large black woman turned sympathetic eyes on what she considered a mere child in comparison to her fifth decade on this planet. “Honey, you look plum awful.”

Skylar realized at the time that it was probably an understatement. She did not even want to come ten feet near a mirror out of fear the reflection might cause a grand mal seizure. Yawning and stretching she asked if there was a bathroom where she could clean the halloween style goop from her face.

“Outside in the lobby.” Ada said at first.

Skylar wasn’t about to go that way. She didn’t want to frighten young children or worse have someone in the media recognize her and capture photos of her in her current state.

That would be most dreadful.

“But, I guess you can use the nurses’ washroom. It’s right across the hall through that set of double doors.”

Skylar thanked her and followed the simple directions. She found the single toilet marked for women and went inside, locking the door behind her. After scrubbing the makeup from her face and drying she returned to the room to find Ada just finishing up.

“Looks like he is stable enough to transport upstairs. Come with me, I will have one of the orderlies escort you. He’ll be in ICU bed 4.”

She introduced him to very tall and nice looking black man, a high school basketball player who had just earned a scholarship to the Washington State University. As they walked he told her all about his admiration and love for Parker and how much his little brother idolized. “I normally tell my brother all about the football players we see in here from time to time. I don’t think I will be telling him about this though. It will break his heart.”

Skylar agreed it probably would. She asked him if he knew the final score of the game. “Twenty one to fourteen. The Raiders never scored again. The Colts almost scored but we intercepted the pass in the back of the end zone to end the game. The offense never looked the same with Parker out of the game. Without him we don’t have much of a chance at winning the Super Bowl.”

Skylar wondered if Coach Jules would suspend her from the squad for running on the field the way she did.

Probably should and you would deserve it too!. She told her herself.

So what if she does? We have to be here for Parker, nothing else matters.

They reached the elevators and he punched the button for the fourth floor. The both entered and in less than fifteen seconds the pair of doors slid open and they were in a circular wing with a central nursing station and a series of patient rooms faced with glass and in plain view of the nurses seated behind the desk.

“Right this way Miss Skylar.” The young orderly said and directed her to the fourth room from her left. “They will bring him up here as soon as the doctor writes the order.

There is a shower in here.” He said opening a small door to a room no larger than her bedroom closet. You will find soap and shampoo and a rag. Towels are on the back of the door. If you need anything you just press this button here and it will ring at the nurses’ station.” He explained the remote attached to the bed, showing her the red button with the white outline of a nurses’ profile. “If you want to spend the night.” He gestured toward a large green chair in the right corner of the room. “It folds out into a bed. I will bring in some sheets and a pillow. Nurses can get you a warm blanket from the heater if you want.”

“Thank you.” She said clasping her hands around his. They looked as large as meat hooks compared to hers.

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, you have been very sweet.”

Skylar thought she saw a hint of color surface around his dark cheeks. He went off and grabbed a set of white sheets from the laundry closet and came back with them in hand, and a pillow tucked under his arm.

“I have to get back downstairs.” He told her goodnight wished her well and promised to say a prayer for her.

“Thank you.” She said, knowing that a million prayers may never make Parker whole but even one gave her a better chance than anything else on earth.

Now alone in the ICU room waiting for Parker’s arrival she sat in the large green chair, pulled off her white dancing shoes and drew her stocking feet into chest.

Gross! Skylar thought as she looked down as the glossy tiled floor. It looked clean, so clean that it was almost a mirror, but she knew something lay unseen on the floor.

“Cooties.” She sighed as she thought of the hundred, perhaps thousands of previous inhabitants of this room before her. Billions of the little bugger lurking unseen in the microscopic recesses of the tiles, hungry and ready to attach themselves to her flesh.

The thought sent a shiver up her spine.

Having left her cellphone in her duffel bag when she arrived at the hospital in Coach Jules’ Mercedes. She grabbed the phone, didn’t dare put it near her mouth and dialed nine for an outside line.

She stared at the number pad for a moment. In this time of smartphones and contact list dialing, memorization of telephone numbers had become a lost art. She managed somehow to retrieve the required digits from her gray matter and listened for the ring.

There was the first, then the second. Allison picked up halfway through the third.

“Hello?” She answered not recognizing the number.

“Allie, it’s Sky.” Their previous tiff forgotten in the ensuing calamity and confusion, “Oh my gosh, Skylar, is Parker ok? I’ve been glued to Sportscenter since I got home but they are telling me anything.”

Skylar kept her voice calm and even avoiding her predisposition for breaking down into a crying fit every time she allowed herself a momentary glimpse of the memory swirling around in her brain. The point of impact, when Parker fell lifeless to the turf. At the time of impact she had not known he was hurt only overjoyed that he scored, but on reflection,

knowing the outcome she could almost see the buckling of his spine even beneath the back padding of his number sixteen jersey. “He’s stable.” She said. “I haven’t seen the doctors yet but they are ready to transfer him to a bed in ICU. Listen I need a favor.”

“Anything Sky, what is it?” She ran down a list of items that she would need. T-shirt, a clean pair of jeans, her warm flannel pajama bottoms, a clean pair of panties, her toothbrush and please God don’t forget my hairbrush. She was a nuclear bomb ready to explode in t-minus forty five minutes and counting and if she didn’t get her hands on a hairbrush in that length of time she was certain to explode and take out half of downtown Oakland.

She could hear Allison in her closet, the clinking of hangers as she removed items from the rail. “Coach Jules gave me your duffel bag. I’m bringing your cellphone and charger along to.”

“Oh thank God.” She said a soft prayer of thanks to heaven for the knowledge that her phone would become one with her again. “What would I ever do without you?”

She returned the phone to the cradle and sat and waited. She thought about flipping on the television, there was nothing on that she wanted to see and doubted if she had the mental capacity to maintain focus on anything, but she switched it on anyway just to drove away the drone of silence.

Silent as funeral parlor.

Stop that. You’re going to freak us out.

And Cooties!

She pulled her legs in tighter and said. “Allison please hurry.” **** She was never happier to see her friend than the moment she arrived at the hospital door carrying her duffel bag. Parker remained downstairs in the ER for what reason, Skylar did not know but she remembered from past experiences that hospitals moved at the same pace as government worker.

Forgetting about the cooties amidst her joy of finally having a companion she jumped from the chair and padded over to her friend. The two girls embraced and a tempest of emotion raged again, billowing the corners of her consciousness. Her life seemed to be coming apart and collapsing in on itself like a building wired for demolition.

She mourned for Parker but she also mourned for herself. In the last few hours she had seemingly lost control of the direction of her life. Everytime she thought she’d finally put herself in a position to let go of Parker, it seemed that fate would intervene and just suck her right back in again. This was a familiar place but it was far from comfortable. It was a cold place, littered with the glittering shards of her shattered hopes and dreams. This was the place it seemed she needed to be but not where she wanted to be.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Allison said rubbing the palm of her hand up and down on the exposed part of Skylar’s lower back.

Even on crutches, Allison managed to become a crutch of her own as she helped Skylar into the shower. Helped her out of her uniform and closed the door on her way out.

As the warm rush of water hit her exposed skin, even among all the billions of cooties flitting about unseen, Skylar finally felt a sense of relief.

When she emerged from the shower, dressed and her hair stringy and wet, the nurses were just setting Parker in the room. Allison stood in the doorway out of the way,

her bad ankle held at an angle off the floor, her back slumped over the crutches. She yawned exhausted from a long hard day.

Skylar slid over to her friend. She smelled clean and fresh but not her usual scent at all. “How’s the wheel?”

“I want to rip it off and start chewing on it.” Allison said.

“That bad huh?”

Allison nodded. “That bad. Don’t worry about me though, I have some pills back at the room that I plan on chewing on like candy once I get back.” Allison lifted her cheeks into a glowing smile. “They will send me off to happy land for a little while, where pink unicorns run free tiny little yellow elmos want to hug me and be my friend.”

Skylar had to laugh. She didn’t want to laugh but had to. Her forehead landing on her friend’s upper arm. “Ok, you silly.” She said adding a playful slap. “You succeeded in cheering me up so go home and get some rest. I’ll call you first thing in the morning.”

Allison left her and soon too did the nurses and aides. Then Dr. Vernon Jules came in and Skylar did not like the look on his face.

He came in and closed the door. “Skylar, my name is Dr. Vernon Jules.”

She nodded, remembering him from the ER. “You are my Coach’s husband.”

“That’s a title I am proud to have.” A smile lit up his otherwise somber expression. “I am also chief medical officer for this hospital and the Neurologist in charge of Parker’s care.”

“How bad is it?”

“Well it’s not good.” He admitted and then explained. “Parker apparently had a small benign tumor on his neck that weakened the vertebrae.” He saw her face grow pale and knew he needed to reassure her that this was not the problem. “Again, the tumor was benign so we have no cause to worry about the spread of cancer. Our most pressing concern is the spinal cord. It’s severed near the neck. A few inches higher and he might not have survived. Right now he is paralyzed from the neck down. He can’t breathe on his own and when we bring him out of the chemically induced coma we have him under right now he will experience pain like he never thought existed.”

Her hands found her face and covered it. “Paralyzed!”

“There is a new treatment that I would like to try on him. If you will give me permission.”

“Permission? I don’t understand. I’m not his next of kin.”

“His Advance Directive lists you as the sole administrator of his health should he become incapacitated. I’m assuming he has not discussed this with you?”

Skylar shook her head. He never even mentioned it. Idiot! You big dumb cute idiot!

She screamed at him in her mind. What made you think I was capable of this. Probably never thought it would come to that did you? Well, guess what, it did and now I don’t know what to do. I want my mother.

Tears appeared in her eyes and blurred her vision. She wiped at them with the back of her hand. “What is this new procedure doc?”

“Do you know what nanotechnology is?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s a promising new field in science. They are doing pretty amazing things with diabetes at the University of Michigan and I happened to be a part of a study at Stanford University where we had some promising results on clinical trials where we used atomic sized robots to repair the spinal cord below the cellular level. That’s far too expensive but we’ve learned recently that carbon atoms actually work in a similar way. If the procedure is

successful we may actually be able to repair his spinal cord enough to give him eighty to ninety per cent of his motor function back.”

“Is there a catch?”

“All procedures have risks. He may not make it through the procedure but I don’t perceive any greater risk than normal. Then there is the cost, insurance won’t pay for the procedure because it’s experimental.”

“How much?”

“Two maybe four million.”

Skylar’s mouth fell open. “Four million dollars.” She echoed unable to fathom such an amount. She knew Parker had the money, but still four million dollars. “Will he be able to ever play football again?”

Dr. Vernon Jules gave the girl a queer look as though he expected the question but was surprised by its asking. “In my honest medical opinion, I will be happy to see Parker breathe on his own, if he walks that will be a bonus. If he doesn’t have this procedure, he is not likely to survive.”

What could I do with a million dollars, let alone four millions dollars. Think of the purses, the shoes you could buy with that kind of dough.

Even her inner angel had to laugh at her inner child. You are so bad.

“Let’s do it.” You go girl, way to spend that man’s money. Skylar was unsure what voice that was in her head. She guessed it was probably all of them in unison.

Dr. Jules nodded and said. “I will schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning. We will keep him sedated and comfortable till then. Are you staying with him tonight.”

Skylar gave a glance back at the bead. “I’m not going anywhere until he is.”

“Good. He’s got a long road ahead of him and will need his support system.” He took her hand and said a soft prayer looked at her one last time and left without another word.

Skylar According to Dr. Jules’ testimony, the surgery went as well as expected but it could be weeks before he would know how successful the treatment would be. Skylar now had to sit and wait for her sleeping beauty to wake up. To pass the time she did her studies over the internet, completed her last paper and sent it to her professor through email and completed additional assignments other professors requested from her. She did not attend any classes, she did not go home. She did not exercise she only sat, waited and hope for a miracle that may never come.

As the days added up there were several visitors. The first to come was Colby and Coach Parsons, followed by other teammates who all came in the day following the surgery.

Skylar’s mom and dad flew in from Alabama and stayed with Allison while Skylar remained firmly rooted to the hospital room. Her mother’s presence provided a strong foundation of support. She reminded her daughter to eat. Skylar was losing weight on a body that did not have much weight it could lose.

The last visitor to come was Grim he came in with flowers and a unicorn for Skylar that he purchased in the hotel gift shop. He flew back with the team on Sunday evening.

Talked to his wife, boarded a plane back to Oakland, arriving at the end of the week.

“I’m probably the last man on earth you want to see right now.”

“Not at all.” She explained to him. “It wasn’t your fault.” He broke down and cried, a mountain of a man crying into his hand like a little boy lost in a big store.

“I never wanted this to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t, no one ever does.” She tried to console him but her words felt like bullets pinging off of rock in those old western movies her daddy liked to watch.

“I’m leaving the game.” He told her. “I thought I might have enough in me for one more season but I’m through now.”

“Parker wouldn’t want that. You don’t know how much he respected and admired the way played the game. He called you ‘artistry in motion’.”

Grim framed a smile but there was nothing but grief in it. “He would not have liked what he saw in our last game, had he been there.”

“Why? What happened.”

“Two series after he went out I was carted off the field complaining that I couldn’t run on my ankle anymore. That wasn’t the truth. I was scared to play after Parker went down.

I gave up, quit on my team, something that was so foreign to me that after I looked in the mirror I didn’t even recognize my own face.” He shook his head, his hands coming up to cover his face. “I’m not the same man I once was and I never want to be that man again.”

“Parker had a tumor Grim.” She said, repeating the doctor’s diagnosis. “A benign tumor that went unnoticed during his last physical, but it weakened one of the vertebrae in his neck. It could have happened to anyone, it was only a matter of time.”

She rubbed his shoulders. The big balls of muscle felt like giant snowglobes. Her words seemed to calm him but he was now a shell of the man he once was. He was no longer a predator, no longer the king of his jungle and if he couldn’t play at his very best then there was no need to continue on with the charade.

“Thank you. You helped me feel better, but I still think its best to walk away. Tell Parker, when he wakes up, that I came to see him.”

“I will.” She promised, as she escorted him to the door.

“I’m sorry about all of this. I really am.” He told her before he left her standing there holding the door.

She could have blamed him for all of this. He was the easiest target after all, but being a girl growing up in the South she understood football and the dangers these undertook every time they took the field. No matter how remote the chances of severe injury could be,every one of them understood that the next snap could be their last.

After closing the door she hugged herself as she padded back across the linoleum floor to the green chair in the corner by the window. She felt like a storybook princess locked in a tower against her will, with her prince charming, her only chance of rescue locked inside a sleeping curse so powerful that even true love’s kiss could not break the spell.

Drawing her knees up into her chest she wanted to sit and just watch as all the world seemed to move in a straight towards some predetermined destiny while her fate always brought her back around to the place where it all began. It felt like a twisted version of groundhogs day. The same scenario repeated over and over again, like a horrible song that the radio guys just won’t stop playing.

You can leave anytime you want to. Compelled by the heavy burden of her self pity, her inner angel, mimicking the chime of her mother’s voice, rose from her chair in the dark sanctuary of her mind and stepped forward into the light. Your feet are not chained to the floor and the door is unlocked. No one would blame you, the man in that bed is no longer

your boyfriend and he is not your husband, but this is where you want to be. When he wakes up and he will wake up. you want the first face he sees to be yours. You want him to know that you were here, through it all, by his side the entire time.

Calmed and comforted by this internalized voice of reason, Skylar closed her eyes and sleep came easily. As her eyes closed, and the tempest of troubles raging in her mind calmed to a soft serenade of pulsing of rain, she did not see the eyelid twitch, the head turn slowly right then slowly left. The turn of a finger, followed by the arcing wrist raising and then lowering a hand. like an animatronic robot in an amusement park kid’s ride.

Back to the eyes. There was a flutter, a blink, followed by rapid blinking, then opening to allow a pair of cornflower blue eyes to see… to see.

Nothing Slowly the vision cleared and shapes condensed into focus.

White tiles?

Then…

Pain The pain ripened. Parker felt it first in his throat. It felt like a regiment of fire ants, foraging on the soft tissue of his esophagus as they marched along.

Then the pain moved down his right arm, then his left, then finally to his lower extremities. He thought he knew the pain Joan of Arc of must have felt when the flames licked at her skirts then swallowed her in the heat of and anger of a primal damnation.

He groaned but the sound only made his throat feel worse. He tried to shake off whatever bug it was trying to consume him, but his legs, his feet would not answer the call from his brain.

Tied? Restrained? Where am I? He turned to his left and he saw the sleeping figure in the green chair beside him, curled up in a ball, her face almost unrecognizable to him,haggard as it was, gnarled by worry.

The pain vanished in the fleeting moment he saw the rolled up girl beside him. His heart swelled with joy and he wanted nothing more than to climb from the bed, grab her, pull her to him and never let go.

Skylar? Why was she here? Where was here?

Parker opened his mouth and called to her, but his voice was like a strangled gasp.

“Skylar.”

That hurt like hell. Try again you big wimp.

“Skylar.”

The sound of her name, unexpected and startling sent a signal into her sleeping conscious mind that set off alarm bells.

Someone is calling our name. Impossible. Or is it?

Blinking, her eyes they opened and saw the animated vision of life beyond the hospital window. Then…

“Skylar.” The voice sounded like tires crunching gravel.

She put her head on a swivel and turning found those cornflower eyes peering back at her.

“Parker!” She said and her feet hit the floor.

She came at his head and showered kisses across every square inch of his face.

“Easy! Easy!” He cautioned her, but even though the force of her lips sent torches of pain across his skin, he found that each kiss extinguished each blast as soon as it erupted.

“Where am I?” He asked, with her face inches from his.

“Alameda Medical.”

“I’m hurting so bad, but I can’t move.”

“You got hurt.” She told him sorrowfully.

“How?” He groaned.

“Doctor said you broke your neck, and you’re paralyzed.”

“I can move my hands.” He said and to prove it he ran the fingers of his right hand up and down the length of her back.

She’s not wearing a bra. Yummy! How could he think about sex at time like this?

I’m such a horn dog. He wondered if that part of his anatomy still worked. He hoped so.

He could probably use his injury to gain a little compassion nookie. He forced a smile on his face.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I’m looking at your face, how could I not smile?”

She kissed him. “Good answer.” She said then noticed the raised portion of his anatomy making a tent out of the bed sheets. She gave him a crossed look. “Really?”

“What?” He asked as his smile vanished and his forehead curled down over his brow.

“I see another part of you is working.”

His smile returned. “Phew! That’s a relief.”

She shook her head. “I’ll bring in the nurse and see if we can do something about your pain.” **** When Dr. Jules came on his afternoon rounds, he was pleasantly surprised by Parker’s recovery process thus far. “I’m encouraged.” He told Parker as the former quarterback lay in bed captive to every word that leaked on his tongue. “We’ve come a long way in a very short amount of time.”

“Say it to me straight Doc. Will I be able to play again?”

Dr. Jules cleared his throat. “Right now Parker, I would like for you to just take everything one step at a time. Let’s focus all our energy on getting movement to your lower extremities first.”

“You are evading the question doc.”

There was good reason for that. Dr. Jules had an answer but it wasn’t what Parker wanted to hear and he did not want to discourage the progress by removing the heart’s more intense desire.

“Parker, if we can get you up and rehabbing, I am confident that you will regain the use of your legs. My professional recommendation will be that you just focus on that. I don’t know how secure your spine will be and the complications of this surgery may be farreaching if we have to repeat it in the future.”

“That’s a pretty complicated ‘no’ doc.”

Touching his patient on his shoulder, he said. “I just don’t want to break your spirit, Parker. I want you to see you continue to improve.”

Parker’s teeth clenched and his jaw clamped at the edges. “I will play again doc.

You’ll see.” There was a steely look of intense determination burning in his eyes.

“I hope so Parker.” Dr. Jules resigned, realizing that if Parker wanted to believe he could play again and that led him to push himself in rehabilitating the injury, then what was the use of pulling the rug out from underneath him.

“Very good.” He assured Parker. “My recommendation to the team will be to adopt a wait and see approach to your recovery.

Dr. Jules went on to explain that they would transfer him out of the ICU and move him upstairs. He wanted to continue to monitor for any potential embolisms as they could prove fatal. They would try and keep his pain under control through the use of narcotics, that would keep him pretty sedated and comfortable while the procedure continued to work its way down his spine.

That evening, Skylar received the phone call she both dreaded and anticipated. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw Coach Jules’ number appear on her caller id.

“Vernon hasn’t discussed specifics with but I’m told Parker is awake and alert.”

“He’s back with us.” Why won’t she just get to the point.

Then she did. “Skylar I’m calling to let you know that you will not be traveling with the team to Miami for the Super Bowl. I’m suspending you from the team for the remainder of your term.” That meant a big gouge in her paycheck as she would not make the annual winter trip to the Bahamas for the calendar shoot.

“I understand.” Skylar said, but unable to hide the wounded tone in her voice.

“I love you and I always will.” Coach Jules said. “I probably would have done no different but rules are rules.”

“Yes ma’am.” Skylar said too tired to put up much resistance. She wasn’t sure how she would pay her bills but she would worry about that later.

After hanging up she returned the phone to her purse. “Who was that?” Parker asked, pretending to sleep, his head turned away from her on the pillow.

“Coach Jules.” She said but didn’t want to say more than that.

“What did she say?”

“She was calling to check on you.”

“That’s nice.” He began. “So why do you sound so sad?”

That question was inevitable. She thought. I wear my feelings on my sleeve and he’s always been able to read me like a book.

When she didn’t answer, he turned and looked at her. There was a glazed look in his eye as thick as on a donut. He didn’t know what day it was, but somehow understood that something bothered her. “What’s wrong?”

“Coach Jules just released me from the team.”

Parker blinked. He could not see her but he could hear and more importantly he could feel her. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Anything you need.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me.” She told him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I want to…” His voice trailed off as consciousness fled from him.

Skylar looked at him and for a moment, tears glistened in her eyes and she half wished she could keep him doped up forever. “You are so sweet.” She said, brushing her fingertips across his forehead. “Deep down inside, anyway.”

Parker

With the Super Bowl approaching, Parker’s teammates all came to show share their love and support, each one bringing flowers until the entire room smelled like a funeral parlor. He seemed to draw strength from the revolving door of well wishers and as the weekend grew closer and the pain in his lower extremities subsided, Parker could no longer restrain his desire to try out his wobbling wheels.

He began slowly, flexing his toes, then progressed to rolling his ankles, and finally moved to bending his knees.

“Whoa there big guy.” Skylar admonished him. “Let’s not push it too far. too fast.”

It was the miracle she had prayed for.

“What’s wrong?” He said as he saw her face twist like a screw, and the shower turn on just beneath her eyes.

“I’m just so happy!” She told him. “Do you know what this means?”

Parker shrugged. “I still can’t get out of bed.”

She swatted him on the arm. “You’re impossible!” She cried. “This means you’ll walk again.”

“It’s only the beginning.” Parker promised her with a smile. “I’m going to play again.”

Her hand reached out and touched him on the face. “If you walk out of this hospital with me on your arm, that will make me the happiest woman in the world.”

Parker’s face squared and his gaze fixed on some point of focus that only he could see. “I will play again.”

She touched his hand and then kissed him on the forehead. “I believe you.” She whispered, her lips mingling with his hair. “I will always believe in you.”

She left him for a shower. It took a little longer than usual because she look the time to shave her legs and armpits. She felt halfway decent when she finally came back through the shower closet and into the room, her hair drawn up in a towel wrap.

An empty bed greeted her, rumpled sheets where Parker’s ass should have been.

Panic struck her. “Parker?”

“Over here.” She saw the tips of his fingers reach just above the edge of the bed.

“Parker!” She screamed and crossed to the other side of the room where she found him lying on the floor on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m ok.” He assured her. He crossed his hands over his chest and his legs at his ankles.

“Did you fall?” She asked him sliding to her knees.

“Um…” He said, his cheeks filling with an embarrassed crimson. “Not really, I thought this was a more comfortable place to be.”

“You jackass! You fell, admit it!”

“I didn’t really didn’t fall, I more or less sank.”

“I told you not to push it, didn’t I?” She chided him. “You hardheaded jackass!” She thought it vital to emphasize the fact that he was indeed a jackass..

“I wanted to surprise you.” He said, his eyes darting over to look at her.

He face lengthened. “How am I supposed to get you off the floor?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.” Parker admitted. He made a sudden attempt to roll over but couldn’t get enough momentum to complete the maneuver. “Can I get a push?”

She buried her hands under him and gave him a shove. He managed to flip over to her to a prone position, his cheek pressed against the cold linoleum floor.

“Get up! Get up!” Skylar prompted him, her hands flapping like a hummingbird wing.

“There are cooties all over that floor!”

“All right.” Reaching above his head he found the side rail of the bed and pulled himself up, his shoulder muscle condensing into a tightened ball that pulled him from the floor like a tire jack.

Skylar, with her hands on his rib cage tried to keep him steady until he was back on the bed. She wasn’t sure how much good she actually did, but she had to do something and her contribution made all the difference in her mind.

“Don’t ever do that again!”

Parker nodded and agreed that he wouldn’t try it again, but he would try it again in less than twenty four hours. With Skylar asleep beside him, he slipped out of bed, nearly fell but he expected it this time and caught his balance on the edge of the bed. He did a couple of half knee bends, grimacing with the pain but he fought his way through it and did it again. His quadricep muscles began to burn but at the same time, he knew he was pouring strength back into them with a every pulse of his knees.

He slipped back into bed and caught his breath. Two weeks earlier he could sprint one hundred yards without getting winded. Now he could hardly stand without feeling as though he’d competed in the Boston marathon.

When Skylar awoke in the morning. She nearly went into convulsions when she found the bed empty.

“Parker!” She ran around to the other side of the bed but he wasn’t there. She went to the shower closet but the toilet was vacant.

She went to the door and flung it open and…

Hardheaded JackassI Only this time the thought made her smile. She found him seated with the nursing staff spinning around and around in the gray cloth office chair, like a little boy on a merry-goround.

The nurses did not seem to mind. A pretty nurse, with her chestnut color hair pulled up in a clip at the base of her skull had her nose in his junk.

Not really.

But close enough. She leaned over the edge of counter, her elbows propped up on the counter Her immediate response? She wanted to break off the half size of her five and half size foot squarely in the woman’s backend.

Hands off my man bitches! The devil inside of her almost shouted that last part out loud.

She made a queer noise and that brought the heads of the women turning towards her.

Her eyes went wide and her hand cupped her mouth. “Sorry.” She said and soon recovered. “What are you doing out here?”

Parker laughed and spun around in the chair one final time. “I surprised myself.” He confessed.

“He came out here by himself?”

The pretty brunette nurse nodded her head and smiled. “I was doing some charting at the computer and when I looked up I saw Parker standing right where you are. He asked if he could sit with us for a while.”

“How are you feeling?” Skylar asked him.

He smiled his widest smile in years. “Like I could take on the entire Colt’s team all by myself.”

Parker rose from the chair to demonstrate his ability as though it were some newly discovered powered that no other human on earth possessed. As soon as the weight transferred from his hind quarters to his legs, however, his knees almost buckled. The nurses reached out to steady him but he waved them off with a flip of his hand. “I’m all right.” He told them and used the counter to balance himself. His legs stiffened and he stood erect on both legs. “I’m starving and ready for breakfast.” Parker bent his arm at the elbow and continued. “Will you be so kind as to escort me to the cafeteria my dear?” **** Just the walk to the elevator exhausted Parker. Every muscle in his lower extremity burned, spasmed, nearly buckled and collapsed. He had to find stability against the wall and as he grimaced in agony, Skylar’s concern grew.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked, knowing that if he fell there would be no way she could pick him up.

“I don’t want to do this.” He told her shaking his head. “I have to.”

The elevator dinged and slid open. Without hesitation, Parker made his way into the elevator car and waited with his finger poised over the button marked “M” for Mezzanine.

His eyebrows peaked as he looked back at her. “Are you coming?”

A smile leapt to her face as she joined him in the elevator car.

Hardheaded Jackass. She thought as the elevator doors closed and the car began to descend. He was so stubborn. In all of their life together she’d never seen him fail. When things got tough he would rise to the occasion because those obstacles were mere only setbacks opportunities to improve. His first season as a Raider he threw as many interceptions than touchdowns but his rookie year was a tale of two halves. The first eight games he threw four touchdowns and ten interceptions. In the second half he turned those numbers around and threw four interceptions and ten touchdowns. His first game in his second season he threw seven touchdowns tying an NFL record with no interceptions and would throw a completion to the other team until the eighth game of the season.

She wondered silently what would happen to Parker if he ever faced failure. How would he respond. Something deep down inside told her she would soon find out.

Parker Super Bowl Sunday found Parker pacing. He could not sit still and he chewed his nails down into the quick. “Stop that!” Sklar finally barked at him. “It’s driving me nuts!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” Parker told her.

“You seem on edge.”

“You think so?” Parker asked from across the room. “I want to be there with them.”

“Well, you know what? You can come sit here with me.” She said patting the bed beside her.

“You’re not helping.” He explained. “I want to be there with my guys. I want to go to war with them.”

“First of all, it’s not war its a football game and second, they are fighting for you so come over here and enjoy it.”

Parker finally settled into bed, but in the minutes leading up to kick off, his eyes closed and he missed the entire first half. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked Skylar, after finding out that he missed half the game.

Skylar gave him a sour look. “I thought about it, but then I thought that it was best that you sleep.”

“What’s the score?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Parker nodded. “Why?” “It’s thirty eight to nothing.” She said, her head cocked to one side. Her tongue firmly planted in her cheek. She felt like a little girl again, confessing to her mother that she was the one who had bumped into the curio cabinet and broke the porcelain doll.

“Thirty eight to nothing? Wow! We are killing them!”

His response shocked her. She had not considered the possibility that he would refuse to believe that it was his team down on the map rather than the other way around.

“No dear.” Skylar corrected him. “It’s thirty eight to nothing in favor of Chicago.”

She watched his entire body deflate. “Really?”

The entire team looked lost, but she could not tell him that. She knew it would break his heart and he would only blame himself. She had watched in disbelief, not realizing how much Parker meant to the team on both sides of the ball. The offense struggled early on and could not move the ball. Parker’s backup threw three critical interceptions which led to three touchdowns. The defense managed to stop Chicago on all possessions that began with a punt or kickoff, but once the turnovers kicked in the defense began to fold and soon the Bears’ offense began marching up the field virtually unabated.

As it turned out, Skylar didn’t have to tell him. He saw it for himself when the third quarter began.

Raiders got the ball first and after a fumble in their own territory. The Bears recovered and two plays later they punched it into the endzone for a forty five to nothing lead. The Raiders responded with two unanswered scores that gave him hope but a nine minute drive followed with the Bears running it on every down. The score was now fifty two to nothing, and with that the television set switched off.

“What’s wrong?” Like she really needed to ask.

“I can’t watch anymore.” He said and his arm fell over his eyes. “I’ll get us back next season.” And crawled about of bed.

He dropped to the floor and began doing pushups. Skylar watched him with the curiosity of a zoo patron witnessing for the first time the behavior of some exotic animal.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting in shape.” He breathlessly hit the number twenty and stopped. He went to his face for a moment, resting his head on the cold linoleum floor.

Cooties! Her inner angel began jumping up and down inside her head.

He went back into the pushup position and began again.

“Stop it!” She said running over to his place in the floor and with perfect form tackled him to the ground. He rolled over and she straddled him to pin him to the floor.

The feeling of him beneath her brought back many memories. The carousel at the fair was one of the first that came to mind. Her stomach somersaulted in her tummy and it felt like her entrails felt all knotted up. Wasn’t long and she too began to breath a little heavy. She wanted him, right there on the floor, in the hospital, wherever she could have him.

Not going to happen. One of the voices inside her head shouted. Cooties up the ooh-hah? I don’t think so. She could almost see the army of cooties marching up the crack of her exposed back side, right past the blinking neon “No Admittance” sign. She did not need to carry the vision any further as the moment passed. She rolled off of him.

“What was that for?” He asked, out of breath.

“That is for you being stupid.” She explained. “You think killing yourself is going to help.”

“It was just pushups.”

“And tomorrow you will be wanting to run wind sprints up the stairwell.”

The thought had crossed his mind. He wondered how many floors he could do before collapsed.

“Doctor told me no exertions except when in the presence of the physical therapist.

If you want out of here, and I sure as hell do, you need to do what he says. No more no less.”

Parker rose to a seated position. “I guess you’re right.”

He walked back to bed, climbed beneath the covers and within a matter of minutes he began to snore. Skylar knew that her intervention had saved him from exercising himself into a physical collapse. She wasn’t certain what demons drove him to push his boundaries to their extremes, but she had a pretty good idea..

It was the one place he would never go back to.

In their little town of Indian Springs, down a red dirt road that stretched for miles into the backwoods, sat a three room double wide trailer. There in a front yard that was little more than hard packed dirt rose a three hundred year old oak tree with long crooked branches as thick as steel beams and with a trunk as round as a missile silo. The family moved there soon after his father’s suicide. Without a life insurance plan the family could not keep their brick home in the suburbs, so his mother moved herself and three kids to the double wide trailer onto land owned by her family.

Parker favored the pretty woman in her twenties and thirties, playing golf and daily rounds of tennis that bronzed her skin, toned her muscles and placed sun streaks in her hair. By her fifth decade, wracked with guilt and the dissolution of her lifestyle and abandoned by the friends she thought cared about her, she turned to drugs and alcohol.

Skylar saw the woman only once, but Parker would not let her meet the woman who brought him into the world. It was his senior year and she managed to sober up enough to see his final high school game. After the game when she waved to him from the stands, Parker circled his hand around her arm and pulled her away.

“Who is that woman?” Skylar asked trying to wave back as Parker scooted her along.

“No one important.” He growled.

“She seems to know you.” She had insisted, “Of course she knows me, that’s my mother.”

Parker had told her that his mother had died soon after his father’s suicide and perhaps it wasn’t as much of a lie as it seemed.

He carried a picture of his mother around with him in his wallet. The woman at the stadium that night did not deserve to stand in the same shadow as the woman in the picture, least of all claim to be the same person.

The blonde hair rich and full in the picture had fallen out and now resembled matted strings of graying straw. The once elegant features and contours of her face now resembled the makeup from a Hollywood zombie flick with her sunken cheeks and bulging eyes and skin as ashen as the end of an extinguished cigarette. The pearly white smile once framed so perfectly by a pair pretty glossed lips were now replaced by empty pitted gums blackened by decay. What teeth remained were ground to yellow nubs.

Skylar never had an opportunity to meet her again. A fire in the lab of her meth supplier consumed her. The funeral was a closed casket and Parker buried her in the cemetery plot beside his father in the spring before he and Skylar left for college.

“I hate I never got to meet her.” Skylar confessed to his sister at the cemetery.

“You never missed much.” His sister answered her. “She wasn’t much of a mother.”

This started a huge shouting match among siblings. “How can you say that?”

Parker shouted at his sister. “The woman we knew these last ten years was not our mother.” He told her. “She blamed herself for dad’s death and she’s self destructed because of it.”

As time passed stories about began to creep up from time to time. Horrible things about the woman she had never heard Parker talk about. Like the time she tried to seduce him. She was so high that she became confused and thought she crawled into her own bed rather than Parker’s. Finding a man in her bed she thought it was one of her several dalliances rather than her own son. Parker thought his mother had come to tuck him, cuddle up to him and actually love her son, but then she groped at his crotch and in his revulsion he swatted her off the bed, elbowing her across the orbital bone, breaking her nose, and knocking her unconscious.

The story came to her from a nightmare that woke him. Sweat ran down his chin and the sides of his face and pooled at the nape of his neck, his hair clumped and matted down to his scalp, he sat up straight in bed. He could still see her face, blood and snot all splattered around it.

Other nightmares followed. In one he was walking down the red dirt road towards the double wide trailer, when he heard rustling in the trees behind him. At first he dismissed it as the playful acts of a scurrying rabbit or a pair of squirrels quarreling over an acorn.

Then he heard the noise again only this time it sounded bigger and much closer; the sound of feet crunching dead dry leaves. He turned to see if anyone was following him up the lane. Then, from the clump of trees he saw a shadow emerge. Only it wasn’t a shadow, he realized, as he studied the figure more closely. It was charred bones, blackened by soot and decay. White eyes gazed out at him from their dark sockets and then the figure said with arms stretched out to receive him. “Come give Mommy a kiss!”

It was his own personal shop of horrors, that place. The place where he went only in his nightmares, the worst place he could imagine on earth.

That is what drove him. The fear that failure would deliver him to horror’s doorstep. and that charred mass would be there to greet him, wanting a kiss.

Skylar and Parker “Well,” Dr. Jules began as he flipped through Parker’s chart. “I must say I am

pleased by your recovery and pleasantly surprised. In my wildest dreams I would never have thought it could go this well.”

In typical Parker fashion his face declined any sign of satisfaction with the miles completed, only looking toward the miles left to travel. “When can I get back in the gym and start working towards next season?”

Dr. Jules looked at Skylar then his eyes traveled back to Parker. “I don’t think you grasp the full severity of your injury Parker. Don’t confuse the healing of your spinal cord with the healing of your vertebrae. That still has a very long recovery time.”

“When can I start working out again?” The same question, only rephrased.

Dr. Jules took in a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You aren’t making this very easy.”

Parker folded his arms and flashed an I don’t care look in his direction.

“I admire your persistence, that’s good. It will help get you through the long road ahead, but make no mistake about it, this is a marathon not a sprint.”

“You haven’t answered my question doc.”

Dr. Jules patted the blanket in the space molded by his right knee. “Take just a few weeks off. Do some film study if you want to and let’s talk about this in a couple of weeks when you come in for your first follow up. Maybe then I will have a clearer picture of your recovery.” Vernon thought it might give enough time to avoid the inevitable your career is over chat that no world class athlete ever dreamed they would hear. “I’m going to write those discharge papers and get you out of here tonight.”

Dr Jules scooted out that room like his hair was on fire. He moved so fast that his white lab coat floated out behind him like superman’s cape.

“That’s good news, right?” Skylar said to Parker once they were alone again.

“What is?” He asked.

“That you get to go home.” She reminded him.

“What am I supposed to do there?” He asked in his best poor pitiful me voice.

Skylar didn’t have an answer at first. Then she said. ‘Why don’t you start your own business? You always wanted to do that.”

Parker hoped to one day own a sports bar and grill chain. Half naked girls in cheerleading outfits serving us fried chicken wings and greasy burgers. Stuff he would not touch with a ten foot pole when he was in training, but he always loved a big basket of chicken wings during the basketball and baseball seasons. That was his dream when he retired, though. He wasn’t finished with his football career yet. Skylar believed differently,but she would keep her thoughts to herself. **** Skylar called for a car and charged it to Parker’s credit card, the one opened just for her use if she ever needed anything and he wasn’t around. It was a kind gesture, she thought at the time. He wanted to make sure that she always had money if she needed it.

On more than one occasion she felt the impulse to buy a new Louis Vuitton purse or a fleet’s worth of new shoes, one for every outfit, but the better angels of her nature always won out. Skylar knew that Parker would just pay the bill and never say a word. If it got too out of hand, he might close out the account but something in her doubted he would even do that. Even though it burned a hole in her wallet for quite some time, she never used it.

When she read off the number to the driver, she wondered if the card would even work. It cleared and he drove them to Parker’s Oakland Hills mansion.

Parker looked out at the six million dollar estate he bought with his signing bonus money. Only now did he question the purchase. Big empty house. He thought as the car turned into the driveway. He did not want to go in alone.

Reaching to take Skylar’s hand he asked, “Will you stay with me one more night? I don’t want to be alone.”

Skylar answered without thought. “Of course.” She regretted the words the moment the jumped from her mouth.

Too late now. She thought. Silly girl, you know what he wants. Of course she did, but she wanted the same thing.

She followed him from the car and let him help her with the bags. She packed light this time and only had two suitcases full. Dr. Jules hadn’t wanted Parker to lift anything heavier than five pounds, but she wasn’t women’s lib enough to not let a gentleman help her with her bags. Besides if women didn’t treat the men in their lives as mules, what good were they?

Skylar reached the door first and popped her key into the lock, opening the door she walked in and disarmed the security system on the keypad to her right. She knew the secret well enough. It was her birthday, single month year single digit day and two digit year. The alarm beeped once and disarmed.

Parker entered behind her with a bag in each hand. He carried the bags off to the guest bedroom and put them down on the bed. He turned to find Skylar had followed him and was now standing in the doorway.

He read the look on her face. “I didn’t want to assume.” He explained, his gaze shifting to the bags.

Parker came to her and brushed the backs of her fingers across her cheek, just below her left eye. “Thank you.” He began.

“What for?” Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room.

“For everything.” He said. “For being there for me. For doing more than I ever deserved or could have asked for.”

He could read her eyes and the message was as clear as neon sign waving the words “Jesus Saves”. She wanted him.

Her voice dry, Skylar tried to conceal her desire but knew her eyes betrayed her.

She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what friends do right?”

Parker edged closer, his body pressed against her. His hand fell from her cheek to her chin and with a gentle tug he pulled her bottom lip away from the top. His eyes stayed locked in her gaze as his mouth slowly lowered. He paused for just a moment, like a nervous diver preparing to take his first plunge off a very tall cliff. When she did not resist or pull away, he leapt. His mouth closed in on hers and like a parched traveler, he drank liberally from her well.

Skylar’s hands traveled up from his elbows, creeping over triceps and around shoulder muscles as thick as seat cushions, finally up and over his trapezoids to his neck where her fingers curled around the hair at the back of his head. Leaping into his arms and swinging her legs around her waist, she felt his strong arms slip under her buttocks and hoist her up. SHe was above him now, kissing him as much as he kissed her.

So much for only carrying five pounds. She thought as he carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom. With a kick of his heel, he closed the door and the room closed into darkness. ****

In the early morning hours, Skylar found herself awake and staring into her reflection in the mirror of Parker’s bathroom, wearing only his t-shirt, and headful of trundled blonde hair. She had made love to Parker dozens of times in this house but she never regretted it, until now.

While staring at her reflection she began to hear the voice of her darker nature echoing inside her head, so loud that she could almost see lips moving in the cloned version of herself in the mirror.

Well here you are again. Back where you always wind up. Back in his bed, back in his arms. He always wins you know. You give everything and he gives you nothing in return, except for one hell of a good scratch every now and again. Her right eyebrow peaked with that thought. Parker definitely knew the combinations to her feel good safe.

What are you going to do now? Hop back into his life again? Go ahead let him destroy all that you worked for, all that you dreamed for. Give him your independence if you want to, but you will never, NEVER, get what you want from him.

Like an attorney ending her closing arguments, the little demon faded back to the desk and awaited the jury’s decision. Skylar thought she could see the little succubus inside a dark twinkle in her eye. Sitting there, with arms folded and big shit eating grin on her face.

Her inner angel offered no retort. She was never one for getting up early and probably didn’t realize that court was in session.

Leaving the bathroom, she crept downstairs, called for a taxi and dressed. She thought about a quick trip upstairs for one final kiss goodbye, but she couldn’t push herself past the second step. Afraid she would wake him, or even worse, change her mind, she turned and went out, waiting in the early morning darkness at the curb for the cab to pick her. **** Parker awoke when his open hand came to rest on cool, empty sheets rather than hip his subconscious expected. His eyes peeled open and he blinked in the dim light of the room. The comforter beside him was thrown back, the pillow case left rumpled and turned catty cornered above twisted sheets still bathed in Skylar’s scent.

He sat upright, bare chested and twisted out of the mattress. He pulled on his robe and went to look for her. His first stop was the bathroom. After a look in the empty shower stall and an empty tub, he left and went downstairs. He thought he would find her in the kitchen but when she wasn’t there he went out the back door. The hills spanned rolled out in front of him, brown fading into gray the further they rolled away from his back patio.

Confused he returned to the house and went to retrieve his phone. It sat charging on the dining room table above the crumpled yellow pages, containing the handwritten speech he still wanted to share with her. He turned on his phone, found her number in his contacts and punched dial.

After five rings the voice mail picked up.

“Sky, it me…” His voice trailed off. “I just woke up and saw that you weren’t here.

Where are you? Call me.” He hung up and looked at his text messages. There were several but none of them from her. He went to his email and found several but at the top of the list was one from skyhigh84. It came in at five am. He punched the line with his thumb and read it.

Parker

I wanted to be there when you woke this morning, so I am writing you this because I owe you an explanation. I hope that by the time you are finished reading this you will understand why I can’t tell you these things in person.

When we’re together, I find myself willing to throw away every day of my future life to spend just one more day with you, and it scares me.

I thought I lost you on that football field and I thought the pain actually killed some part of me, but I was wrong. Because I still feel her inside, screaming in pain as I type this letter to you. I keep telling myself that soon that part of me will fade away, but somehow I know that this pain will linger for a very long time.

It is hard to imagine a life without you in it, but for the first time I choose the hard path and I choose to stand and face the challenges it brings. I’m letting it all go. I’m letting you go.

We know each other too well to continue living a lie, telling ourselves we want the same things.

I want a life together but I know that will never happen and it is as unfair to you as it is to me, to continue laying claim to something that was never really mine.

I know you love me. I feel it in every kiss and in every touch. I’m afraid I may go my entire life and never again feel that depth of love, but it hasn’t been enough to make you surrender your heart to me so it is not enough to keep me waiting.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I wish for all the happiness that is possible in the life you choose as I seek out my own little corner of happiness in this world.

If you call and beg me to forget this letter, I know my resolve will falter, for my heart weeps without you. So I ask only that you let these words be the last that pass between us. Give me time to accept our last night together and to warm my broken heart beside the embers of our extinguished flame.

Marley Untethered In a sports bar in the Fort Worth International Airport, Parker Abbey ordered a Coors Light with his turkey sandwich. Beside him was his boarding pass, a first class ticket on a

Delta Flight to deliver him to Pensacola, Florida. He had a rental car waiting for him at the Avis counter and that would bring him down Interstate 10 to Marley Untethered his lake house just outside of his home town of Indian Springs.

It was a four room log cabin overlooking Lake Forrest on the southern border of the the Alabama and Florida state lines. Marley Untethered was his oasis from the burdens of his career and his success. He needed that oasis now as a place to resurrect that career and put his life back in order.

He departed Oakland earlier in the day and traveled across two time zones in under three hours. The light outside the airport began to dim and the short day appeared at an end.

The bartender recognized him and asked if he could sign a napkin for him to hang up on the wall. “I’m a Cowboys fan, but my sister went to Alabama.” He explained.

Parker was happy to oblige and scrawled his name legibly on a clean bar napkin and slid it over. As he did so he saw the screen behind the bartender was tuned into ESPN. Sportscenter was on and a picture of his smiling face appeared on the screen.

He asked the bartender to turn up the volume.

“According to reliable sources,” The sportscaster said, “The Oakland Raiders will be parting ways with their Pro Bowl quarterback. ESPN has learned today that the Raiders intend to cut Parker Abbey from the squad. Parker suffered a severe spinal cord injury in a collision with Trevor Grimke in last month’s AFC Championship game. Parker Abbey threw for more than three thousand yards in the last two seasons and was on pace to eclipse the four thousand yard mark this season before the injury. Sources tell ESPN that team management attempted to shop Parker around to other teams in a potential trade but there were no takers. Parker Abbey was in the middle of a six year twenty six million dollar contract.”

Parker fished out his phone. He still had it on airplane mode.

“Damn it.” He said as he now saw the twenty plus missed calls and dozens of text messages.

He called Coach Parsons’ cell phone.

“Parker!” Coach Parsons answered on the second ring. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where were you?”

“I’m in Dallas on my way home. I had the phone turned off during the flight.”

“Parker I have something I need to tell you.”

“I already know Coach. I just saw it on ESPN.” “I’m sorry Parker. I wanted to talk to you before it got out to the press, but someone in the office leaked it.”

“Why did you do it?”

“It wasn’t my decision.” Coach Parsons explained. “Management made the call because the prognosis from Dr. Jules just wasn’t promising.”

“What did it say?”

“His recommendation was that you never step foot on a football field again. He is one of the world’s foremost authorities on spinal cord injuries Parker and if he says you shouldn’t play, then you shouldn’t play.”

“So what do I do now?”

“I wish I had any easy answer for you but it just isn’t that simple. So, I’m going to advise you to do something that makes you happy. You were smart with your investments you have plenty of capital so find something you love and do it.”

Parker offered no reply. He stared down at the stained bar, rubbing his temples with his right hand. He wanted to cry, but not in public. He could not let these people see him weep like a lost child in the middle of the airport.

“Parker?” Coach Parsons broke through the prolonged silence.

“I have to go. I have a plane to catch.” That was a lie. His plane would not begin the boarding process for another forty five minutes. He punched the end button and severed the connection.

Looking into the mirror behind the bar he could see his reflection above the rows of liquor bottles. What would he do? He would not go back to Oakland. There was nothing left for him there, he knew that much. Once he got home to Alabama, he would call his real estate agent and put the house on the market. .

The bartender slid him a second Coors Light. “This one is on the house.” He said.

“Thank you.” He poured the contents of that bottle, combining it with what remained of the first, into a tall glass shaped like a female underwear model.

He pushed away the last of his sandwich as his appetite left him and sipped his beer. **** Parker arrived at his gate in Pensacola, Florida without mishap. After settling up with the girl at the rental car counter he came to claim his baggage from carousel number 3. He exited the airport, with the bags trailing behind him, through a set of double doors and followed the signs to the rental car parking lot. He located his rental, opened the trunk and inserted his bags. He climbed in behind the wheel of a Toyota Camry, fired the engine, drove off the airport grounds, merged on the interstate, set his cruise control to seventy five, and just drove in silence.

He pulled into the driveway of Marley Untethered and killed the engine. He retrieved his luggage, went inside, and shut down the alarm.

He made a fire in the fire pit, poured scotch into an ice filled glass and went out on the back patio to stare out over the water. There were two lounge chairs, both turned to face the water with the fire pit between them. Turning to look at the unoccupied lounge chair, he could see Skylar sitting there. She turned and look at him and her pretty mouth framed the smile that he loved so much and then faded away into the darkness.

With no one around he finally let the tears come. His thoughts turned to the hunting rifle in the closet or the pain killers in the medicine cabinet. Handful of sleeping pills a warm bath, he could fall asleep and slip peacefully beneath the water. There was no one to miss him now.

I would miss you.

His mind repainted the image of Skylar beside him, her feet extended on the lounge chair. There was a chill in the air but she was wearing a tank top over white shorts, her feet were bare. It was the outfit she wore that day, a hot and humid summer day in May. It was Memorial Day weekend, he remembered.

“I miss you babe.” He told the concocted image of Skylar. “I miss you so much it hurts.”

If you hurt yourself, how do you think I would feel? Do you think I wouldn’t hurt? Is that what you want? Do you want to hurt me, because I hurt you?

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, but what is there in this life if I don’t have you?”

We can’t know what tomorrow holds. She told him as he filled his mouth with scotch.

And you aren’t going to find me at the bottom of that scotch bottle.

Parker engaged a second swill of scotch and poured more over the ice. “I won’t find you sober either.” He said and her image faded away.

He stood up, felt the liquor swishing around in his head and throwing him off balance. He went inside, closing the sliding door behind him. He finished off the last of his scotch and walked to the gun safe. The door failed to open after the second attempt, but he tried a third time and the latch finally clicked. He withdrew his 9mm handgun and a single round. Closing the safe door he slipped the round into the chamber and shut his eyes. The slide of metal chinked as it locked back into place.

With the safety on, he returned to the cabinet and withdrew a bottle of black label whiskey from the shelf. He screwed off the top and drank it down like lemonade on a hot summer day. Carrying the bottle with him he staggered up the stairs to the bedroom level, entered the master, and leaned against the far wall, his back pressed against the cool wood paneling, and he slid to the floor. Pulling his knees to his chest he swilled a second round of whisky and released the safety switch.

Now Skylar appeared to him on the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around her ankles. She peered over her knees as she talked to him.

You are a selfish bastard Parker Abbey. She said, crying, tears glistening on her cheeks as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Go ahead! She yelled at him and her feet fell to the floor. Who’s going to find you Parker? Will Jennifer find you? Will I? Who will scrub your blood from the floor or gather up bits of brain and skull that bullet will scatter across the room?

Parker convulsed with sobs. His first gasp of air sounded like a drowning man, gasping for one last breath before diving back under.

“I can’t do this without you.” He said rising to his knees. He opened his eyes and through his tears he could see her, kneeling there with him. He thought he felt her hands crawl over his. He looked down and saw them, he lifted them to his lips and he could feel them caress her soft flesh. He could smell the scent of her lotion and a hint of her perfume on the air. The aroma of coconut filled his nostrils, the scent of her favorite shampoo.

See. I am here with you. She told him. I’ll never leave you, not so long as you hold me in your heart. You’re a fighter Parker, so fight for me. Remember what you wrote.

Remember the note on the table.

“I never gave it to you.”

I know that. I don’t know how you feel because you never read it to me. You never told me what was in your heart. Don’t you think I might like to hear it? That I might like to know how you feel about me?

“It’s too late now,” It’s never too late.

“It’s too late.” He repeated and reached for the gun.

Off in the distance he thought he heard a door unlock, and swing open. Far down a chambered hallway he could hear the echo of his name. **** Jennifer Abbey Shell tried everything she could to reach her brother. She began calling first, then tried texting and finally sent several emails. When all that failed, she ran

the tracker from her phone. It pinged his signal in Indian Springs and she knew, he was at Marley Untethered.

She drove over to the lake. There was a rented Toyota Camry still parked in the driveway. She knocked and knocked and then knocked some more. She put an ear to the door and tried to listen for any movement.

Her hand dove into her purse and retrieved a set of house keys. She inserted a brass key into the lock, twisted it around her wrist, the door released from the jam and swung open. Jennifer entered and called for her big brother. “Parker?”

There was no reply.

“Parker?” Her voice resounded off the high ceilings.

She went to the kitchen and saw his cell phone charging on the bar crafted from an oak tree. She grabbed it up and checked for missed calls and messages. There were hundreds of them. His last call to Coach Parsons’ was made almost three weeks ago. She passed from the kitchen to the back patio, but found only a half empty bottle of scotch. She reentered the house and discovered the depleted shelves of a once well stocked liquor cabinet. The doors swung wide on the hinges, empty bottles of whisky, scotch, bourbon, rum, vodka and wine littered the floor.

“Parker?” She called again.

Check the gun cabinet. Instructed a voice inside her head.

She remembered the combination and dialed it up on the first try. The latch popped open, and she could see a bow and a quiver of arrows, a row of shotguns and rifles then she checked on the second shelf and found the gun case for the 9mm but there was no 9mm inside.

“Oh my God!” She said, his throat seizing on the words as her thoughts turned to her father. “Oh my God! Parker!” She screamed the words now. Turning on her heels she raced up the stairs and dashed into the bedroom.

She found him sitting on the floor. Head turned down, eyes closed, gun resting in a limp and lifeless right hand. There was a thick growth of beard around his chin, an empty bottle of black label in the left.

“Parker!” She screamed again and ran to him, her knees sliding across the wood floor.

With a hand on each side of his face, she turned him right then left, searching for a bullet wound. He reeked of booze, sweat, and filth. His body looked emaciated and hollow, dehydrated, drunk, but alive. **** Skylar’s ghost faded from him when he felt cool hands around his face, tossing his head from one side to the other. He looked up and suddenly a bright light filled his eyes, burning his retinas with their intensity.

“Who are you?” He asked. His tongue felt thick and swollen, his mouth dry and his stomach empty. His head hurt, in fact everything about him hurt. There was a dull throbbing ache directly behind his eyes.

“Parker, its me Jennifer.” He heard a female’s voice and then felt her arms around him.

“Jennifer?” He asked groggily. “Where am I?” Every syllable of every word struck him with a twinge of pain.

“You’re home Parker. You came home.”

Skylar When Skylar heard about Parker being cut from the team, she panicked. “I have to call him.” She said to Allison as she grabbed her phone.

She called his cell phone but there was no answer. She dialed him again but still no answer. She dialed his house number but there was no answer there either.

“I’m going over there.” She told Allison as she reached for her car keys Allison went to the door and intervened. “I’m not going to stop you but you need to hear what I have to say.”

Skylar’s breathing was as rapid as machine gun fire and her heart pounded away with a death metal rhythm.

“I promised I would do this.” Allison reminded her of the oath Skylar made her take the day she wrote the email to Parker. “I promised I would make you think about this and not let you just react.”

Skyler sucked in a lung full of air. Her head bobbed up and down like a cork on water. “Ok.” “If you go over it’s just going to suck you back in.” Allison reasoned. “He’s a big boy and he has to face this on his own. You can’t always be there to soothe out the wrinkles for him.”

“But this is going to kill him.” Skylar said.

“Go ahead then.” Allison said and slid away from the door. “I kept my promise.”

Skylar stared at the door and the keys felt like a giant iron ball in her hand. Allison was right and she knew it. She pulled up her phone again and dialed Parker’s sister.

Jennifer picked up on the third ring.

“Hey girl what up?”

“Not much, I was wondering if you heard from Parker.”

“No. Not yet. He rarely calls to check in. Why?” “The Raiders just cut Parker from the team.”

“Oh no.” Jennifer gasped. “Why? I thought you said he was doing better.”

“He was, but the according to Dr. Jules, there is a high recurrence possibility if he played again.”

“I guess that’s a good thing, then.”

“It is, but I’m worried about him. He hasn’t answered or returned any of my calls in the last couple of hours and I don’t know where he is.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s a pretty tough cookie.”

Skylar wasn’t so certain. Parker wanted people to believe he was John Wayne but she knew him better than most and she knew that there was an undercooked side to Parker, kind of like a battleship adrift at sea with all the armament and firepower it could need but no keel to keep it afloat.

She ended the conversation with a heartfelt farewell and tossed the phone on the coffee table. Sinking into the closest chair, she slumped and sighed. “I don’t know what to do?” Skylar said to Allison.

“He’s a big boy. Let him figure it out.” She grabbed her latest issue of Cosmo and started for her bedroom. “He’s not your project anymore.”

Allison was right. She surrendered all of her responsibilities to Parker that morning, when she sent him that email.

He probably doesn’t want anything to do with us after the way we treated him.

Skylar was unsure what voice that was, sounded like a chorus of voices in her head all telling her the same thing. How would we feel if we got the same treatment from him?

“Devastated.” The sound of her own voice so surprised her that she started at the sound of it. She decided to stay home.

That night she dreamed of some far off place, with wood paneled walls and cold wooden floors. The smell of alcohol and sweat mixing in the air to form a noxious concoction that twisted her stomach into knots and made her feel nauseous. There was a man there with her, his face hollow and twisted with pain. The smell of alcohol hung on his breath and there was a gun in his right hand. **** “Hey there.”

She sat up straight, startled at the sound of the unexpected voice. She looked up to find Donnie standing there with his coffee in hand.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked.

“No, of course not.” Skylar forced a smile but she was happy to see him.

“You look terrible.” He said and regretted the comment immediately. “I’m sorry. The doctor in me just comes out and opens his big dumb mouth.”

Skylar laughed. “I haven’t been sleeping well.” She explained rubbing at her eyes.

“I keep having these horrible dreams.”

“Stressed out about something, maybe?”

“A little bit. I haven’t heard from a friend of mine in a couple of weeks and I’m starting to get a little worried.”

“Is it the same friend I saw that night in the ER?” Donnie obviously assumed she meant a woman friend. She saw no need to correct him on that assumption. “Allison you mean? No, she’s fine.”

“How’s her ankle holding up?”

“All better.” Skylar answered. “She’s walking on it now, putting weight on it with almost no pain at all.”

“Good to hear.” He said and stamped his hand on the table. “I have to get to the hospital, but if you are free for dinner tonight, I would love to cook for you.”

Skylar nodded and her smile brightened her face. “I would like that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He said rising from his seat. “Unless that’s too forward.

Otherwise let’s call it an awkward conversational get together between acquaintances where one party possesses secret hopes of getting lucky.” He smiled and winked at her.

He was only half kidding.

Skylar threw her head back and laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but she found his dorkish sense of humor adorable. “A date is fine.” **** Skylar overdressed.

Following the directions he texted her she found herself standing in the glow of lamplight, knocking on his front door, in a somewhat revealing crimson dress and six inch heels that were two inches too inappropriate.

Donnie answered the door in a t-shirt and jeans and his mouth fell open when he saw her.

“I over did it.” She said apologetically, her face ripening with color.

Donnie tried to speak but an unseen hand gripped his throat choking away the words at their source. “Y… y…. You look…” A stiff exhale of wind raced between a pair of pursed lips forming the sound of a demurred whistle. “Stunning! Just. Stunning!”

Her cheeks felt hot. That’s good. Skylar thought. Now my cheeks match my dress.

She could not have asked for a better reception.

She came in to find his six year old son sitting on the couch, coloring a picture “Skylar this is Dylan. Dylan I would like you to meet Skylar.”

“Nice to meet you Dylan.” Skylar said as she sat down beside him on the couch.

“What are you coloring?”

“A picture for you.” The little boy said. “I’m doing my best to stay inside the lines but that’s really hard.”

“For me?” Skylar putting her hands to her heart. “Oh, that is very beautiful Dylan thank you so much.”

Donnie stepped in. “We’ll be right back.” He said taking his son by the hand. “We have to go wash up for dinner.” As they started up the stairs, Donnie said, “There is a bottle of wine chilling in the kitchen. If you would like a glass.”

That’s a winner! Skylar thought and rose to find her way to the kitchen.

She walked into a room that was as large as her apartment. In the middle island she found two bottles of wine, one red the other white and a pair of glasses. She prepared one glass and returned to the previous room, her heels tapping out a steady rhythm as she crossed from one room to the next.

There was one picture in the adjoining room. It was a picture of Donnie on his wedding day and on his arm he held the hand of his bride all primed in her simple and elegant wedding gown. They both seemed so happy and so tragic all at the same time.

She heard her dates for the evening return down the steps and the sight of them brought a smile across her lips. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt they both now wore suits and ties, all handsome and good looking just for her.

Skylar knelt to adjust Dylan’s bow tie, a red and green plaid pattern over a navy blue field. She suddenly felt like an intruder; an interloper moving in on a family that belonged to another woman.

Don’t be such a ninny. She told herself. Just drink copious amounts of wine and soon you won’t feel anything.

I also want be able to drive home.

And that is a bad thing?

Donnie adjusted his own tie and coat. “What about me?” He asked.

“Well.” She told him. “You pretty good looking but I think you’ll have to come in second to very stiff competition.”

“I’ll take second.” He smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He offered his arm and escorted her to the table.

**** “He invited you to his house and didn’t tell you that his son would be there?” Allison asked as the two of them lay in Skylar’s bed after the date. “That’s kind of odd.”

“Clumsy.” Skylar corrected. “Not odd. I just don’t think he knows how to go about doing this and he comes across as a little awkward and a bit of a dork.”

“And that’s cute?”

“Kind of.” Skylar admitted. “I think he’s adorable.”

“So you are going to see him again?”

“I don’t think so.” Skylar answered. “I felt really uncomfortable.”

“In what way?”

“Like I didn’t belong. I kept imagining his dead wife in the room with us, wanting to scratch out my eyes if she got the chance.”

“That’s kind of creepy.”

“Very creepy.” Skylar agreed. “And I don’t know why, but I felt like I didn’t belong.

Like something inside of me was trying to get me to understand that this wasn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

“You like Donnie right?”

“Yes.” Skylar nodded. “I like him, but he’s not mine.”

“Parker? You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately haven’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I passed by your room a couple of nights ago while you were sleeping and I thought I heard you crying so I came to check on you. You were in there talking to him in your sleep?”

“What did I say?” Skylar felt a chill crawl up her back and her skin burst into a bloom of goose pimples.

“You said ‘You’re a fighter Parker, so fight for me. Remember what you wrote.you never read it to me.’”

“Remember what you wrote?” Skylar questioned.

What did that mean? Her thoughts carried her back to her last night with Parker and the crumpled yellow sheets lying on the dining room table. She noticed the pages and the dim outline of handwritten words bleeding through from the other side. She touched them, but never read them, because… because… “Don’t you think I might like to hear it?”

Suddenly she remembered. The pages on Parker’s table was some kind of note… or… speech. Something he wrote down to tell her but never had the opportunity.

Her eyes shifted to Allison and widened. “The pages on Parker’s table.”

“What are you talking about?”

Skylar shot up from the pillow.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I already think you’re crazy.” Allison corrected her. “So why don’t you give it a shot and tell me.”

“I think while I was dreaming, I was talking to Parker. Not just in my mind but in his.”

“Yep! You are definitely crazy.” Allison said.

“Shh. Shut up and listen.” Skylar told her about the handwritten pages on the table in Parker’s dining room. “He wrote me a letter.”

“That’s cheesy.” Allison said with an envying grin. She wished some hunk of man candy had written her something cheesy.

“He never intended for me to read it. He wanted to tell me whatever was on those pages and he wrote down his thoughts because he didn’t want to forget.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Skylar grinned. “I don’t know, but I think he told me.”

“What if he threw the letter away? He was probably pretty pissed when he read your email.”

Skylar closed her eyes groping for the answer in the darkness. She shook her head.

“I don’t think so. He left them there.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” Skylar asked opening her eyes.

“Get your narrow ass over there and read what’s on this damn letter.”

When Skylar heard about Parker being cut from the team, she panicked. “I have to call him.” She said to Allison as she grabbed her phone.

She called his cell phone but there was no answer. She dialed him again but still no answer. She dialed his house number but there was no answer there either.

“I’m going over there.” She told Allison as she reached for her car keys Allison went to the door and intervened. “I’m not going to stop you but you need to hear what I have to say.”

Skylar’s breathing was as rapid as machine gun fire and her heart pounded away with a death metal rhythm.

“I promised I would do this.” Allison reminded her of the oath Skylar made her take the day she wrote the email to Parker. “I promised I would make you think about this and not let you just react.”

Skyler sucked in a lung full of air. Her head bobbed up and down like a cork on water. “Ok.” “If you go over it’s just going to suck you back in.” Allison reasoned. “He’s a big boy and he has to face this on his own. You can’t always be there to soothe out the wrinkles for him.”

“But this is going to kill him.” Skylar said.

“Go ahead then.” Allison said and slid away from the door. “I kept my promise.”

Skylar stared at the door and the keys felt like a giant iron ball in her hand. Allison was right and she knew it. She pulled up her phone again and dialed Parker’s sister.

Jennifer picked up on the third ring.

“Hey girl what up?”

“Not much, I was wondering if you heard from Parker.”

“No. Not yet. He rarely calls to check in. Why?” “The Raiders just cut Parker from the team.”

“Oh no.” Jennifer gasped. “Why? I thought you said he was doing better.”

“He was, but the according to Dr. Jules, there is a high recurrence possibility if he played again.”

“I guess that’s a good thing, then.”

“It is, but I’m worried about him. He hasn’t answered or returned any of my calls in the last couple of hours and I don’t know where he is.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s a pretty tough cookie.”

Skylar wasn’t so certain. Parker wanted people to believe he was John Wayne but she knew him better than most and she knew that there was an undercooked side to Parker, kind of like a battleship adrift at sea with all the armament and firepower it could need but no keel to keep it afloat.

She ended the conversation with a heartfelt farewell and tossed the phone on the coffee table. Sinking into the closest chair, she slumped and sighed. “I don’t know what to do?” Skylar said to Allison.

“He’s a big boy. Let him figure it out.” She grabbed her latest issue of Cosmo and started for her bedroom. “He’s not your project anymore.”

Allison was right. She surrendered all of her responsibilities to Parker that morning, when she sent him that email.

He probably doesn’t want anything to do with us after the way we treated him.

Skylar was unsure what voice that was, sounded like a chorus of voices in her head all telling her the same thing. How would we feel if we got the same treatment from him?

“Devastated.” The sound of her own voice so surprised her that she started at the sound of it. She decided to stay home.

That night she dreamed of some far off place, with wood paneled walls and cold wooden floors. The smell of alcohol and sweat mixing in the air to form a noxious concoction that twisted her stomach into knots and made her feel nauseous. There was a man there with her, his face hollow and twisted with pain. The smell of alcohol hung on his breath and there was a gun in his right hand. **** “Hey there.”

She sat up straight, startled at the sound of the unexpected voice. She looked up to find Donnie standing there with his coffee in hand.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked.

“No, of course not.” Skylar forced a smile but she was happy to see him.

“You look terrible.” He said and regretted the comment immediately. “I’m sorry. The doctor in me just comes out and opens his big dumb mouth.”

Skylar laughed. “I haven’t been sleeping well.” She explained rubbing at her eyes.

“I keep having these horrible dreams.”

“Stressed out about something, maybe?”

“A little bit. I haven’t heard from a friend of mine in a couple of weeks and I’m starting to get a little worried.”

“Is it the same friend I saw that night in the ER?” Donnie obviously assumed she meant a woman friend. She saw no need to correct him on that assumption. “Allison you mean? No, she’s fine.”

“How’s her ankle holding up?”

“All better.” Skylar answered. “She’s walking on it now, putting weight on it with almost no pain at all.”

“Good to hear.” He said and stamped his hand on the table. “I have to get to the hospital, but if you are free for dinner tonight, I would love to cook for you.”

Skylar nodded and her smile brightened her face. “I would like that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He said rising from his seat. “Unless that’s too forward.

Otherwise let’s call it an awkward conversational get together between acquaintances where one party possesses secret hopes of getting lucky.” He smiled and winked at her.

He was only half kidding.

Skylar threw her head back and laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but she found his dorkish sense of humor adorable. “A date is fine.” **** Skylar overdressed.

Following the directions he texted her she found herself standing in the glow of lamplight, knocking on his front door, in a somewhat revealing crimson dress and six inch heels that were two inches too inappropriate.

Donnie answered the door in a t-shirt and jeans and his mouth fell open when he saw her.

“I over did it.” She said apologetically, her face ripening with color.

Donnie tried to speak but an unseen hand gripped his throat choking away the words at their source. “Y… y…. You look…” A stiff exhale of wind raced between a pair of pursed lips forming the sound of a demurred whistle. “Stunning! Just. Stunning!”

Her cheeks felt hot. That’s good. Skylar thought. Now my cheeks match my dress.

She could not have asked for a better reception.

She came in to find his six year old son sitting on the couch, coloring a picture “Skylar this is Dylan. Dylan I would like you to meet Skylar.”

“Nice to meet you Dylan.” Skylar said as she sat down beside him on the couch.

“What are you coloring?”

“A picture for you.” The little boy said. “I’m doing my best to stay inside the lines but that’s really hard.”

“For me?” Skylar putting her hands to her heart. “Oh, that is very beautiful Dylan thank you so much.”

Donnie stepped in. “We’ll be right back.” He said taking his son by the hand. “We have to go wash up for dinner.” As they started up the stairs, Donnie said, “There is a bottle of wine chilling in the kitchen. If you would like a glass.”

That’s a winner! Skylar thought and rose to find her way to the kitchen.

She walked into a room that was as large as her apartment. In the middle island she found two bottles of wine, one red the other white and a pair of glasses. She prepared one glass and returned to the previous room, her heels tapping out a steady rhythm as she crossed from one room to the next.

There was one picture in the adjoining room. It was a picture of Donnie on his wedding day and on his arm he held the hand of his bride all primed in her simple and elegant wedding gown. They both seemed so happy and so tragic all at the same time.

She heard her dates for the evening return down the steps and the sight of them brought a smile across her lips. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt they both now wore suits and ties, all handsome and good looking just for her.

Skylar knelt to adjust Dylan’s bow tie, a red and green plaid pattern over a navy blue field. She suddenly felt like an intruder; an interloper moving in on a family that belonged to another woman.

Don’t be such a ninny. She told herself. Just drink copious amounts of wine and soon you won’t feel anything.

I also want be able to drive home.

And that is a bad thing?

Donnie adjusted his own tie and coat. “What about me?” He asked.

“Well.” She told him. “You pretty good looking but I think you’ll have to come in second to very stiff competition.”

“I’ll take second.” He smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He offered his arm and escorted her to the table. **** “He invited you to his house and didn’t tell you that his son would be there?” Allison asked as the two of them lay in Skylar’s bed after the date. “That’s kind of odd.”

“Clumsy.” Skylar corrected. “Not odd. I just don’t think he knows how to go about doing this and he comes across as a little awkward and a bit of a dork.”

“And that’s cute?”

“Kind of.” Skylar admitted. “I think he’s adorable.”

“So you are going to see him again?”

“I don’t think so.” Skylar answered. “I felt really uncomfortable.”

“In what way?”

“Like I didn’t belong. I kept imagining his dead wife in the room with us, wanting to scratch out my eyes if she got the chance.”

“That’s kind of creepy.”

“Very creepy.” Skylar agreed. “And I don’t know why, but I felt like I didn’t belong.

Like something inside of me was trying to get me to understand that this wasn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

“You like Donnie right?”

“Yes.” Skylar nodded. “I like him, but he’s not mine.”

“Parker? You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately haven’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I passed by your room a couple of nights ago while you were sleeping and I thought I heard you crying so I came to check on you. You were in there talking to him in your sleep?”

“What did I say?” Skylar felt a chill crawl up her back and her skin burst into a bloom of goose pimples.

“You said ‘You’re a fighter Parker, so fight for me. Remember what you wrote.you never read it to me.’”

“Remember what you wrote?” Skylar questioned.

What did that mean? Her thoughts carried her back to her last night with Parker and the crumpled yellow sheets lying on the dining room table. She noticed the pages and the dim outline of handwritten words bleeding through from the other side. She touched them, but never read them, because… because… “Don’t you think I might like to hear it?”

Suddenly she remembered. The pages on Parker’s table was some kind of note… or… speech. Something he wrote down to tell her but never had the opportunity.

Her eyes shifted to Allison and widened. “The pages on Parker’s table.”

“What are you talking about?”

Skylar shot up from the pillow.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I already think you’re crazy.” Allison corrected her. “So why don’t you give it a shot and tell me.”

“I think while I was dreaming, I was talking to Parker. Not just in my mind but in his.”

“Yep! You are definitely crazy.” Allison said.

“Shh. Shut up and listen.” Skylar told her about the handwritten pages on the table in Parker’s dining room. “He wrote me a letter.”

“That’s cheesy.” Allison said with an envying grin. She wished some hunk of man candy had written her something cheesy.

“He never intended for me to read it. He wanted to tell me whatever was on those pages and he wrote down his thoughts because he didn’t want to forget.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Skylar grinned. “I don’t know, but I think he told me.”

“What if he threw the letter away? He was probably pretty pissed when he read your email.”

Skylar closed her eyes groping for the answer in the darkness. She shook her head.

“I don’t think so. He left them there.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” Skylar asked opening her eyes.

“Get your narrow ass over there and read what’s on this damn letter.”

The Letter Skylar and Allison reached Parker’s house just before midnight. Allison drove them there and she parked her car in the back, right next to super sized Ford F-250.

“Do you think he’s home?” Allison asked killing the engine. The dark house took on an ominous quality against the silhouetted hills rolling out beyond it.

“I don’t think so.” Skylar told her. “I think he’s at Marley’s” “Who is Marley?”

“Marley Untethered.” She explained. “Its a lake house he owns back home in Alabama. We go there at least once a year and visit family around Memorial Day.” Skylar tugged on the door latch. It popped open and she stepped out and away from the car. Giving it a tap with her hip, the door closed. She did not slam it but it sounded louder than usual against the background of sleeping silence.

Allison fell in line behind her and Skylar went to the door. Her hand trembled as she fumbled the keys from her purse. What am I worried about? Perhaps she feared that some apparitional boogeyman waited for her just beyond the turn of that key in the lock.

I’m afraid of what the letter is going to say.

That was both reasonable and crazy at the same time. Parker wasn’t exactly the prima donna of romantic wordsmithing. She suspected she would find the letter oafish, unorganized and otherwise illiterate, but that thought irritated her. Parker was anything but oafish. He didn’t exactly whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but intelligence was never his shortcoming.

You are going to love whatever he wrote because you love him. This reminder pumped her with enough courage to for her wrist to the right, push open the door and step inside.

She punched in the code on the illuminated keypad to her left. The alarm beeped twice and disarmed.

“The code to his alarm system is your birthday? He’s more whipped than I thought.”

Allison said as she closed the door.

“That’s just how I roll.” Skylar said without turning. She was on the move now, passing into the living room, then back out again, turning on lights as her feet carried her towards the kitchen, and into the dining room. On the table she found the yellow pages.

They lay face down on the table, just as she remembered.

Taking them up with her hands she went to the light switch and hooking a knuckle beneath the level flipped on the LED bulbs screwed into a crystal chandelier suspended above the mahogany table. The pads of her thumbs secured the pages in her hand as she read Parker’s words aloud.

When I was young my grandmother would take me to church and pray. She prayed so hard that tears would squeeze from her eyes and fall on her age weathered cheeks. I grew so curious I finally asked why she prayed so hard. She told me that her prayers were for me. That God would grant me happiness in this life.

I could not have read her thoughts or seen the images crafted by her imagination, but I believe that the happiness that inspired her tears, is the happiness that I found the day I met you.

For far too long I have drowned my heart in the fear that I would lose you as I lost my father. That as long as I failed to choose what my heart desired most, I would somehow escape the withered and graying future that doesn’t hold at least some part of you in it.

Only now do I realize how foolish this was, for I have hastened the birth of the nightmare I fought so long to entomb deep down in the depths of my soul.

If you will have me, I now choose you. You are my fifth element, the essential element and force in my universe. You are the inspiration for all the best parts of me. You are my compass, and my North Star. Any part of a life without you, whether long or short, is not a life that I want to live. Loving you makes me willing to step out into a cold dark world and walk in the warmth of undeserved happiness.

Allison swiped two kleenexes from the gray box on the kitchen counter top and offered one to Skylar and the other she kept for herself. “What a bunch of cheesy pizza.”

She blubbered, with water careening down her face.

Skylar clutched the pages against her heart and dabbed her eyes with the dry kleenex. “In all my life I have never read anything more precious to me than this.”

“You have to go to him Skylar.” Allison encouraged.

“But how?” She asked. “I don’t have the money for a plane ticket.”

Allison’s hand dove into Skylar’s purse and withdrew her wallet. Unzipping it she removed the American Express card from one of the slots. “Here, use this.”

“I can’t.” Habit prompted Skylar’s refusal.

“This is why he gave it to you in the first place. If there was ever a time he wanted you to use it, this would be that time.”

Skylar did not argue and accepted the offered card. She ran up to the computer room on the second level and booted up the Mac. She went to the internet, clicked on the flights, chose a second class ticket for tomorrow morning, entered the card information and printed out her boarding pass.

Retrieving the warm pages from the printer she turned to Allison and presented her with a smile that covered half her face. “Now I just need to pack.”

**** If Skylar needed to pack for an army she could do it with no problem. Her hair brush, toothbrush, tooth paste, soap, her coconut shampoo, and deodarant sat in an organized group on the bathroom counter. A second organized group, included all of her makeup. Well, maybe not all her makeup but pretty close. She had eye brushes, eye liner, foundation, powder and lipstick. It got a lot more in depth than that but these were the essentials she would need to survive in the event of a nuclear explosion somewhere in the lower forty eight.

Each of these groupings went into separate bags that she placed in one larger bag along with her shoes and socks. Belts, sweaters, jeans, and t-shirts all went into a separate bag. Two bags in total. Much more efficient than her usual packing tries.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Allison asked coming out of the bedroom. She contemplated driving back to Parker’s and taking the truck in order to carry Skylar’s typical luggage load.

“I was in a hurry. Besides if I pack light, maybe I can smooth talk Parker into taking me shopping.” A wry, foxy smile cracked her lips and she winked.

“I like the way to think.” Allison swore she saw the tiniest hint of a horned tail swishing behind her black yoga pants. “Ready to go?”

“All ready.” Skylar answered. **** Skylar had a long day of travel and not but sleep to fuel her through it. She would take off from Oakland and land in Salt Lake City, take a connecting flight to Dallas where she had a two hour layover for the flight to Pensacola. She hoped she could sleep on the plane, she thought she might need it.

Allison hugged her friend. “Be safe and don’t worry about anything. Let me handle Donnie I’ve got a good soft place to land.” Allison patted her chest.

“You are so bad.” Skylar rolled her eyes. The two women hugged one last time and Skylar had to hurry to check in her bags, She paid the bag fee with Parker’s credit card and tipped the baggage handler with cash from her own wallet.

Boarding pass in hand she entered the airport terminal, made her way through security and then started towards her gate. She pulled out her phone as she walked and sent a text message to Donnie.

“We need to talk.”

In a few minutes, just as she sat down at her chair. She received the reply. “With patients today. Can it wait.”

She replied. “Won’t be in town.”

Her phone began to ring. She checked the voicemail and that it was Donnie phoning from her cell.

“Hey there.” She said into the receiver after accepting the call.

“Hey yourself.” He returned. She could hear his smile through the phone. “I only have a second but I wanted to give you a call. You’re leaving town?”

“I’m on my way back to Alabama.” She explained.

“To see Parker?” He sounded hurt as he asked the question he already knew the answer to.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but that’s where I belong.”

“I understand.” He said with a heaving sigh. “Listen, I have to go, but you take care of yourself, ok.”

The connection severed before she had the opportunity to tell him goodbye. She hated herself for hurting him, she hadn’t intended things to go as far as they did but events spiraled out of her control.

She typed out the following text message to him. “I’m sorry, but I’m not the only fish in the sea. There is a pretty little redhead in my apartment who would love to take you up on that dinner invitation. Call her…”” She finished with the message by transmitting Allison’s name and contact information. A reply never came.

Boarding began as she switched off her phone and slipped it into her purse. She stood with boarding pass in hand while she waited for the desk crew to call for her zone.

She went on the plane carrying on her purse and a headful of thoughts. She feared her thoughts would not soften their murmurs enough for her to sleep, but her fears proved unwarranted. Settling into her seat with a pillow resting on her shoulder she closed her eyes and drifted off. There was no hollow man waiting for her in the darkness, no gun, no booze, no stench and that made her very happy.

Parker Parker sat in the cold and drizzle of dreary late afternoon. Rain came down in the form of a mist, saturating the spring-awakened leaves and muddied the ground. Bared toes sank into deep wet grass and mud pressing between his toes. A gaggle of geese flew across the gray sky, a toad croaked out a song somewhere along the bank. Beneath a log a large mouth bass flicked its tail and returned to the depths with a fresh catch of dragonfly filling its tummy. On the far side of Lake Forrest, a fisherman waded into the water carrying a fly rod in his right hand and cooler in the left. He set the cooler down in the water and began casting his line. He would bring the line way back behind his head whip it forward

pull it back and again and whip it forward a second. He repeated this motion several times over. His fly-fishing form appeared a little clumsy but that was all right, maybe he was just knocking off a little of the winter rust.

Behind him he could hear two squirrels quarreling over a nut. Chasing each other up a pine tree, running out across a limb, jumping to the limb of a nearby pine, scurrying across that limb and back down the trunk spiraling around like the spinning barber shop sign.

Parker leaned back against the bench and tossed his hand over one side, He felt empty and alone. Loneliness was the hard part. His sister came by to check on him after her shift at the hospital where she worked nights, but she didn’t stay and Parker knew why.

She couldn’t stand to see him like this. Self pity covered him as mud covers a wallowing pig. He bathed but he refused to eat because the taste of food turned to ash in his mouth.

His three week growth of beard now marched on to four. His eyes remained as vibrant as ever, but the twenty pounds he lost had hollowed out his cheekbones leaving his face sunken and distorted. Jennifer expected to find him shot to death in some corner of the house each time she stopped by and left surprised to find him still among the living.

He didn’t want to die anymore but he wished he hadn’t been born. His whole life he loved only two things and in a casualty of coincidence he lost both in the same day. Of the two he missed Skylar the most. He always knew he would not play forever, maybe thirteen or fourteen years, a long time, but not forever. Skylar, he thought, was forever.

He could almost feel her pressed against him on the bench, the steady rising and falling of her chest against him. Her legs pulled up against her chest, head resting against his chest. He seemed so real that he could almost hear her calling him. It seemed far away, too far away.

“Parker?” It sounded like an echo out of a dream. His eyes filled with tears and blurred his vision of the lake. He smoothed them away with his hand. “Parker?” The voice came to him again, closer this time.

He closed his hands around his ears wanting to push out the pounding of her voice inside of his head. “Parker.” Now he felt her hand brush against his shoulder.

Could the vision be back? He turned to look and he found her beside him. The misty rain cooled his face as he looked up at the vision standing in front of him.

Her hand reached for him but he withdrew, afraid that if he touched her she might vanish and never return.

Am I back inside, drunk again? He thought. That was impossible he hadn’t a drink in days. The liquor cabinet remained empty.

How am I seeing her? Am I dreaming? That seemed the most logical conclusion but then her hand finally caught his and as he felt her fingers tightening around him, he knew.

“Skylar?” His voice croaked, his lips dry and cracked and coated with tiny dots of crimson.

Her hands came to his face, her cold fingers pressing into the flesh at his temples.

“Parker.” She said barely above a whisper. “You look awful.”

He blinked twice. He opened his mouth to speak but failed to find the words.

Skylar just kissed him, laughed and kissed him a second time. She could no longer smell the whisky on his breath. There was only the smell of scented soap and cocoa butter lotion.

“How?” He asked his voice weakened by lack of sleep and food.

“We have plenty of time to discover the answers together.” She said, joining him on the bench. Bringing her legs to her chest she leaned against his shoulder and felt the rain

mist across her face. Her came up and her fingers explored the hairs of his chin. He reminded her of a grizzly Adams who decided to let himself go. **** With spatula in hand, Skylar flipped the pancakes on the griddle, then taking the clear bowl from the counter and retrieving the whisk from the drawer she whipped the eggs into a frothy yellow soup. She added a little milk from the refrigerator and whisked a little more, then poured the mixture into the skillet.

Jennifer came through the door and paused when she overheard the activity in the kitchen Her bloodshot eyes searched around the corner and found Skylar at the oven. She stopped, frozen in disbelief, her jaw unhinged as she stared at the young woman and tears welled up in her eyes.

Skylar began to feel the presence of another person in the room, like an unseen hand reaching across the distance of the room to massage her brain. Moving the from the frying pan back to the skillet, she turned her head while she removed the pancakes onto a separate plate for cooling. Finding Parker’s standing in the arched doorway that went from the kitchen to the living room, Skylar presented a sweet and welcoming smile.

“Parker said you might show up. Would you like some breakfast?”

Before she could prepare herself, Jennifer’s arms swirled around her, her muscles swelling so tight that it constricted airflow into her lungs.

“What is this for?” Skylar asked.

“I’m so happy to see you.” Jennifer said, the welling tears spilling over onto her cheeks.

She seemed far older than her years, Skylar observed, streaks of gray sparked her dark hair. Lines formed around the corners of her mouth, creased by years of cigarette smoking. Her perfume mixed with tobacco smoke to form a noxious combination of sweet and bitter that just didn’t mix well.

They were close in age but never close in friendship. They traveled in separate circles and connected cosmically only through their love for Parker.

Skylar could sense the tension in Jennifer’s body release and flow out of her as they embraced. “God bless you she said. Now I know he’s going to be ok.” She turned to leave her feet shuffling towards the door. “I have to go.” She said her voice tired and croaking on every syllable. “I have to be back at the hospital tonight so I need my rest. But you tell Parker that I came by and that I’ll see him soon.”

Skylar almost let the eggs burn as she watched Jennifer turn and leave, sniffing and wiping at her nose as she left.

Parker entered the kitchen moments after his sister backed out of the driveway. He wore a pair of blue jeans with no shirt or shoes. Water soaked his combed back hair and the hairs from his beard no longer hung from his chin. “Was that Jennifer?”

Skylar emptied the browning eggs onto a plate when she turned to look at him. He did that on purpose. She thought as her eyes crawled across his exposed body.

Lifting the plates from the counter she came to him. Rising on her tip-toes she kissed him on the cheek and put the plates on the counter. On the return trip she allowed her fingers to guide along his chest. “Would you mind putting a shirt on?” She asked him.

“That’s very distracting.”

Parker smiled, satisfied with her response. He left and returned a few moments later after donning a white t-shirt. It was a size too small and clung to his shoulders and even his abdominal muscles peaked through the fabric if he turned the right way.

That isn’t much better. She thought, eyeing him again as he came around the corner and joined her at the table.

He pulled back a chair and slid in beside her. He looked up and saw Skylar staring at him. “What?” He asked his smile broadening.

“Nothing really.” She asked her smile matching his. Her hand slid across the table and found Parker’s. “I’m really glad I’m here.”

His smile faded and his eyes turned to the meal she prepared for him. For a time, she wondered if he felt the same way. Silence passed between them for a time, while Parker assembled his thoughts in his mind. When he spoke again, words came out slow, each one calculated and weighed in his mind before his tongue produced them for her ears.

“I feared you would never come.” He began. “I thought my life was over, like there was no reason to go on. If you had not come back…” His voice trailed off and then he asked, “Why did you come back?” His eyes widened with curiosity.

Skylar gave his hand a squeeze and rose from her chair. She went to the counter and fished a folded sheet of yellow paper. She returned with it in her hand to the table. The paper crackled as she unfolded it.

“I found this.” She said, sliding it across the table to him beneath the palm of her hand.

Parker looked at the paper and the familiar handwriting scrawled across it. “I wrote this.” He said and lifted the sheet so his eyes could read the lines it contained.

“I know you did.” Skylar punctuated the thought with an approving nod.

“How did you know about this?”

Skylar took a bite of her breakfast and formulated the thought as she chewed on the mouthful of scrambled egg. “I don’t know.” She told him and her fork stabbed another bite of egg. “You told me somehow.”

“You wanted to read it.” Parker remembered the conversation. Him sitting there with his gun in hand, needing only the slightest spark of inspiration to put the nozzle to his temple, squeeze the trigger and plunge into dark with the snap of his index finger across the trigger. “I saw you and you said you wanted to read it.”

“You should have read it to me a long time ago.” Skylar told him between bites.

“I wanted to. I came to see you but there was some guy.” His mouth growled the word guy like he wanted to rip the smaller man to pieces with his bare hands. “I could see you liked him and I thought you had moved on.”

“I wanted to.” She admitted, her hand leaping to his again. “I have wanted to for so long but you always managed to suck me back in.” Her smile broke the tension and the little giggle that escaped her throat retrieved his own smile from someplace deep inside.

“Have I sucked you back in again.”

Her right index finger jabbed at the yellow sheet of paper on the table. “If this is how you truly feel,” Her finger tapped the page twice. “Then I’m yours as long as it takes.”

“Takes for what?” He said his head dripping to the right. He had the look of a puzzled puppy.

“For as long as it takes for me to ensnare you in my claws, once and for all.” Her hands came up and bent at the knuckles. She bared her teeth and growled at him.

Parker raised his right hand and his fingers interlocked with hers. “That won’t take long at all.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand. “I’m already there.”

Now she leaned towards him and gazing up into his eyes she asked, “So what’s next?” **** Before Parker rose to speak, Skylar gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. She mouthed I love you as he left the row of benches and walked with a stride that hid his sadness and the difficulty he bore at every step.

At the front of the church he reached out to touch the mahogany casket with his right hand and said in a voice that he and God could hear he said, “Going to miss you coach.”

He continued on up to the podium and laying out his prepared speech he smudged away the tears rolling down his cheeks and stared out at the filled congregation come to pay their final respects to the Coach they all loved so much.

To Parker’s right sat a group of former teammates and some former players he knew but did not have the privilege of playing with. Not all of the former could make the trip, some had other obligations to their NFL teams. Parker understood those obligations as much as any man in attendance but he no longer had an NFL team to obligate him.

Gripping the podium he swayed his weight from his left side to his right, cleared his throat and began to speak.

Coach Ruff taught me more than how to play the game of football. He is one of the greatest coaches to ever teach this game to young men, but you can’t measure Coach Ruff’s words in wins and losses. You measure him by the lives he touched, the lives he changed forever. When I first sat down with Coach Ruff as an eighteen year old gunslinger, I remember him promising me exactly this much.

His hand rose to form a “zero” out of his fingers then allowed his hand to fall again to his side and it dove back in his pocket like a frightened rabbit.

He told me that I wouldn’t start right away. He didn’t promise me playing time or a trip to New York five years later to become the very first pick in the NFL draft. What he did promise me was far more important and ultimately the reason I came to Alabama. He promised that if I dedicated myself, worked hard and showed determination in the football field and in the classroom, then he would teach me how to become the man I wanted to be.

The true measure of a man is not in his accomplishments or the size of his bank account, its in the influence he passes on to the lives he touches. He taught me how to pass a football, but he also taught me to know what is important and I wasn’t the only one to learn this lesson.

I’m looking at my fellow teammates and alumni and I see them sitting with their families today. That is the ultimate legacy of Coach Ruff. Through the game of football he taught us about love. How to love ourselves, how to love one another and most importantly how to love our families.

We will miss him and we will never forget him.

Epilogue Four years later…

The sign above the door read: Skylar Abbey Attorney at Law. An elderly woman in her sixties manned the front desk, assembling her bosses’ appointment for the following day.

Down a small narrow hallway and a ninety degree turn to the right sat a blonde haired woman behind a large desk. She wore a pair of black rimmed glasses and held her office phone to her ear. As she talked she playfully rubbed the bulging baby bump three months in the making.

“I don’t care, Kyle.” She said into the phone. “My client will not accept less than three million a year for at least six years. He wants to be a Carolina Panther for the rest of his career.”

There was a break in her side of the conversation as she listened to the response.

“The money doesn’t have to be guaranteed for the final half of the contract. Front weight if you have to.” Another pause.

“Send the paperwork over to me and let me look it over.” She smiled. “You too sweetie, take care.”

The receiver went back down to the cradle.

She completed her notes in her client’s journal and filed it away. She sighed and rubbed her hands together. There was only one picture on her desk. A silver framed portrait of her and Parker on their wedding day. They stood staring into each other’s eyes all alone in the world in that moment. A two carat diamond ring rested on her finger as a memento from that happy two years removed. Soon pictures of the baby growing in her womb would join that portrait. Perhaps she would return it to their home on the lake and exchange it for a family portrait of the three of them together at the park.

“You need to hurry up and grow so mommy can hold you.” She said to the small mound.

“Mrs. Abbey you have a phone call on line three.”

“Thank you Mrs. Helen.”

Skylar punched the flashing line and answered. “Skylar Abbey.”

“No matter how many times I hear that I don’t think I will ever get used to it.” Allison Monroe said on the other end of the line.

“Hey Allie.” Skylar said. “How goes things?”

“I’m calling because I have some news.”

Skylar smiled. She thought she knew what Allison was about to tell her. “What is it?”

“I’m getting married!” She said and screamed. “Ah!” “Donnie finally popped the question? I didn’t think he would ever do it.”

“I didn’t have to wait as long as you had to for Parker.”

“Yeah, true, but it was worth every minute of it.”

“When can you come to Oakland to see me?”

“I’m not sure.” She said. “Parker has the new season coming up. He’ll be pretty busy for a while. He thinks he has a pretty good team this year. He thinks they might go all the way to state.”

“That’s exciting.” Allison said but didn’t care half that much. “You tell I said hi and give him a kiss from me.”

“I will do that.” Skylar promised. “Give Donnie my love too, and I promise we will see you before Christmas. Ok?”

The phone call ended when the receiver went back down to the cradle. Rising and gathering her purse and bag, she went out of the office.

Climbing behind the seat of her SUV she fired the engine and pulled out of her parking spot. She drove down main street, singing along and dancing to Beyonce as she guided her car through traffic. She found the lights from the stadium peeking through the pines. She drive into the parking lot, stopped the engine and slid out of the car. One of the other coaches’ wives pulled up alongside and the two women exchanged hugs. They met one another two years earlier when Parker first accepted the job as head coach for the Forrest Hill Cavaliers football team.

Allison volunteered to teach the cheerleading squad and spent her few off hours drawing up choreography for the girls to perform before each game. She watched from the sidelines while the seventeen and eighteen year olds danced and boogied to overtly loud music blaring down from the speaker system. As she saw a mistake she noted it in her journal, then greeted the girls as they came off the field. Breathing hard they hung on their coaches’ every word.

“Not as sharp as I would like to see it, but not too bad for a first performance. Come Monday ready to see your mistakes and I will point them out to you. I’ll expect more next week.”

She left them on the sidelines and went to the locker room. She waited outside for Parker as she listened to his fiery pregame speech. He could peel paint from walls when he got going.

“Let’s go chomp on some Gator ass!” Parker said and followed his players as they charged out of the locker room. He stopped at his bride’s side leaned down and hugged her.

“Knock ‘em dead.”

He gave her a knowing wink. “We’ll do our best.”

She rose from the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “See you after the game.”

He rubbed her belly and kissed it. “You bet.”

Skylar remained in the tunnel at the north end zone as the team took the field. After the start of the first quarter she meandered over to the home side stands found her usual seat in front of her girls and watched them go through their cheers.

Her hands instinctively went to her belly and she knew she was happy.

She never clerked for a Supreme Court justice or and federal judge. She never moved into a corner office on Park Avenue and had no hopes of ever running for District Attorney. Despite the collapse of so many dreams, she knew where she belonged. She no longer stared into the distant future and wondered what would become of her. Her thoughts now centered on the girls she taught, the man she loved and the family she would create. So what would happen next? She no longer cared to know.