Quarterback Daddy (11 page)

But daydreams weren’t reality. Alexis had learned that years ago by watching her own mother, who obviously saw something in Cal Brown the rest of the world didn’t. Perhaps Alexis’s daydream image of Dan—a big man with gentle hands, who knew how to love—was accurate. But perhaps she was simply seeing what she wanted and he really was drowning his grief in hidden bottles of vodka. Until she was sure, she had to be careful. For her sake and Michelle’s.

I
T WAS ALMOST A RELIEF
when Dan went out of town the next weekend. His Wednesdays away from home helped, too. He’d never told her exactly where he went on those nights, but he had referred to his activities as meetings.

She’d conjured up a number of possibilities—a team meeting at the stadium, or a dinner out with his players or even an AA meeting. Only one other option worried her. The “happy hours” constantly promoted by clubs and restaurants in the city. These social times were a magnet for young singles, and even she had gone once or twice with coworkers. Dan would fit in well if he was still looking to bury the pain of losing Kim. He could have stretched the definition of “meeting” easily enough. In her experience, alcoholics lied more easily and more often than they spoke the truth.

One day, she’d come right out and ask him where he went. So far, she had no cause to question him. He came home sober and smiling, happy to see her. Which was why she needed more of her own space.

Every time she saw him, she wanted him. And he knew it. He’d flirt with her, hug her, murmur in her ear. But he kept his word, the promise he’d made to her before she came to live with him and Michelle. He was respecting her boundaries. Definitely a good idea, but sometimes—despite her best efforts—she wanted what she was missing.

Impatient with herself now, she tried to focus on the computer screen. She needed to get her head together, to figure out what to do besides daydream about the man. On this last Friday night in November, she was browsing the Internet for possible job leads, a definite back-to-reality exercise. Not that it distracted her from
anticipating Dan’s phone call. Whenever he traveled, he called from his host city, and tonight he’d be in New York, ready to face the Jets on Sunday. Hopefully, the Patriots would add to their wins, as they’d done last week against the Redskins.

She chuckled, thinking about Dan’s unwillingness to admit that with their 12–1 record so far, they were having a remarkable season. She went along with him and never, ever mentioned the
S
word. She was certain, however, that all of Boston was speculating.

When her cell rang, she answered immediately and heard, “Hi, Ally.”

“Hi, yourself. So, you’ve arrived safe and sound?”

“Yep, except for one omission. No wallet. So, before I cancel credit cards, will you check my bedroom? And maybe the game room?”

“Sure. I’m walking toward your bedroom now and…let’s just say it’s pretty messy.”

“Sorry. I left in a rush.”

“Good excuse. But I don’t want to pry. So where should I look?”

She followed his directions—a quick search of his night table drawer and the floor under the bed, the bathroom counter, the top of his dresser. No wallet anywhere.

“I’m going to need more time to be thorough. How about if I call you back?”

After he agreed, she disconnected the call and began searching more slowly, starting in the bathroom where he’d showered right before Louis had picked him up to go to the airport. A balled-up undershirt lay on the floor, but no wallet beneath. The vanity was pretty clear
except for a lovely ceramic dish with some coins but no wallet. She opened the top drawer on the off chance the wallet had somehow fallen in there.

Bingo. There it was, half-hidden by something blue, maybe a scarf. She picked up the items to separate them and wished she hadn’t.

The cloth wasn’t a scarf. It was a blue turban with a dark hairpiece attached in the back. It had to be Kim’s. Such a personal item, and he’d kept it. Alexis’s eyes misted. He’d loved that woman with an enduring strength she could hardly imagine.

Intending to return it to the drawer, she began to fold the turban neatly and heard a crackling sound. Inside the cap was a piece of paper, a small photograph. She stared at it for a long time, until she understood the image.

It was a picture of Kim and Dan together, both of them bald and smiling at the camera. He’d shaved his head to match hers. On the back was written, “I’m with you all the way.” Dan’s script.

Alexis had a lump in her throat, but she didn’t understand why she grieved so deeply right then. Was it for the lovely couple—for the death of their innocent dreams? Or was it for the death of her own unreasonable, barely acknowledged ones? She studied the picture and saw true love. Dan and Kim Delito.

With shaky hands, she replaced the items in the drawer and put Dan’s wallet on top of the coins in the ceramic dish. As she reentered the bedroom to retrieve her mobile from Dan’s bed, she glanced at the wall in the reading alcove and lost her breath.

A large portrait—of her! Or what could have been her. Alexis sank onto the mattress, her heart pounding.
No wonder everyone who knew Dan reacted strongly when they met her. No wonder the kids asked about “Auntie Kim’s angel.” At first glance, she and Dan’s wife could have been sisters. She certainly looked more like Kim than Sherri.

At second glance, she saw the differences that Dan rattled off so easily. However, the resemblance left
her
rattled. Maybe the old saying about everyone having a double was true. She’d never thought about it before, never had reason to.

She slowly returned to her own bedroom, knowing she had to call Dan about his credit cards, and knowing she couldn’t reveal a thing about her discovery or her state of mind. Dan had a game to play on Sunday. Besides, he already knew she and Kim resembled each other. It wouldn’t shock him as it had her. She took a deep breath, hit the auto-dial and gave him the good news about the wallet.

“That’s terrific, Ally. Thanks so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll see you late Sunday night. It’s an early game.”

“I’ll be cheering.”

They disconnected and she slumped against the headboard. After congratulating herself for pulling it off, she let the tears flow.

She’d always known, in her head, that Dan had loved Kim deeply. She’d known, too, about the resemblance between herself and Dan’s late wife. But knowing something in your head and feeling it in your heart are two different things.

That was a lesson Alexis had learned the hard way
when Sherri died. She’d seen it happen. She’d read the newspaper articles and the police reports. But it was only when she picked up the phone one day in mid-August to call her sister, and realized Sherri would never answer again, that she truly
understood.

The emotions that washed over her now were as uncontrolled and strong as the feelings she hadn’t been able to hold back on that summer afternoon. Alexis had always known, intellectually, that Dan was the wrong man for her. He still had an unknown relationship with the bottle. And he had an admitted habit of starting casual affairs with random women. She’d allowed herself to hope he’d kicked the booze and groupies. But even if he had, she now knew the one habit he’d never kick was Kim. And she also realized the only reason she herself had breached his defenses was that she reminded him of what he had lost.

She’d tried so hard to be rational, logical and sensible—all the qualities that had served her well in law school and the D.A.’s office. In fact, her rational mind had convinced her she could be just friends with Dan. That she didn’t want anything more.

But if that were the case, admitting that no one would ever take Kim’s place in his heart wouldn’t hurt like a punch in the stomach. She wouldn’t feel as though she had lost a vital battle she hadn’t even conceded she was waging.

Her head dropped to her hands and she sobbed.

F
EAR TRUMPED HER DISAPPOINTMENT
when Dan was taken out of that Sunday’s game at the beginning of the fourth quarter. This time, a brutal sacking left him on
the ground, and Alexis held her breath when he didn’t move for a long minute. Of course, he was surrounded by staff, who knelt next to him. While she watched, she saw him shake his head, then slowly manage to regain his feet. When the camera panned him, his grimace was clearly visible. The announcer said Delito had fallen directly on his right shoulder, his throwing arm, and was headed for some X-rays. The backup quarterback relieved him.

Silence descended on the game room as Dan’s family watched along with her, watched their Danny-boy cradle his injured arm and walk slowly from the field accompanied by two staff members.

Anger and fear warred inside Alexis. “This is the stupidest game ever invented, the dumbest way to earn a living. Why couldn’t he have chosen a normal, safe job? He might get killed out there! And then where would Michelle be?”

“It could have been worse,” said Rita, who didn’t appear too happy, either. “It could have been a concussion.”

“Look at the bright side,” contributed Joe. “New England has a bye week coming up. No game next Sunday, so Dan’ll have two weeks to recuperate.”

“And that’s supposed to make me happy?” snapped Alexis, jumping up from the sofa. “The same thing could happen again.”

Joe shrugged, put up his hands. “Okay. You’re right. I’m wrong. And stupid, too. Time for Joe to shut up.”

She grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “I’ve seen enough.”

“No, no, Ally. Put it back on. They’ll give us updates on Dan’s condition,” said Rita.

She clicked the remote again to hear speculation about a shoulder separation.

“Don’t expect him back tonight,” said Nick. “They might treat him in New York.”

“Just as well,” grumbled Alexis. “Because when he walks through that door, I’m going to kill him myself.”

But she didn’t. Not when she heard his key jingle at midnight and ran downstairs. Not when he walked through the door with his arm in a sling, his tired eyes devouring her like a heat-seeking missile.

“Sorry to wake you, but I needed to be home. I needed to see you.”

His words enveloped her with the warmth of a cozy blanket, and despite all her doubts, she quickly closed the distance between them. She stroked his cheek. “Welcome home, Danny-boy. But I think you should know that I hate football. I tried to like it, but I hate it. Just look at you. You’re really hurt.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as though he wanted to laugh—or kiss her. Resolutely, she stifled that thought.

“That’s my spice girl. Never afraid to speak her mind. Don’t be upset, Ally. I’ll be just fine. I’ve got a lot of help.”

He stepped to the side, and for the first time she saw he was not alone. “This is Bobby Siegel, a physical therapist with the team.”

The guy was smaller than Dan, but still, that was no excuse to overlook someone. She hadn’t noticed anybody but Dan in the entry hall. She shook the visitor’s hand just as there was a soft rapping at the door.

“That’s Louis,” said Dan. “He’ll take Bobby home after I’m iced down for the night. I didn’t want to bother you to do it.”

“And I’ll be back early tomorrow,” said the therapist, “to keep the ice going. The team doctor will be around to check Dan out again. And maybe Sean will show up, too.”

“Or maybe not,” said Dan. “He might be working hard with my backup.”

As Alexis crossed the foyer to let Louis inside, she glanced from one man to the other, and the entire scene hit her as surreal. She’d gone down the rabbit hole and become part of a fantasy world peopled by folks who would never normally have crossed her path. A topflight sports medicine team who knew their stuff. A talented professional coach who’d work with Dan step-by-step to get him back to full strength—so that he could return to the field and put himself in danger again.

“By the way,” she said, leading the men into the kitchen, where the therapist loaded the freezer with a variety of ice packs, “who won the game? I never got to that part.”

Identical grins spread across the faces of three grown men. “It was a good day,” Dan said.

Welcome to the NFL.

It wasn’t a happy thought.

A
LEXIS HAD PLENTY OF
comments, especially after viewing the bruising of Dan’s shoulder, but she kept all her opinions to herself. The game was Dan’s business,
after all, not hers. If he had tried to tell her how to prosecute a case, she would have told him where to get off. So she kept her mouth shut and tried to make sure he didn’t reinjure himself accidentally, especially around Michelle, who got excited whenever she saw her daddy.

The ongoing activity in the house provided a distraction for her. With therapists, doctors and coaches in and out, with Maria preparing lunches and wanting her input, and with Michelle to care for, there was no opportunity to think about the Dan who lived in her heart, which was probably for the best.

“Are you going to your meeting tonight?” she asked on Wednesday afternoon when they were both in the game room with the baby. His arm was in a sling, he was downing anti-inflammatory medication, and she couldn’t imagine him participating in anything with his customary get-up-and-go.

In his club chair, he shook his head. “I’m off the hook. Wouldn’t be able to concentrate much anyway.”

“The pain’s still bad, isn’t it?” she asked.

Trying to shrug, he winced instead. “It’s chronic. I’ll be getting another cortisone shot tomorrow. That should ease it.”

She bit her tongue to avoid talking about the chances of him playing on the sixteenth in Nashville. His fans were rooting for that to happen; he probably was, too. Not her. Enough was enough.

“I’ve missed you, Ally,” he said quietly.

She understood the meaning behind his words but didn’t want to follow up. “Missed me?” she protested. “I’ve been here 24/7 since you got home.”

“And so have a million other people.” He smiled.
“One person seems like a million when all I’ve wanted is some time alone with you.”

A corner of her heart tore, and she could have wept. Dan was simply confused. It was Kim he wanted. He’d shaved his head for her, had gotten drunk on their anniversary. Instead of crying, however, she averted her glance and said, “Dan—please don’t go there. I’m a little off balance these days.”

He studied her with his usual intensity. “What’s going on? Oh, geez, Ally! It’s football, isn’t it? It’s got you mixed up. Well, I won’t be playing forever—I’m creeping up in years, and it’s a young man’s game.”

“Creeping up?” She laughed in relief at his absurd conclusion. The man had more energy than anyone she’d ever met. “You’re only thirty-one, so you’re in for a long haul.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s good to hear you laughing again. I love the sound.” Suddenly, he yawned, and his eyes closed. “The chair is more comfortable than my bed.”

“Then sleep here, if you can. I’ll put Michelle down, too, and take a picture of you both. ‘Father and Daughter—Naptime.’” She stood up and started toward the other side of the room, where Michelle was rolling around on her play mat.

“Very nice. But something’s missing.”

“What?”

“My good-night kiss.”

Ally stopped short and almost stopped breathing. Had Dan decided he wanted to forego their agreement?

Memories of his kisses flooded her. The warmth of his skin. The electricity that had arced between them. It was so tempting to just give in. To say yes.

But if they were going to step past their self-imposed boundaries, they’d need to have a long, difficult talk first. About Kim. About the drinking. About the future. And Dan was in no condition for a serious talk that could distract him from his job.

“I’ll have to owe you one,” she said, retrieving the baby and taking her to the changing table. “Your daughter has priority.”

“Only for now,” he murmured.

Danny. Danny. Danny. Maybe he was genuinely trying to open himself up to a new life and a new love, but that new love couldn’t be her. She ached for them both. They’d grown so close, laughing together, loving Michelle, but in the end, their relationship wouldn’t work.

She wouldn’t settle for second-best—which is exactly where she measured up against Kim Delito.

She wanted to be first. And that was a first. Never before in her adult life had she yearned to be so close to someone, so in sync, that they could laugh at the same jokes, share the same wonders and desire a life together.

Her old ways weren’t working anymore, not with this man. And that was all the more reason to keep her distance.

D
AN WISHED HE COULD
be cloned. His career needed his full attention. He’d be flying to Nashville with the team, not to play, but to provide support for his reserves. His backup would be the lead QB that weekend. Dan knew the player wanted to win for the team’s sake, but more because he didn’t want to let Dan down. The two weren’t close friends, but Dan knew the younger man considered him a role model. It was hard to be someone’s idol.

Ally also needed his full attention. She seemed to be walking on eggshells around him lately, always making general conversation, careful to avoid anything personal. He knew he was losing her. But why?

She was weirdly obsessed with keeping to their original agreement, a deal he’d half forgotten about until she reminded him of it the other day. He’d respect her wishes, of course, but he didn’t know why she was insisting on sticking to a pact they’d made before they really knew each other. Before they’d kissed. Before they’d shared a home.

Was their life together really nothing more than business to her?

The idea gnawed at him like a persistent mosquito. He could swear she cared for him as more than her employer and Michelle’s daddy. There were times he’d glimpsed the light of something more than friendship in her eyes. But perhaps he was imagining it, because he wanted to see it so badly.

When she’d first appeared at his door, he’d assumed she was interested in him only for his money. In fact, he’d accused her of that very thing—and she’d looked a bit shamefaced, he had to admit.

Was he really nothing more than a checkbook to her? The idea appalled him, but he couldn’t think of any other explanation for her coolness. He hadn’t touched a drop of booze since the day they’d met. They’d rarely so much as raised their voices to each other.

But he knew Ally—at least, he thought he did—and he was convinced she wasn’t as mercenary as he suspected. Whatever the reason for her detachment, it was making him miserable. He preferred the original Ally—the Ally who spoke her mind.

After he returned from Nashville, he’d instigate a conversation with Ally. He’d be able to continue his full-time recuperation at the stadium facilities, so the house would no longer be full of team staff. They’d be able to be themselves again.

On Friday, he hugged her at the door when Louis picked him up, and hope flowered when he felt her response and heard her parting words.

“No matter what happens in that game, Daniel, don’t you dare—dare—dare put on a uniform.” Stab, stab, stab. She still worried about him. A good sign.

“I’m on the disabled list, so I can’t play. If we lose, we’d still lead the division anyway at 13–2. Of course, we’d need to win the final two games to have home field advantage for the play-offs. I’ll be ready by then.”

“Hmm…does this mean we’re able to use the
S
word now?”

Her eyes twinkled, and she bit her lip trying to repress a smile, but the corners of her mouth lifted anyway.

“I suppose so,” he replied, not hiding his grin at all. “But we’d still have to win the play-offs. I guess I can’t fight it anymore. In the middle of December, the big game’s on everyone’s mind—that is, everyone who cares about this contest.”

She made a disgruntled face and he hugged her again, kissed the baby and left the house without another word. Better to part on a happy note.

T
HEY LOST THE
N
ASHVILLE
game by one touchdown. On the plane, the medical staff and coaches worked out a dual therapy and practice schedule for Dan for the fol
lowing week. In the car on the way home from the airport Sunday night, he fell asleep, and Louis had to wake him.

“You shoulda stayed home, Mr. Delito. Better off resting.”

“You’re probably right. Too bad the coach didn’t ask your advice. Thanks for a smooth ride, Lou—not easy, with all the potholes. See you in the morning.”

Dan walked to the front door, put his key in the lock and turned around. Louis was waiting for him to get inside, as though Dan were an invalid or a child. Or the starting quarterback for the New England Patriots. “I’m fine. Go home.”

The other man waved and took off.

Dan stepped indoors and inhaled the lingering aroma of something baking, something sweet and delicious. He took another deep breath and tried to identify it. Chocolate-chip cookies? Alexis? That would be a sight. She’d never claimed to be a cook, and he’d never seen her elbow deep in meal prep in all the weeks she’d lived with him. Maybe Maria had come by earlier, or his mom.

Suddenly, his stomach growled, his fatigue lifted and he whistled his way down the hall. He’d soon sample whatever it was that smelled so good.

He stopped short in the kitchen doorway and stared at Christmas.

Garlands draped the walls and looped from the light fixtures. A tabletop tree sat on the counter, a bright Santa on the high chair’s tray.

He hadn’t bothered with the holiday in years. He stood frozen in place, sucker punched.

Ally was covered with flour. It was even in her hair, which was gathered at the back of her neck. An apron hadn’t helped at all. She stood at the counter, humming as she checked the pages of an open book. Then she peeped into the oven.

“Potholders,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Use potholders.”

She whirled, hand on her heart. “Oh, my God, Danny. You scared me. I never heard a sound.” Turning away, she grabbed the mitts, removed the cookie sheet and placed it on top of the stove.

He scanned the room again, trying to adjust to the upheaval. “What are you doing besides making a mess?”

Her forehead crinkled. “What does it look like? I’m getting us ready for Christmas. It’s Michelle’s first one.”

“So what?” he asked. “She’ll never remember it.” He shrugged, glad to note the absence of pain in his shoulder. But his heart twisted when he saw the hurt on her face. She pressed her lips together, came closer and clasped his arms. Then she looked straight up at him. Gazing into those soft green eyes, he felt himself begin to drown.

“I know Michelle won’t remember,” she whispered, “but the point is that you’ll remember. I’ll remember, too. You’ll take pictures and share them with her later on. You’ll build memories. Create photo albums. Like in a real family.” She waved toward the fridge. “See, you’ve already got pictures of her here and all over the house, like…like a real family is supposed to have of their children.”

She averted her gaze. A suspicion began to grow in Dan’s mind.

“Would this happen to be your first Christmas celebration, too?” he whispered.

A rosy blush blossomed from her neck to her face. “Let’s just say it will be my happiest one.”

Placing his finger under her chin, he said, “Look at me again.”

She slowly raised her eyes, and he was stunned at her shyness. So unusual for Alexis Brown.

“Then we’ll do it. We’ll have the biggest, merriest Christmas right here.” Not for the baby’s sake, but for Ally’s.

Ally, the woman he loved. Even if she didn’t love him—yet.

The warmth of her smile made his blood sizzle. Jumping her bones seemed like a great idea, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not at the moment, anyway. Instead, he tried to keep the conversational ball rolling.

“Fair warning, Ally. I’m way out of practice with all this stuff.” He gestured at the decorations.

Her bright expression turned to one of concern, and she patted his arm. “I think I understand. For a man who doesn’t have a picture of his wife on display anywhere except in his own bedroom, I can imagine you certainly didn’t have the heart for Christmas in recent years.”

He paused, confused. Where was she going with this? “What brought that up?”

“I wasn’t prying, Dan. I saw the portrait when I searched for your wallet,” Ally said.

Was the discovery of that picture related to Ally’s coolness last week? If so, how?

“When I saw it,” Ally continued, “I nearly passed out, and I certainly understood your family’s reaction
to meeting me. Then I wondered why I hadn’t seen any shots of her before. I wondered if I’d been unconsciously oblivious, so I searched the other rooms and…”

“And you found none because there aren’t any on display.” He pulled out a chair for Ally and sat down facing her. He took her hand. “Hiding family pictures wasn’t my call. It was Kim’s. As the cancer ripped through her, she couldn’t bear seeing herself from the good days, so—”

“So you put them all away.”

“Yeah, I did.”

She squeezed his hand.

“You were a wonderful husband,” she said.

“Not as wonderful as you are for putting up with everything.” He came with a lot of baggage that was still weighing him down. Right now, for example, with their talk about Kim’s illness, Ally had unknowingly ignited his trigger. He felt the urge, the beads of sweat beginning to break out on his skin.

He wanted a drink.

S
HE WATCHED HIM SNATCH
two chocolate-chip cookies from the tray, pour himself a tall glass of milk and down it without pause while standing at the refrigerator. Then, he bit into a cookie, the result of her very first attempt at baking. Stunned that he’d consider such frivolous carbs, she watched him chew, pause, then close his eyes—tasting and measuring—hopefully, savoring the flavor. When he finally swallowed and sighed with pleasure, a glow of satisfaction warmed her. Another first for her. She rarely cooked for others, but Dan’s appre
ciation made her think of trying other cookie recipes she’d found.