Tender Mercies Page 12

  “Tomorrow...?”

  “Yes, Coop. It’s all in the contract. Give it a read and you’ll see.” Coach slapped the desk, signaling a sudden end to the discussion. “I think we’ve chewed over this enough. It’s time to move on. Look on the bright side. Seattle’s a nice town...if you can overlook the rain. And playing there will guarantee you won’t have to ride the bench. And the pay’s not bad, either. With endorsements, you should be able to continue the lifestyle you’ve become accustomed to.” He twined his fingers over the mound of his belly and leveled Cooper a challenging look. “You could have done a lot worse.”

  A lot worse? They were selling him out...trading him to Seattle...clear across the country from Knoxville. He was no longer a Jaguar, no longer part of the team he loved, starting tomorrow...

  The room swam. His vision went dark for a moment before he reigned in his rage at being tossed aside like yesterday’s old newspaper. The years he’d given...years of hard work and sweat. Not to mention the all the sacrifices. It had meant more to him than just the money. And this was all he had to show for it? He looked at Stan, his insides churning like someone had stoked a bonfire in his belly. “I need some time to think.”

  “You don’t have time, Cooper.” Stan tapped a pen on the desktop and pointed to the contract that had been drawn up—a thick stack of pages bound tightly together. It would take hours to read through all the mind-numbing legalese.

  “I’m not signing that until I give it a thorough read—and maybe not even then.”

  “You don’t have to read it—I already have, and it’s good.” Stan’s eyes narrowed. “Trust me, Cooper. We need to sign—now. There’s no more time.”

  He’s already read it? Then he must have known for a while this was coming down the pike. Trust him?

  Chair legs scraped the marred tile floor as Cooper stood to face them all. He tossed his wadded gum wrapper on the desk and grabbed the contract. “Make time, Stan, because I’m not signing anything right now—maybe not at all.”

  ****

  Lexi heard the front door open and waited for the slam followed by the rattling of the front windows she’d become accustomed to when Andy kicked it closed with his foot. But no slam came, no rattling, nothing but the sharp click of the metal latch.

  “Hey.” He wandered onto the back deck and slipped into the chair beside her. Max moved over to prop his head on a knee in anticipation of a good ear-scratching. Andy didn’t disappoint, and the mutt’s tail thumped the deck wildly. “The rain’s cleared up—finally. It’s been raging for two whole days now. I thought it would never stop.”

  “Me, too.” His observation reminded her it had been two days since Cooper left—two long days. How many times had she picked up her cell phone, tapped in his number then changed her mind just as she hit the send button?

  “We’re gonna have to mow again soon. Rain’s made the grass look like a miniature jungle. Another day or two and Max might get lost in it.”

  “Don’t worry about it now.” She remembered how Cooper had surprised her the day he’d shown up to mow, and the way they’d shared a meal of tacos and some good conversation, just like they had...before.

  She made her mind go blank as she sipped iced tea. The scent of lilies blooming along the fence sweetened the air and oppressive humidity lifted to make way for a cool breeze. Andy stretched his legs beside her, and she noticed the growing gap between the hem of his jeans and his scuffed tennis shoes. He was in the throes of a growth spurt, and he’d need new clothes soon. Dollar signs danced before her weary eyes. “How was your last day of school?”

  “OK...fine.” He handed her his grade card. “Guess you’ll be asking for this. Might as well hand it over now.”

  Her heart sank. The last few weeks had been so busy planning Thursday’s Child’s summer programs and helping with the football camp and signing that she hadn’t had as much time to help him with his schoolwork. Now guilt from the neglect nudged her. “Oh, Andy, is it...?”

  “Bad?” His eyes twinkled with mischief. He shrugged. “I dunno. See for yourself.”

  She pulled the card from its folder to study it. “Wow, Andy, it’s...”

  “Pretty good, huh?” He sat just a little bit taller in the chair. “I can do it by myself now, Aunt Lexi. You don’t need to babysit me at the kitchen table anymore.”

  “You made the honor roll.”

  “I know. Mr. Grinstead said my name’s gonna be in the newspaper when they print the semester honor roll and it won’t say ‘most wanted’ underneath, either.” He laughed at the joke.

  She laughed, too, and the emptiness that had plagued her the past few days lifted a bit. She threw her arms around him and hugged hard. He didn’t pull back...that was progress. “Oh, I’m so proud of you.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed and pressed the toe of his tennis shoe into the crack between two drying slats of wood. “I wish Cooper was here to see it, too. Has he called yet?”

  “No.” Lexi sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, as the emptiness took hold once again. “I know you’d like him to see your grade card. I’m sorry he’s not here.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Oh, but it is.

  “He promised to help me with my football moves.” Andy’s voice cracked with disappointment. “Now I’ll never make the team.”

  Lexi patted his knee. “You will, Andy. You can do it. You might have to work a little harder and figure more out on your own, but you can do it. I believe in you.”

  “Well...you’re the only one.”

  “No. Cooper believes in you, too.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, right. But he’s not here, so what does it matter?”

  “It still matters, Andy. And you’ll win the coach over, too, when he sees how hard you work. You’ll see.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you think I can go for a haircut again? Practice starts tomorrow, and it’s getting kind of shaggy.”

  “So you want to get scalped again?” Lexi smiled. “Sure. We can go right now, and then I’ll take you to dinner. Tomorrow’s a big day at the center. We might not have time to squeeze a haircut in.”

  “Can we go to Little Italian Kitchen? I love that place. The garlic knots slathered in marinara sauce are so good.”

  “You bet. Let me just grab my purse.”

  As she stood, Max did a slow circle about her feet, sniffing for crumbs from the turkey sandwich she’d nibbled earlier. She stepped over him and carried Andy’s report card into the kitchen.

  Andy followed her. His tennis shoes slapped the tile floor she’d spent half an hour scrubbing that afternoon. The mindless work had eased her jangled nerves.

  “What are you doing?” He watched her peel a magnet from the refrigerator door.

  “Putting this in a place of honor.” She grinned as she hung the card beside the photo Cooper had snapped of them while their faces were smudged with white paint from their work on the porch.

  He smiled. “That looks good. Thanks.”

  “We’ll get a few copies of the newspaper, too, when it comes out. We can mail one to your mom.”

  “What about Cooper?”

  Lexi’s voice caught. “I-I guess we can mail a copy to him, too.”

  ****

  Cooper tossed the contract onto the coffee table and stood to pace the room. His footsteps echoed off the walls, reminding him just how alone he was in this sprawling Jacksonville house. He fumbled for the remote and switched on the TV that boasted surround-sound, just to have some background noise for company.

  He wondered what Lexi was doing. A quick glance at his watch told him the summer programs at the center were in full swing. He dug in his pocket for his cell phone, punched in her number, but paused just before hitting the send button.

  What should I say?

  The question had plagued him for days now.

  Once the shock and anger faded, disappointment and remorse took up residence in the empty crevices of his wounded heart. Lexi di
dn’t trust him...hadn’t believed he’d loved her enough to share her most intimate secret.

  So she’d borne the pain and devastation of losing a child—their child...Luke—alone. What must it have been like, to feel life growing inside her one day and then nothing but emptiness the next?

  He guessed he knew a little of the feeling, because his heart broke now for the loss...for all the what-ifs and might-have-beens. He replayed her words over and over in his mind. What would he have done if he had known about Luke? How would he have handled things?

  I’ll never know now.

  What kind of man was he, to make Lexi feel the way she did, to keep her from trusting him after all the time they spent together, after all they’d shared? The realization of his short-comings was like a stab to his very core.

  He stared through the wall of glass that ran the length of his living room, to the shimmering water of an expansive kidney-shaped pool beyond. How many parties had he hosted along that pool deck? How many nights had he watched his teammates, his friends, party through the night, straight into dawn and still he felt alone, despite the crowd, because Lexi was missing...tucked safely back in Knoxville and going about her life without him? He’d lost count a long time ago.

  Oh, the tabloids would have people think he led a life filled with women and excitement around every bend in the road. And he had...at the beginning. It was a heady feeling to walk out of the locker room following a game, win or lose—it didn’t matter—and have pretty women falling over themselves for a chance to get close to him.

  And he’d let a few, in the beginning. But each time left him feeling emptier than the time before, and the excitement faded just as quickly as it had come. Now the memories only sickened him. None of the women, no matter how appealing on the outside, held a candle to Lexi. She knew him like no one else ever had—before or since. She was beautiful from the inside out, and she’d loved him before he became...all of this.

  He remembered the first time he told her he loved her. He’d had his driver’s license for a year, and had saved enough money bagging groceries at the local Kroger to buy a battered pick-up truck that he and his dad spent hours restoring.

  Lexi had been the first one he took for a drive in it. They’d gone down to the river and parked beneath the shade of a giant oak. While the patter of a summer rainstorm drummed over the roof and splashed the windshield, they listened to the soft hum of music from the stereo his dad had helped him install just that morning.

  She was dressed in a soft cotton sundress with peach-colored flowers that brought out the rich brown of her eyes, and coral-painted toes peeked between the straps of pretty sandals on her feet.

  The light fragrance of vanilla lotion on her skin mingled with the scent of his cherry-flavored gum, and humidity from the afternoon rain steamed the windows and warmed the cabin of the truck.

  “I like the rain,” she’d murmured.

  “Yes.” It was the only syllable he could force from his throat. His heart raced so fast he wondered if she could feel it shaking him—shaking the truck.

  He took her hand and held it, so soft and delicate in his. When she tipped her head and met his gaze, he saw the longing there, a mirror of his own desire. He leaned in, and her breath was warm on his cheek. Her free hand searched and twined along the hair at the nape of his neck while his lips found hers. The scent of her made him dizzy with longing, and he nearly lost himself to the need.

  She sighed beneath his touch, and he knew they’d tumbled into something new, something equally wonderful and dangerous. A fierce need to protect, to treasure, rose up to mingle with the longing. After all the time they’d spent together, all they’d shared, the words came as easy as breathing. “I love you, Lexi.”

  She’d trembled against him and her breath caressed his ear. “Oh, Cooper, I love you, too.”

  Cooper remembered how her chocolate eyes grew round and huge with trust. Yet, in the end, he’d betrayed her. Oh, the kiss had long-since passed when he moved to Jacksonville, and they were no longer dating, no longer engaged. They barely spoke and even that fizzled with time. Even so, his actions over the years felt like a betrayal—to him, at least.

  The massive house he bought, with the architecturally-designed pool and a media room boasting theater seating and a hi-def TV that covered an entire wall brought a small thrill, but even that faded as quickly as a suntan in the dead of winter. He found the house echoed eerily as he puttered through it, and no amount of furnishings and high-tech gadgets filled the emptiness.

  He began calling his dad more often, and their evenings became filled with long conversations about nothing...and everything. From time to time Dad asked if he’d spoken to Lexi lately, and he became an expert at dodging the question, changing the subject.

  He couldn’t talk to her. What was there to say?

  One night while he was packing for a road trip he’d found the Bible he stuffed into the dresser beneath a tangled pile of athletic socks and T-shirts. He dusted it off and settled in the quiet of his media room. When he opened the Bible, the verse he turned to was like a punch to his gut, the wake-up call he needed. He read the words twice, three times.

  The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. Psalm 16:6

  The words shamed him. Where were his boundary lines? What had happened to the strong convictions—the honor—he’d lived by all the years he and Lexi had shared such a sweet friendship...then a deep love?

  He’d allowed the desire for money and fame to consume him, and the boundary lines had eroded. Oh, he’d made a million excuses over the years...he’d worked hard to get this far, to earn the money that was thrown at him like confetti at a parade...he deserved a little recognition...Lexi was living her life without him, and he owed it to himself to go on...what was one more drink, one more woman, one more late night on the town? He still gave the crowd their money’s worth on Sunday afternoon, didn’t he?

  They’d been a long string of lies to soothe the ache in his heart that would not seem to ease. It left no room for the truth—truth that he’d become a man who dishonored the faith and beliefs he’d once lived so strongly by.

  He’d spent that long-ago night reading passages, held the Bible close to his heart like an old friend. In the morning, the dawn awakened with an explosion of color more brilliant than he’d ever seen.

  When he took the field for practice that day, the game held new meaning. Over the course of the next few seasons, he became a leader who was admired and respected—not for his elaborate parties and expensive possessions, but for his dedication to his teammates and to the sport.

  His game improved, and endorsement offers flowed like water from a fall. He was comfortable in front of the camera, and he thought maybe it was time to put some of his money to good use. He began researching charities, pitched a few ideas to his dad, who helped him sort through all the possibilities.

  Then he got blindsided during the playoffs. Long nights filled with nagging pain followed a complicated surgery, and his only relief came from colorful pills in a little amber bottle. The temptation was too great to deny, and when the boundaries began to blur once again, he knew where he needed to go.

  Home. To Knoxville...to Lexi.

  But going home had only shown him just how far he had yet to go to become the man God meant for him to be. When Lexi needed him, he’d responded with temper and impatience. When she shared her deepest hurt, he’d fired accusing words, turned and fled...just as he’d done before.

  I left her alone to grieve...again.

  14

  “Lexi, we’re bursting at the seams with kids.” Renee took a healthy bite of her roast beef sandwich, and juice from a ripe tomato dribbled down her chin. She dabbed with a wadded napkin, then chewed and swallowed before continuing. “It’s amazing, truly. We’re going to have to hire an additional counselor, maybe even two.”

  “How will we manage that?” Lexi’s stomach twisted into an uneasy kno
t. She stood to pace the office floor. “We already hired one extra counselor, and we don’t have the money for another. Our budget is tapped, as it is. You know that better than anyone, Renee.”

  She shrugged, stuffed another bite of sandwich into her mouth. “We’ll just have to find a way. You know, we promised ourselves when we started things here that the safety of the kids would always come first.”

  “You’re right.” Lexi splayed a hand across her belly to ease the rumbling. “Grab a pad of paper and a pencil. Let’s brainstorm again.”

  “Not before you eat something.” Renee pressed half her sandwich into Lexi’s hands. “You can’t go on like this—skipping meals. It’s wearing you down.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’m...”

  “Look, it’s been nearly a week. Maybe you should call Cooper, just to check on him.”

  “I can’t. If he wants to talk, he’ll call me. He needs space, Renee. I have to give it to him.”

  “You’re both as hard-headed as the other.” Renee shook her head and backed away when Lexi tried to return the sandwich. “What else is going on in that stubborn little head of yours, Lex? Tell me.”

  Lexi gazed out the window to watch a group of kids work in the garden Cooper had tilled for them. Colorful vegetables exploded along the ground and crawled up stakes that were tucked carefully into the soil. Sunflowers soared skyward, heavy with seeds, and already the pumpkins were beginning to turn from deep-green to light orange. A few of the girls had fashioned a scarecrow out of an old flannel shirt and patched blue jeans, complete with a baseball cap and tennis shoes stuffed with straw, and he stood sentinel over the wild array of colors. Lexi remembered the bareness of the ground before Cooper came to till it, and she worried if Thursday’s Child was forced to close the garden might meet the same depressing fate as that of her family’s following her mom’s death.

  The thought saddened her to the core.

  “Lex?” Renee nudged her shoulder gently. “Are you in there?”