Just One Week (16 page)

“I’m so proud of you, Mickey,” Dad said. “You’re going to do great things.”

Exactly what Alex had said to her in the cottage. She’d flinched a bit then as she’d realized he was telling her to take the job and leave him behind. She took it better from his dad, smiling at him. But sadness remained around her eyes.

“We want to hear from you about how things are going,” his mom added. “Regular updates.”

“You’ll get them,” Michelle said. “I promise.”

Kyle put his arm around her shoulders. The protective big brother. “You ready to go, sis?”

“Not so soon.” Mom hugged Michelle again. “At least, have something to eat.”

“No time.” Michelle embraced Mom for a bit and then stepped back. Mom tried to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes when she went back to the stove. This visit had started with guilt, and it would end with guilt squared. And Alex deserved every bit of it.

Finally, Michelle gave them all a smile that wouldn’t fool a toddler. “It was a wonderful party. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You come back real soon, honey,” Dad said.

“I will,” Michelle said. Of course, she didn’t mention when.

“Come on, sis, we don’t want to be late,” Kyle said.

Her gaze scanned the room. It briefly fell on Alex, but she made no move toward him. “Well, good-bye.”

No one said a word. They all could have turned to stone. Finally, she turned and left, Kyle right behind her.

Alex still couldn’t move as the two of them went out onto the driveway. Car doors opened and closed with a heavy finality. Then the truck’s engine started, and tires kicked up gravel as they went down the driveway.

Eventually, all three of them looked at him again, and if eyes could really shoot daggers, he’d be sausage about now. Did they think he was so callous that he didn’t care that the woman he loved had just walked away from him forever? Could they honestly think he’d been playing her?

Oh, hell. His parents probably just thought he’d messed up things with their Mickey again, and they’d be right. Chase was angry because he considered his brother a dumbass, which he was. None of that would get Alex through the misery that he’d caused with his own stupidity.

Suddenly, all the air seemed sucked out of the room, and he had to get out of there. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Breakfast’ll be ready soon,” his mother said.

“Don’t wait for me.” He headed out the same door Michelle had used to leave him, and he crunched along the same gravel drive. When he hit the road, he’d go for a few miles or twenty. When he got back, she’d still be gone, and the cottage would be as empty as his heart.

Chapter Eleven

Nothing worked. None of the things that normally made Alex happy mattered worth a damn. Going out with friends. Barbecuing. Lounging in his hammock with a beer. And forget dating. No interest there.

After a month, nothing had eased the ache created by the hole inside him where Michelle would have been. And now, he’d blown another play in practice. Instead of blitzing, he’d given the quarterback enough time to write a dissertation in the backfield. So, the QB had found his receiver easily, and the guy had flown by Alex on his way to the goal line. If this had been a game, he could have lost it for the team. And that could mean losing a chance at the playoffs and the championship. He had to get his head back in gear.

He avoided eye contact with the linebacker coach as he headed back to the practice huddle, but Coach got him, anyway.

“Stafford,” he yelled from the sideline. “Get over here.”

Alex’s ears burned with embarrassment as he trotted to the sideline and Coach. The rest of them—twenty-one guys—stood with their hands on their hips. They’d all watch him getting chewed out.

He didn’t try for any excuse or explanation because, frankly, he didn’t have either. Instead, he faced Coach head-on. “Sorry. I blew that one.”

“And two others just this morning,” Coach said. “Alex, what’s wrong with you? You’re my go-to guy.”

“Maybe the knee’s worse than I thought.” That was lame. Not his usual honesty.

“Your body isn’t the problem.” Coach rapped his knuckles against Alex’s helmet. “You’re brain is.”

“I know.” Namely, his brain was occupied with thoughts of Michelle. Where was she? How was she doing? Did she miss him as much as he did her? Did she wake up thinking she might find his face on the pillow next to hers—morning after morning, followed by a crush of disappointment?

“It was a draw play,” Coach said.

“I saw that.”

“What do you do in a draw play?”

“Head over the guard toward the QB,” Alex answered.

“Then do it next time, okay?” Coach said.

“I will.”

One of the assistants ran up to them—young guy just out of college. He had a piece of paper in his hand. He handed it to Alex. “It’s for you.”

“Me?” No one would interrupt him in the middle of practice unless the issue was important. He took the paper and unfolded it.

“I need your help,” it read. The mother of one of the kids he was mentoring had signed it.

He glanced at the assistant. “Is she here?”

“In the conference room,” the assistant answered.

All the parents of his kids knew they could talk to him twenty-four/seven, but only in an emergency. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

“Wait…what?” Coach said. “You’re not walking out on practice.”

“Just for a few minutes,” Alex said. “I’ll be right back.”

Coach threw his arms up. “Oh, for the love of…”

Before Coach could object any louder, Alex headed toward the tunnel leading to the locker room and other facilities. The coaches had a small room for meetings there, and he found Mrs. Nelson standing by the white board. Her son, Trevor, sat in a chair staring down at his lap.

Mrs. Nelson wrung her hands. “I’m sorry to bother you during practice, but there wasn’t any other time when I’m not working and Trevor is out of school.”

“Not a problem. What’s wrong?” Alex said. They both appeared healthy enough, although Mrs. Nelson looked exhausted, as usual. A single mother, she worked two jobs and did her best parenting in the time she had left over.

“Tell Mr. Stafford, Trevor,” she said. Trevor didn’t speak, but his expression said a lot about misery.

“You didn’t get arrested, did you?” Alex said.

That got a reaction. Trevor’s head snapped up. “No, not that.”

“Well, then…”

“His grades have slipped,” Mrs. Nelson said. “And I know he’s working hard.”

Alex took the seat next to Trevor’s. “What’s going on, pal?”

“Tell Mr. Stafford what you said to me today,” Mrs. Nelson said.

Trevor looked away and mumbled something. It had the word “college” in it. Alex wasn’t going to get an answer from him, so he turned to Mrs. Nelson for an explanation.

“He told me he doesn’t want to go to college,” she said.

Alex put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Why not?”

“College isn’t important,” Trevor said finally. “Lots of people don’t go to college, and they make money.”

Mrs. Nelson approached the table, placed her hands on the top, and bent over her son. “College is what we’ve worked for. Mr. Stafford is making it possible. You don’t want to throw that away, do you?”

Trevor nearly cowered under his mother’s questions, so Alex motioned to her with his head that he’d take over.

“I thought you wanted to go to college,” he said.

Trevor simply shrugged.

“Did something change?” Alex had known going into this that not all his kids would make it to college, but Trevor wasn’t afraid of hard work, and he had a mother solidly behind him. Alex had never expected to lose this kid.

“I don’t like school,” Trevor said.

“You like football,” Alex said. “You have to go to college if you want to play after high school.”

All the energy seemed to drain out of Mrs. Nelson, and she sagged into a chair next to her son. “He’s having trouble reading. The counselor at his school had him tested. He says it’s dyslexia.”

The word hit Alex right between the eyes. Damn. Trevor was facing the same uphill trudge Alex had endured, but he didn’t have the resources of the Stafford family behind him.

“He’s going to need help,” Alex said. “I know a great program I do benefits for.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Nelson gave him a weak smile.

“I’ll pay for it,” he added.

“Oh, no…we couldn’t. You’ve done so much…” Mrs. Nelson said.

“They give me a lot of money to play this game,” he said. “Please, let me do this.”

Mrs. Nelson put her arm around her son. “That’s very good of you, but we’ll figure this out. I’ll tutor him myself.”

“You don’t have the expertise, Mrs. Nelson.” Even if she had the time.

“I’ll find a way to pay for it, then,” she said. “You only need to convince Trevor to stay in school and go to college.”

She could never afford the kind of help Trevor needed unless she took another job, and then she could collapse from exhaustion. But how to convince her to let him pay? He’d have to figure out a way past her pride, or he’d lose Trevor. Probably to the place where most kids went when they dropped out of school—the streets. He couldn’t let that happen.

For once, he was going to have to sacrifice his image as Mr. Invincible—the guy with no weaknesses. It had served him well for years, protecting him from ridicule and worse—pity. But if he could help Trevor, it would be worth it.

So he mentally prepped himself the way he did before a game. He could do this painful, impossible thing and come out at the other end with a win.

“Listen up.” He gripped Trevor’s shoulder again. “I’m going to tell you something only my family knows. No one else, you understand?”

Trevor stared at him out of wide brown eyes and nodded.

“I have dyslexia.”

“You?” Trevor said. “But you’re smart, and you went to college.”

“Dyslexia doesn’t have anything to do with being smart.” God, how many times had he said and heard that? Maybe now he could finally let himself believe it. “My grades were nothing to get excited about, but I passed all my classes and graduated fair and square.”

“You can do the same, honey,” Mrs. Nelson said.

“Only with tutoring,” Alex said. “Let me pay for it.”

Mrs. Nelson clearly struggled with herself for a moment. A proud woman, she’d only accepted Alex’s help for her son because it had come as part of a program through Trevor’s school that other students in his class participated in. Taking his money for anything more would feel like charity to her. Still, he had to get beyond her reluctance for her son’s sake.

“Mrs. Nelson,” he said quietly. “I’ve been given a very great deal in life. Even before I joined the NFL, I always had every material thing I needed.”

She didn’t say anything but stared into her child’s face. At least, she hadn’t shut Alex out.

“My parents were able to get me the help I needed, and I can do the same for Trevor, if you’ll let me.”

“That’s very kind of you—”

“Not kindness,” he said. “What’s the point of having the world’s riches if you can’t share them with others?”

She still didn’t answer.

“Please, let me do this,” he said.

Finally, she put her palm to her son’s cheek. “He’ll work really hard. I promise.”

“I know he will.” After one more shake of Trevor’s shoulder Alex got up. “I’d better get back to practice. We don’t want the coach benching me.”

“Hell—er…heck no,” Trevor declared.

Mrs. Nelson rose, too. Her eyes were red, but maybe just from lack of sleep. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Before he got all emotional, he went out into the hall. Halfway to the locker room, he stopped. He’d told someone about his dyslexia, and the roof hadn’t caved in on him. He’d actually made the word come out of his mouth, and nothing terrible had happened. If he could get past that with a high school kid, why couldn’t he tell the woman he loved?

What a dumb question with an obvious answer. He could tell Michelle. But first, he was going to have to fix things with her brother, his best friend. Then he’d find her and make his case.

Enough with being miserable. Enough with hiding out. Michelle might not want him after he’d acted like such an asshat toward her, but he’d work on her until she forgave him.

And, come to think of it, fate or providence or the NFL had given him the perfect opportunity. His team was playing San Francisco this week. Only a stone’s throw from home. He’d get Kyle and the family together to clear the air. Then, he’d figure out the best way to approach Michelle and apologize. Tell her he loved her.

His step felt a hell of a lot lighter as he made his way toward the front offices. Past the defensive coordinator’s office, he went straight to the top. The head coach. He didn’t stop for the man’s secretary but went to his door, knocked on it, and then opened it. Bob Griffin glanced up in surprise at the intrusion. One of the media people—a woman in a sea of testosterone—sat across the desk from Griffin.

“Alex,” Griffin said. “Is there a problem?”

“I need to talk to you,” Alex answered.

“Would you mind, Rachel?” Griffin said.

“No problem.” Rachel left the room.

Alex didn’t bother to close the door behind him or take a seat. “I have dyslexia.”

Griffin stared at him. “And…”

“That’s it for right now.”

“You interrupted me for
that
?” Griffin said. Clearly, dyslexia didn’t matter a whole lot to him.

“Does it make any difference to you?”

Griffin shrugged. “You read the playbook well enough.”

“Actually, I don’t. I have to stare at it like a jigsaw puzzle to make sense of it.”

“You’re one of the brightest guys I’ve ever had.” Griffin put his elbows on the desk and leaned toward Alex.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. Your coach says you pick things up really fast and you come up with original ideas.”

Clearly, Griffin hadn’t spoken to Coach today, but he’d let that lie.

“There is something else,” Alex said. “After the game on Sunday, I want a few days to go home.”

Griffin stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “The regular season starts soon. I need you in practice.”

His practices sucked the way he was now, but he didn’t have to mention that. He did have to fix it. “I’ll be back. Just give me three days.”

Griffin tipped back in his chair and studied Alex. “You’re not talking with another team, are you?”

“I’m not. This is personal.”

“All right.” Griffin huffed. “But two days, not three.”

“Deal.” Alex left before the man could change his mind. Now he only had to figure out how to get Michelle back.