Between Sundays (20 page)

When Megan was gone and the door to his room was closed, he crept off his bottom bunk and turned on the flashlight by his bed. ’Cause the main light might shine through the door and Megan would know he was up. He moved really quiet and aimed the flashlight under his bed toward his box of special things. Then he pulled it out and shone the light straight inside.

There had to be a clue, right? When he read mystery books, there was always a clue. And since Megan didn’t believe him and even Aaron didn’t believe him, he had to find something. He pointed the light at one of the envelopes with Aaron’s name on it. What would be the best thing, the best way to prove he was telling the truth? He bit hard on his lip and thought for a minute. A picture, of course. A photo of his mom and Aaron together. But he only had a handful of pictures and they were of him or his mom and him. That’s all.

He sifted around and found the envelope marked with only the word “PRIVATE.” His fingers felt it on the top and the bottom, and then he picked it up. It was lumpier than the other envelopes, so it might have something other than a letter inside. Something that might be a clue.

All this time Cory always figured this letter was for Aaron too. But it didn’t say Aaron’s name, actually. Private didn’t mean only Aaron could open it. His heart jumped around a little more than before. Private only meant his mom didn’t want lots of people passing it around and making it public. Yeah, that’s right. Because in English they studied opposites and public was the opposite of private. So if he didn’t make whatever was in the envelope public, he would still be obeying his mom’s wishes.

Cory held his breath and suddenly he was convinced. He blew the air out of his lungs and ripped a small rip down the side of the envelope, which wasn’t easy since he had the flashlight in one hand. Carefully he shook the envelope and out came just one thing. A picture. Cory’s heart beat like a loud drum and he could hardly hear himself think. He picked up the photo with his left hand and aimed the light at it with the other. He did a long gasp, so long he had to press his lips together so Megan wouldn’t hear him in the next room. This was the clue he’d been looking for, a clue he would save for just the right moment.

The picture was of a teenage girl and a guy in sort of a slow dance kind of pose. They were dressed in nice clothes next to some flowers, and beneath it in gold letters were the words, “Prom, 1995.” And the people in the picture were his mom and a guy who looked almost the same all these years later. A guy who matched with the newspaper clippings in his special box, and so Cory had no doubts at all.

The guy was Aaron Hill.

D
errick took his seat on the private jet preparing to fly the 49ers home to San Francisco, and he hung his head. He was as dazed as the rest of the guys, trying to fathom how they’d lost two straight road games to mediocre teams. He clenched his jaw and willed himself back in time, back to that first Monday night when they had one win and unlimited potential.

He leaned his head against the cool window. What had gone wrong? How could they be 1–2 now, with the season in a tailspin just three weeks in? Derrick had no answers for himself, no more answers than Coach Cameron had for the media. But one thing was certain. Derrick had underestimated how it would feel standing on the sidelines, helpless to make a difference. The competitor inside him knew without a doubt he could’ve won those games. Instead, he and Jay Ryder had been forced to watch while Aaron and the rest of the team imploded.

Aaron was trudging up the aisle, one of the last on the plane, his expression set. Derrick lifted his head and watched his teammate, studying him. Aaron had been open and genuine at the dinner Denae cooked after practice a month ago. Derrick felt certain God was going to use the season to build a bond between them, to give Derrick the chance to mentor Aaron, if not on the field, then certainly off it. But since then, Aaron had been distant with everyone on the team—even Derrick.

The empty window seats were gone by the time Aaron reached Derrick’s row. He said nothing, but he stopped and tossed his bag into the overhead bin. Then he took the aisle seat, leaving one between them. He buckled his belt, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back.

People could sit wherever they wanted on the flight home. The fact that Aaron chose to sit by him was a sign; it had to be. No matter how he acted or how little he said, Aaron needed advice, strength. Derrick looked out the window at the ground crew, busy tossing bags into the belly of the plane.
Okay, God…things don’t look too good. But Aaron’s here.
He felt a ray of hope.
Give me the words. Please, God…it’s third and long. I’m counting on You.

Derrick waited until the plane was in the air, and by then it looked like Aaron was asleep. A few minutes into the flight they hit sharp turbulence, and Aaron blinked his eyes open. He pulled a magazine from the seat in front of him and flipped through it. Derrick watched him, and he could feel God with him, feel His Holy Spirit giving him the words and tone and timing to finally say something to his teammate that might really matter.

“Lookin’ for the answers?” Derrick stared at Aaron, his voice not quite teasing.

Aaron looked slightly confused at first, but then he shifted his attention from Derrick back to the magazine. With an exaggerated breath, he closed the magazine and slipped it back in the seat pocket. “I’m beginning to wonder.” He mumbled the words, and he avoided looking at Derrick again.

“Beginning to wonder what?”

“If there are any answers.”

Derrick had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the losses. “My daddy once told me you can’t play football with a head full a’ trouble. You gotta pick your battles and play ’em out one at a time.” Derrick kept his words slow and easy. “Daddy was a wise man.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated for a few seconds, then he turned his eyes to Derrick. “The woman at the youth center, remember her?”

“Megan, right?”

“Right.” Aaron’s heavy heart left fine lines around his eyes and mouth. “I’m falling for her, man. In a big way.”

Derrick let that sink in, and nodded slowly. “I can see that. Guy finds a great girl and all of a sudden he walks around the locker room frowning and slouching and making a beeline for the showers.” The sarcasm helped keep the moment light. “Makes good sense.”

“It’s not her.” He gazed into nothingness. “She thinks I’m someone else.”

“Hmmm.” Derrick tapped his knee. “You mean like Jay Ryder? ’Cause if she thinks you’re Jay Ryder, girl needs glasses. Jay’s a black man, Hill, and that ain’t right if you’re out there all walking around and stuff, letting her think she’s got a chance with a guy like Jay Ryder.”

Aaron didn’t want to laugh, that much was obvious. But he could only pinch his lips together for a few seconds before a low chuckle slipped. He shook his head. “I’m serious, man.” He took a long breath and his half smile faded. “She thinks I’m a gentleman. But until I met her, I wasn’t even close. And that’s what’s not right. It’s like…” He stared at the controls above their seats and adjusted the airflow. “It’s like I have to fix the broken parts of me before I can move forward with her. You know?”

“Truth is, I usually charge for this kind of thing, but”—Derrick leaned against the window—“I happen to have a little time on my hands. How much broken are we talking about?”

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair. “A lot of broken.” He closed his eyes for half a minute, and when he opened them his expression grew distant. “Her name was Amy, first girl I ever loved. Only girl until…well, until recently.”

The story started slowly, sputtering from one detail to another in a way that wasn’t chronological or compelling. But what Derrick learned from it was enough to give him the widest window yet into Aaron Hill’s soul. His teammate talked about Amy and her pregnancy and how his agent had steered him away from her.

The sum of it was similar to what Aaron had talked about that night after dinner. The fact that he’d been with more women than he could remember. Always under dark and shady circumstances, always with a different blonde or brunette whose name he would forget a day later.

“Not to be rude”—Derrick raised one eyebrow—“but that’s a lot of risk.” He whistled low. “You ever get yourself checked?”

“Lots of times.” Aaron sighed. “I’m careful. I learned how to play the game early on.”

“Rules change all the time in that game.” He looked at Aaron significantly, with a dramatic shake of his head. “People losing every which way every time you turn around. I mean, all those touchdowns you’ve thrown, that’s one thing. But if you’re still passing your blood tests, I’d say you’re luckier than most people think.” He made a wry face. “Seriously, man.”

“Anyway…” Aaron was quick to move past the gritty details. “I’m finished with that. Just thinking about the things I’ve done…it makes me sick. I feel empty and terrible.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “Like my insides are filled with rotten potatoes.”

Derrick made a face. “No wonder you head for the showers so fast.”

“Exactly.” Aaron wasn’t laughing. “It’s affecting my game. I can feel it.”

Suddenly Derrick knew it was time. “Remember I told you…maybe this is the year you’ll figure it out?”

“Yeah.” Aaron stared at him. “You’re right. I’m figuring it out, but the truth’s only making me feel worse, so now what?”

“That, my friend, is the right question.” Derrick’s smile was genuine, the teasing from earlier entirely gone. “Everyone has a load of garbage from their past.” He touched his fingertips to the place above his heart. “Sits in here, twisting and hurting and stinking up a man’s life until nothing’s right.”

Aaron was gripped. He didn’t blink or breathe, even.

“Here’s the secret.” He pointed at Aaron. “Only God can take the garbage out, man. Only God.”

Tears shone in Aaron’s eyes, and he blinked, steadying himself. “I know all about God.” A sad laugh sounded low in Aaron’s throat. “Believe me, God doesn’t owe me any favors. So how am I supposed to get Him to take away the garbage?”

“That’s easy.” Derrick’s gaze was intent, and he prayed silently his words would pierce the fog of guilt and confusion surrounding his friend. Then he smiled. “You ask Him.” He tossed his hands. “That’s it, Hill. You take yourself to a quiet place where you can think and you tell Him about all your garbage. Then you ask Him to get rid of it. And when it’s gone, you ask Him to fill in all the empty, cleaned out places.”

A nervousness came into Aaron’s eyes. “But that’s like, I don’t know, talking to God. You have to know what you’re doing for that.”

“You don’t have to know nothing at all.” Derrick rested his forearm on the seat in front of him. His tone was lighter now, because he could sense Aaron pulling away. “Know why?”

Aaron looked at him.

“Because it isn’t about how good you are, Hill. You and me, we’d fail that test first thing.” He smiled, as if this next part was a secret. “It’s about how good
God
is. And when you figure that out, everything else will line up the way it’s supposed to.”

They were quiet for a while, and Aaron asked a few questions about the short patterns, the ones that were giving him fits so far this season. After that, Aaron closed his eyes and in a little while he was sleeping. Derrick stared out the window and realized how drained he felt. He wanted, this season more than any other in all his life, wanted to win and keep winning.

But after tonight, something else would drive him to push harder, sending him early to practice on a knee that burned with every step, encouraging him to be a positive voice for his teammates even when everyone else was down. Because there was something he wanted even more than a Super Bowl ring this season, and that…that thing was suddenly very possible.

He wanted Aaron Hill to find healing in Christ.

M
egan took her spot in the bleachers and pulled her wool coat tight around her shoulders. Across the park, four games were getting started under a thick layer of clouds, and Megan felt the chill to her core. The temperatures that day would reach the seventies—typical for September—but Cory’s ten-thirty soccer games felt colder every week.

Cory was warming up with his team, looking every minute or so toward the parking lot. This was the game Aaron had said he could attend, and Megan expected he’d show up, which was bound to be awkward. She looked out across the field, but all she could see was the article in the
Chronicle
, the one that hit Monday, just a few days after their last night at the pier.

Between her paper route and her shift at the diner that day, she read the sports section. Partly because she wanted to know what Aaron was doing, how he was doing. But also because she wanted proof that he was who he seemed to be when they were together. And until last Monday, she was becoming convinced. Maybe the rumors about him before were only that. Maybe he hadn’t been the sort of playboy the press hinted at all the years he’d been in the NFL.

But last Monday, buried in a compilation of sports briefs, was Aaron’s name, and it caught her attention. The story was just a few lines, but it was under a small headline that read, “Playboy Aaron Hill Has His Eyes on the Stars.” Megan didn’t want to move beyond the headline, didn’t want her image of Aaron shattered. But she had no choice. She slid the newspaper closer and consumed the next few lines. Basically, the story said various A-list actresses had inquired about Aaron, and that Aaron was very interested in one of them. His agent was putting together plans for a first meeting. Details, the story promised, would be pending.

Megan had sat down, unable to draw a full breath as the news hit her. She read the story again, and a third time. He was interested in an A-list actress? So the whole time he’d been acting interested in her at the pier, he’d only been waiting for a call from the actress? She folded the paper and pushed it to the other side of the table. She’d been a fool for letting herself fall for him in the first place.

He called her on Wednesday, but she let it go to her answering machine. She had nothing to say to him, not if he was only playing her the whole time. She and Cory would be just fine without him in their lives; in fact, they’d be better. Safer. Megan turned slightly to ward off the wind. Cory wouldn’t talk about his reasons, but he was more insistent than ever that Aaron was his father. Of course he would feel that way. Their two Friday nights at Pier 39 had made even Megan feel like they were a family. What was an eight-year-old boy supposed to make of the situation?

Monday’s article stayed with Megan all week, convincing her that the next time she saw Aaron, she would have no choice but to break things off. He called again yesterday, but she didn’t pick up. She couldn’t. For Cory’s sake, and for her own. No matter how attracted he was or how he seemed to feel about her, his people were busy connecting him with some actress. Which was a better fit for Aaron, anyway. Still, he didn’t have to lead her on, not her or Cory.

Now she would protect the two of them from getting more involved. She lifted her eyes to the clouds overhead.
God, this won’t be easy. You’ve always given me strength whenever I need it.
She breathed in slowly through her nose.
Well, I need it more than ever.

Daughter, I am here…I will never leave you or forsake you.

The verse that breezed through Megan’s soul was one of her favorites. It was the Scripture that convinced her she could be single forever, if that’s what God had for her. Because even single she was never alone, not for a minute or an hour. Not even in the darkest times. God was with her. He would never leave her or forsake her.

Peace came over her, and the chill in her bones eased. A pickup truck like Aaron’s pulled into the parking lot, and a man with Aaron’s build climbed out. As he walked across the far field, Megan had no doubts. He’d come to the game, just like he promised, and he was looking for them, trying to figure out which field Cory was playing on.

She stood and waved, and he spotted her immediately. He broke into an easy jog as Megan sat back on the bleacher. She shifted her attention to Cory, and sure enough, the boy had spotted Aaron, probably at the same time Megan did. He was waving and jumping, his whole face taken up by his smile. He even took a few running steps toward Aaron, before he seemed to realize he was in the middle of a warm-up drill.

Aaron reached her, and his eyes danced the way they had the last time they were together. “Hi.” He took the spot beside her, slipped his arm around her shoulders, and gave her a quick hug. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not yet.” She smiled because she wasn’t angry. He’d made her no promises, after all. But she could feel the walls in her eyes. “His team’s warming up.”

“Good.” He rubbed his hands together. He wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “It’s colder than I thought.”

She looked up. “It’ll warm up when the fog breaks.”

He hesitated and she could feel him look at her. As if he understood something had changed between them. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another smile. Then she turned her gaze to the field. “I love watching Cory play soccer.” She kept her tone light because she didn’t want to give her feelings away, not completely. This wasn’t the place to cut ties with him. That could come later. For now, it was more important that they focus on the game.

Aaron’s body language showed his concern, but he must’ve realized there was nothing he could do. Not if Megan wasn’t willing to talk about whatever was going on. So instead, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Let’s go, Cory…Make it happen!”

Then, and throughout the game, as Cory scored first one goal to tie the game, and then a second to win it with a minute left, Megan savored the feel of Aaron beside her. For just one more hour, it felt good to believe they might’ve had a chance, that maybe he really had feelings only for her. And it felt good to have a man cheering for Cory, something the boy had never experienced.

When the game ended, Megan felt herself being pulled back into reality. She congratulated Cory, and Aaron did the same.

“Thanks for coming!” Cory’s cheeks were red and the joy in his eyes knew no limit. He slipped his arm around Aaron’s waist as they walked toward the parking lot. “Wanna get lunch and take it to the park?”

“Sure.” Aaron cast her a questioning look.

“Sounds good.” She averted her eyes, but only so she’d stay strong. She’d already made up her mind about what would happen after today. Now she had to act on her decision.

They picked up subs from a deli and made their way back to the same park, a few blocks from the youth center. They sat at a sturdy picnic table, and while they ate their sandwiches, Cory talked about the game and how his teammates passed better than ever before, and how a few of the guys knew it was Aaron Hill cheering for him, and how one guy even asked for Cory’s autograph because of it.

Megan barely ate her lunch. Her stomach was in knots, and now she had no doubt Aaron had picked up on the fact that something was wrong. When they were finished eating, Megan put her hand on Cory’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy, could you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” He grinned.

A flash of pain ripped through Megan’s heart, because maybe Cory would not look as happy as he did right now for a very long time. She steeled herself against the hurt of what lay ahead. “Could you go play on the equipment for a little while? I need to talk to Aaron alone.”

Cory’s smile dropped off some, but not in a way that showed he was truly worried. He looked at Aaron and then back at her. “Sure. I wanna get on the swings, anyway.” His smile was back in full force. “I’m trying to set a personal best on how far I can jump.”

Megan could feel Aaron watching her and sensed that he wasn’t willing to make another minute of small talk. She forced a smile for Cory. “After that amazing soccer game, today’s probably the day to do it.”

“Yeah.” He climbed off the picnic bench and took a step back. “Thanks.” He started his familiar backward running, and he waved at her and Aaron. “See you in a little bit.” Then he turned around and sped off to the swings.

They were sitting across from each other, and for a few minutes, neither said anything. Already the air between them was dramatically different. Awkward and strained. Aaron broke the silence first. “Did I miss something?”

She sighed and turned her eyes to him. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh.” He hesitated, and then a nervous laugh sounded from him. “Why does that seem like a bad thing?”

“Because…” She hated this. If only she could slide over to his side of the table and cling to him the way she had during the Turbo Ride. This part of the adventure was even more frightening than going over a waterfall. She searched his eyes. “It could never work, Aaron. Me and you.”

His expression froze, and for a few seconds he only stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?” He let loose a single, bitter laugh. “I’m gone for a week and everything changes?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to get into the gritty details, but she had no choice. She couldn’t let him wonder why her feelings had changed. She lifted her chin and breathed in long and slow. As she exhaled, she faced him again. “I read Monday’s paper.”

Aaron blinked, as if he were still waiting for her to make sense. “Okay…” He laughed, but it sounded tense and desperate. “We lose a couple games and you’re ready to give up on me?”

She hesitated. “You know what I mean. The piece about you and the Hollywood actress.”

He couldn’t have looked more surprised if she’d suddenly started speaking Japanese. “What piece?”

Megan’s head began to spin. She gripped the edge of the bench with both hands and stared at him. He had to know about it, right? The truth behind the story, if not the article itself. Her mouth felt dry as she tried to find the words. “The article about you and some actress being interested in each other.” She met his eyes straight on. “Your agent’s working to set up a first meeting.”

For a few seconds, Aaron looked stunned, too shocked to move or speak. Then his face grew red and anger blazed in his eyes. He stood and turned his back to her, and he walked to the nearest oak tree. He clenched his fist and drew it back like he was going to send it deep into the tree trunk. At the last second, he stopped himself and then released a few controlled hits against his other palm. Every muscle in his body looked tight with rage.

He walked a few steps to the side, stopped and took two more steps in another direction. He was the picture of pent-up fury and Megan couldn’t understand. Didn’t he think she’d find out, that she’d see it in the
Chronicle
? Even if he didn’t know about the article, he had to understand that the media would find such a story sensational.

Aaron finally relaxed his hands and stared up through the trees at the still foggy sky. He groaned, and after a little while, he turned and faced her. Fifteen yards separated them, but from where Megan sat, she could see the turmoil in his eyes. He came to her slowly, and as he reached the bench he narrowed his eyes, looking at her more intently than ever. “I had nothing to do with that article, Megan. You have to believe me.”

Confusion swelled inside her. She wanted to believe him, but his words didn’t make sense. “You didn’t know about it?”

“No.” He dropped back to the edge of the bench, still facing her. “My agent must’ve called it in. That’s all I can figure.”

His agent. Megan shifted her eyes away from him and onto the ground near her feet. The same agent who showed such disdain when she and Cory showed up for the Raiders game during the preseason. If he was Aaron’s agent, he was in constant contact with Aaron, constantly working deals for him. The article meant the guy either had no knowledge of Aaron’s feelings for Megan, or he disapproved of them. A sad weariness came over her as she found his eyes again. “There has to be some truth to it, Aaron.”

Anger changed his expression. “There is.” The muscles in his jaw flexed. “My agent
wants
me to date a Hollywood actress. Thinks it’ll be good for my image. Which is something I’ll be talking to him about when I’m done here.” He seemed to catch the fact that he was talking too loud. He lowered his tone, his eyes pleading with her. “But I don’t want that kind of setup. I never authorized him to run the story.”

Megan studied him, the sincerity in his eyes. Slowly, gradually, she felt herself changing her mind about the incident. So maybe he didn’t want to date an actress, and maybe his agent was responsible for tipping the paper about the story. “Still…” Her voice was softer than before, more vulnerable. “He’s your agent. He knows you better than I do. He must.”

Aaron’s breathing came faster, in short bursts. He shook his head slowly, clearly warring with his emotions. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and looked hard at her. “He doesn’t know me at all. Not who I am today…who I want to be.”

His statement rolled around in her heart, but in the end, the answers came from her soul. She reached across the table and put her hand over his. “We’re too different, Aaron. Can’t you see it?” Her heart thudded against her chest, because she hated this, hated breaking away from him. But God had allowed her to see the article for a reason, to warn her. “Look…you’re a nice guy, Aaron. A different guy than I had you figured to be.” Her voice mixed with the sorrow inside her. “I had a great time.” She turned her attention toward the distant swing set, and Cory, pushing himself as high as he could go. “Cory had a great time too.”

“And that’s bad?” Aaron was deeply upset, his voice told that much. He pulled away from her touch and stood, his back to her again. “It’s just like I thought.”

Her heartbeat came harder, faster. “What?”

He put his hands on his hips and stared into the sky. The fog was clearing, and he seemed to find a blue patch. For a long while, he only gave an occasional shake of his head, a few sounds of disbelief. When he finally turned to her, he met her eyes straight on. “It’s my past, right? You can’t see around it, and you know what?” He put one foot up on the bench where he’d been sitting. He leaned over it, his eyes intense. “I can’t see around it either.”