Dirty Tackle: A Football Romance (2 page)

I’d come back here to get them off of the ground, and now they were falling again.

I sighed. “You paid for my college tuition and lent me money to close the gaps when I was in residency. The least I can do is pay you back on that. It’s not as much as this, and it’ll take me some time, but it’s a start,” I said.

My father shook his head. “Nonsense. We were happy to do that for you.”

“But you didn’t have the money. You just didn’t realize it,” I argued. My hand waved over the sheets of paper in front of me. “It turns out you haven’t had money for a long time. What is the accountant telling you? I know you said you might have to dissolve the business, but is it worse than that? Be honest with me.”

“I don’t know how we can keep the doors open. We’ve already had to lay off over half the staff, and we can’t keep up with our client base as it is. We took out a second mortgage on the house to be able to keep the business afloat this long, but even that’s not enough,” my father said. I could tell that saying these words aloud were painful. Alan Thompson was a proud man. “That’s not for you to worry about, though, Maddy. You’ve got a great new job, and you and Scarlet have a bright future in D.C. You’re going to be fine.”

“There must be something I can do,” I said searching my mind for any option. “Don’t do anything yet. I can lend you the money to keep things running for at least a couple more months. Let’s sit down and see if we can figure this out. I don’t want you to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

“Dear, don’t worry about it. You have your new job to think about. We want you focused on that and making sure that Scarlet has an easy transition to her new home. We can come with you,” my mom said.

I was worried about my new job and the move for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I was moving hours away from my parents when I thought they might need me the most and was uprooting my daughter from the only home she had ever known. I turned to my mother. “Are you sure you can come with me? I hate taking you away from everything right now.” My mother had agreed to stay with us for the first few months until we were able to get acclimated. It was going to be a great help for me in saving money on childcare, and now I saw the need for it even more than I had before.

“It gives me more time to spend with my granddaughter. I don’t mind,” my mother said. Even though she said that, I saw a long look exchanged between her and my father. They had been married for twenty years, and I thought they were just as in love today as they were on the day they got married. I imagined it would be a strain on them to be apart, especially if my father would have to shoulder everything for the business on his own.

I got up from the table and walked over to my briefcase. I pulled out the paperwork that I had been ready to sign and send in. It was the offer letter from the Gilmore Institute of Sports Medicine. They were the most elite sports medicine practice in D.C. The fact that I had got an offer from them at all was astounding. I hadn’t expected to score such a fantastic opportunity from my first round of job applications. Gilmore had been my first choice for a lot of reasons.

“Are you nervous?” my mother asked. It was a loaded question.

“There’s nothing they can throw at me that I haven’t done a million times. It’ll be great,” I said although I knew I didn’t sound very convincing. But my mother knew just as I did that it had nothing to do with the work itself.
 

The Gilmore Institute had clientele that included the general public, but it was also the practice that supported the Washington football team. There was a good chance that, at some point, my rotation would put me in the position of working with the team, especially as I specialized in sports injury and rehabilitation. Although that should have been incredibly exciting just from a career standpoint, I knew that working with the the team meant that sooner or later I was going to be confronted by my past. A long time past.

Shane Wright. The boy who had gotten away, or more appropriately, the boy that I had shoved out of my life as quickly as I could when I was nineteen years old.

We were once best friends—and then there was that one night.
 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. It was almost as if fate was trying to tell me that I could no longer run from the truth of my past. I was on a collision course with Shane. It was inevitable even as much as I logically understood it was necessary for one very important reason.

My eight-year-old daughter skipped into the room whistling a tune that I had never heard before. Every day was a new surprise with her. She seemed to catch the tone of the room without anyone saying a word. Her feet stilled even as the whistle cut off in mid-note. “What’s up?” she asked cocking her head as she looked around the room. “Why is everyone so sad?”

My mother started fussing over her. “Nobody’s sad. We’re just all looking forward to your move. It’s going to be so exciting to be in a new school and getting to meet new friends.”

Scarlet’s face fell. I knew that she wasn’t looking forward to the move at all. It’s not something that I would have advocated if the new job with the Gilmore Institute wasn’t so lucrative. Plus, if I worked for them for even one year, I could get a job anywhere in the country with little effort. At that moment, there was a crushing feeling in my gut. It wouldn’t be
fun
for Scarlet, not exactly. But there would be a huge financial benefit—and of course there was more.
 

I had to be honest with myself. The job and its salary were had benefits for my daughter and for my parents, but the real reason I was willing to uproot my life and Scarlet’s had everything to do with Shane Wright. The time had come to pay the piper. Scarlet had started asking questions about her daddy, and they were questions I couldn’t avoid forever.

As I stared into my daughter’s beautiful blue eyes, I knew I owed her the chance to have a relationship with him, if that was what he wanted. That was the real reason I had taken the job. I was going to test the waters with him and see if it was safe, and then I’d have to tell him.
 

I was too chicken just to call him or email him to tell him I wanted to see him. That’s what a logical person would have done, but I still didn’t know how to say, “You have a daughter” after almost nine years of no communication at all. It was a delicate situation.

I stared at all of the unpaid bills and opened envelopes with past due notices inside of them on the kitchen table. My job had taken on a new kind of importance now, though. I had more than just Scarlet and our future to worry about.

“It’s going to be great, sweetie,” I said as I ruffled her hair. I looked at my parents and saw that they were both frowning at me. So far, nothing was great, and I sensed it would only get worse before it got better. “It’s all going to be great,” I repeated. If I said the words often enough, maybe I could make them true.

I wrung my hands hard that first day of work, pacing all over the house I had moved into with my mom and dad. Even Scarlet watched me suspiciously, but she kept quiet and got her backpack ready for her second week at school.
 

That’s what comes with being a single mom sometimes—my daughter has always known more about me than I do myself.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’ve been looking so forward to this.” My mother gave me a look that said she knew something was up, but I wasn’t about to share it with her. She knew plenty about Shane, but I didn’t need to get into it right now.

“Oh, I’m just a little nervous about going in today. Gilmore is the best game in town—and what if I’m not good enough? I couldn’t bear it, for Scarlet’s sake and mine.” This was only partly true. I was at the top of my game professionally, and intellectually, I knew I’d be just fine. There was a gut feeling that I might screw it all up. But the bigger feeling had to do with Shane—and seeing him again. Over the past eight—no, nine—years, I’d thought of him, fantasized about him, wanted him. But as his career took off, there was no way I was going to tarnish his reputation, or complicate his life with Scarlet. He was known as a womanizer, and he didn’t need us in his life.
 

The guilt has been crushing.

And he’s never married—never even had a long-term relationship that I know of.
 

I couldn’t help thinking that might be because of me. I’ve never been a vain person, but the thought kept crossing my mind that morning.
 

What if the last nine years of my life had all been a mistake?

What if the boy I’d been in love with was the man I was meant to be with?
 

And what if I screwed everything up with him as soon as I saw him?

“Oh honey,” my mom said as I packed my lunch for the day. “You’ll be just fine. Better than fine. You always have been fine. It’s your dad and me that need bailing out.”
 

I rolled my eyes and let her kiss me on the cheek. “Y’all are just fine up here. You’ll get back on your feet and get the business started up for real again.”
 

These words—I’ve said them over and over. This time, it was true, I told myself. New life, new opportunities.
 

“Thanks for that, Maddy.”

“You’ll make sure Scarlet gets to school?” I looked through the hall, and I saw a head of curly hair peeking around the entrance to the living room.
 

Scarlet popped out and ran over to me, snuggling my side, her hands drawn tight around my waist. “And you’ll pick me up.”

“I can’t tonight. Your grandmother will. But I’m reading to your class tomorrow, and then we’ll go out for milkshakes.”

Scarlet looked up at me with big, searching, blue eyes. “Okay, Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too, Doodlebug.” I tousled her hair and headed out the door to walk to the metro. My heart was heavy, guilt sweeping through my body.
 

The metro ride was shorter than I thought it would be, and I arrived about ten minutes too early. Heart beating fast, my mind dreading the worst, I went around the corner to the Au Bon Pain to grab a coffee and a bagel. As I sat by the window, I couldn’t help but look at everyone on the street, wondering if Shane would pass by.

“Maybe you won’t even recognize him if he does,” I said to myself, ripping off small pieces of my bagel and shoving them into my mouth.

After I had assured myself that it was highly unlikely I’d see Shane at all on my first day—DC had a big team, and not all of them needed sports rehab—I threw away the remainder of the bagel and poured the rest of the coffee down my throat.
 

As soon as I walked into the Institute, I found myself whisked away by the front desk attendant—a short woman named Sylvia. She showed me the staff lounge, the exam rooms, and all the other twists and turns and mazes that made up the city’s largest sports medicine office.
 

I settled into my own exam room, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. I might have been an educated woman with years of medical experience, but still, I sometimes felt I was pretending to be a doctor. It was my one dream come true—besides Scarlet, the best and least expected dream of them all—and on some days, it was all I could do to convince myself that I wasn’t pretending to be a doctor.
 

The first two appointments went by in a lightning flash—blood draws and nurse visits and physical therapy referrals all falling into place like they should. I had to keep reminding myself that Shane wouldn’t magically appear—and if he did, he’d know I wasn’t here just for him.

Wouldn’t he?

And wasn’t I here for myself, most of all, not for him?
 

By lunchtime, I was ravenous, the half bagel sitting poorly on my stomach. I stepped out of the exam room, checking my schedule and noting that I didn’t need to be back to my appointments until one.

As I turned the corner that led down the hall to the staff lounge, I spotted Sylvia, the receptionist, leaning over her desk and talking to a very tall man with dirty blond hair.
 

My heart stopped, and I backed up so that my body was partly behind a water fountain. I didn’t have to look closer to know that the man in question was Shane Wright, and that if he turned this way, I’d see those deep blue eyes. The same ones I saw every day—my daughter’s eyes. His daughter’s eyes.
 

“The pamphlet on the table out front does say there’s a new doctor here, Sylvia.” I see him looking down at the receptionist’s name tag. “And it says her name is Madeline Thompson. She’s a sports medicine physician.”

“Mr. Wright,” Sylvia said, shooting me a look. “I can’t give you directions to her office. She doesn’t quite have one yet. Do you have a concern? Dr. Ellis can answer your questions just as well as Dr. Thompson.”

“I’m sure he can. He’s a good doctor. No—I’m not looking to ask a question. Maddy—I mean Dr. Thompson—is an old friend of mine. And I haven’t seen her in a good long while. I’d very much like to.”

“I can let her know you checked in.” Sylvia shot me another glance, and I shrugged, like it didn’t matter one way or another. I don’t think I could have done anything else. My poor heart was beating just as hard as it could, and I could barely think straight.