Touchdown (6 page)

“Ready?” Mindy asked her sister as they waited for their father to collect them to march down the aisle.

“Do I look okay?” Goldie asked her sister.

Mindy tried to wipe lipstick smudge off of Goldie's cheeks. “You look fine,” Mindy said.

Goldie shook her head. “I don't want my perfect day ruined for eternity by red cheeks—I've got to fix my makeup.” She stood up from the podium and walked in the opposite direction of their guests to the bride's suite. “Tell Daddy I'll be back in a sec.”

Mindy nodded. “All right. I'll be waiting for you,” she said, and rushed off to meet their father.

As she opened the door to her suite, Goldie heard the klezmer band begin the procession songs, warming up the crowd for her grand entrance down the aisle.

She made her way to the mirror and stared at her reflection in the mirror. I wish Mama were here to see you, Mindy had said.

Mama. Gone. Years of keeping their family together, all on Goldie's shoulders. Goldie squeezed her shoulder, as if feeling years of the burden all at once. “Do you think I miss you, Mama?” Goldie whispered. “I don't. I can do it all alone. Really.”

Goldie grabbed a tissue from the marble counter and slowly wiped her cheeks clear from all the love the guests had planted on her face. She was surprised to find the tissue moist, as it caught a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“I don't need you, Mama, do you hear me? I don't care that you aren't here for me on my wedding day!” She shocked herself with the words she'd been thinking when she verbalized what she felt.

“You don't mean that,” said the man in the white suit.

“Yes I do.” Goldie didn't even bother to turn around. She stared at the handsome man in the mirror. “Figured I'd see you here,” Goldie said.

“Your mother loves you and wants you to be happy,” he said.

“If she loved me, she wouldn't have left me,” Goldie replied.

The man moved close enough for Goldie to feel him beside her. Chills raced down her neck by his close proximity, and she suddenly panicked that in all the time she'd known Avner, she'd never once felt that way about him.

“You're still madly in love with me and want me to break up my wedding, right?”

The man laughed, and Goldie watched him through the mirror as he placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt a light touch, and suddenly, all the pain that she held in her shoulders lifted. She turned around to see him and their eyes locked.

“You can't marry Avner; he's not your soul mate.”

Now her face was close to his and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. She suddenly stepped back. “I'm engaged to a good man,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “He's a wonderful person, but he's not meant for you.”

Tears streamed down Goldie's face. “You're my subconscious, aren't you? I did learn about that in psych class. Nobody else sees you, I dream of you every night, and you seem to understand whatever I'm feeling . . . ”

The man smiled sadly and touched a tear as it spilled across her cheek. “I suppose you could say that I'm part of you.”

Goldie heard the wedding music get louder. “Unless I'm just totally crazy, in which case . . . ” Goldie's eyes widened and she said the words she never wanted to say: “In which case I am like my mother!”

She stared up at the man with the blue eyes. “You're right, I can't marry him! If I'm like my mother, I'll wreak nothing but havoc on Avner's life. I couldn't hurt him like that!” Sobbing, Goldie ran from the room and out of the hall. She ran onto the sidewalk, past onlookers walking their small dogs.

“Goldie! Wait!” She heard the man's voice, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.

“I can't do that to him!” she called back. “I can't do that to Mindy or my father!”

“Goldie, it's not like that. Come with me,” she heard him say.

“Stop talking!” she cried as she ran quickly in her heels, past Labradors and Dalmatians playfully trotting beside her. “I won't be a crazy woman like my mother and destroy anyone else. I'm not going to have a child only to leave her all alone on her wedding day!”

“Goldie! You have to stop, now!”

Goldie shook her head as she ran. “Get out of my head, you handsome man!” She ran until she passed an apartment building, where she sat down in the adjacent alleyway and sobbed. She heard the barking sounds of dogs in the distance and noticed how dirty her beautiful silk gown had become from her jaunt.

“Goldie?” She heard the faint calls of Mindy, her father, and Avner.

She stood up in the alleyway. Even if she couldn't go through with the wedding, she had to explain why.

The sounds of barking dogs grew louder. “I'm here, people,” Goldie said, as she tried to wipe her face clean. She hoped she didn't look as messy and out of control as she felt. She noticed the alley growing dark around her and she walked toward the street entrance to flag down her family.

“Goldie!” She heard the faint sounds of her name, but she couldn't see her family through the darkness. Instead, she heard the low-pitched growl of what looked to be stray dogs approaching.

At first she saw one small Chihuahua barking beside her, but then noticed half a dozen pit bulls were running at her, and behind them—a pack of dogs of all types and breeds.

She froze.

The man in the white suit appeared beside her. “Goldie, stay put. Don't move and you'll be fine.”

She wanted to trust him, but then a crowd of German shepherds lunged at her as they barked loudly. Instinct kicked in and she started to run.

“Goldie, don't!” the man shouted, but she couldn't listen and ran instead into the street. She heard her family calling to her but couldn't see them.

It took only a moment for her to realize she was standing in middle of a busy thoroughfare as she watched a huge Mack truck speeding straight at her. By the time she looked up, it was too late.

Clay focused on the ball. He had one shot to get it in the end zone. The crowd was deafening as Clay held his breath. Where's Leigh? Is she watching? Focus.

He smelled the fear on his team—this play would make it or break it for them and he couldn't let them down. The pressure was overwhelming.

Maybe Leigh was sitting beside his parents in the stands. His parents . . . he knew he had to make them proud.

“Just play the game like we play back home,” Leigh had said before the game. Focus. But his shoulder hurt—bad—from the last tackle. Was it sprained? He tried not to give in to the pain. When Leigh had his back, Clay knew he could do anything.

Sweat dripped down his face. Coach would love him like a son or hate him like a traitor, depending on how it went. What would Leigh say? He felt her rooting for him, felt her encouraging him . . . Focus.

The sounds of the stadium were deafening. He was five yards out of the end zone and the score was twelve to seventeen with less than twenty seconds left on the clock. He gazed at Brooks, and instinctively he threw the ball. This one's for you, Leigh.

He held his breath for a moment, though it felt like eternity as he watched the ball hurtle through the air.

Brooks caught it, with one second to spare! Touchdown!

The crowd went wild as a crushing roar filled the stadium. His teammates converged on him with unbridled joy; he was their hero, and some of them could sign with an NFL agent over this game. Maybe a scout would pick him.

He scanned the crowd to see if he could find Leigh, but felt disappointed when he didn't.

Carolyn ran over to him, her blonde curls bouncing as she jumped on his wounded shoulder. “Claybear!” she cheered, holding him tight. “You were awesome!”

His parents came by, too, and his dad smacked his shoulder hard. “Good job, son!” he said. Clay's shoulder now throbbed like crazy, but he didn't say anything.

Coach gave him the thumbs-up and it felt great being the hero everybody wanted him to be. He just wondered where the heck Leigh was, and when they could hang out and celebrate together away from the crowd.

Victory was in the air and the team decided to relocate its frenzied cheering and drinking to the frat house.

Clay finally spotted Leigh on the field, talking to second-stringer Thomas Booth.
Why would she talk to him?
he wondered, and noticed Thomas smiling at her like she was available. Which, he supposed, she was.

He watched Leigh smile back at Thomas and felt a knot tighten in his gut. All the cheering in the stadium couldn't replace the sheer panic he felt at the possibility that one day, Leigh might be with some other guy, and not be there for him. Clay watched them laugh together and realized he was jealous.

“Hey, are y'all coming to the party?” Clay walked over and interrupted their conversation.

Leigh shrugged. “Great game, Clay, but you know frat parties aren't my scene.”

Thomas nodded. “You could skip out with me,” he said.

Clay grabbed Leigh's hand. “No, she's busy,” he said and abruptly led her alongside him.

“What's up?” she said as they walked to his Jeep. “Why'd you scare off Thomas?”

“No reason,” he said. “Just thought you should come to the party.”

Leigh's eyes widened. “Why? I was planning on getting a ride home with your parents.”

He shrugged.

“You think I'll fit in with your friends?”

“Like you fit with Thomas?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Lets enjoy the win. Okay?”

• • •

The bass was thumping so loud it seemed that the house was dancing as Clay pulled into the driveway. He noticed that Leigh wasn't saying much.

“You all right, Leigh?”

Leigh brushed her bangs out of her eyes and nodded as she got out of the car. “Sure, I'm fine.” She glanced at Clay. “But are you sure I should be here? I don't really know your college friends.”

“It's fine. They'll love you.”

Leigh bit her nails. “And what you were telling me before—you sure this is the right time to break it off with Carolyn?”

Clay shrugged and slammed his car door. “Why not?”

Leigh looked at the college kids spilling out of the house, red cups of beer in their hands. They stumbled onto the immaculate lawn and promptly downed their drinks.

“It's a party, Clay. You're going to ruin it for Carolyn if you break up with her in front of all her friends. Why, you might as well just text her.”

“Hey, I didn't think of that.” Clay perked up. “That's not a bad idea.”

“I was being sarcastic.” Leigh shook her head. “You can't break up with someone by texting. Clayton Harper, you're truly a hopeless case.”

Clay laughed. “Chill, Leigh. I'm going to let her down gently. No way I'm going to continue going out with a woman I don't love.”

Leigh nodded. “If you say so.”

Clay didn't even bother ringing the doorbell—it was so loud, what difference would it have made—and opened the door.

The crowd of people was overwhelming. Way too many football players in one room; they swarmed and pulsed to the music like one single mass. Clay knew Leigh was uncomfortable, and he guessed she fought the urge to run away from the crowd. He suddenly thought that maybe it hadn't been a great idea to take Leigh to this party after all. But Austin spotted Clay and walked over.

“Clay! My man! Awesome game!” Austin gave Clay a bear hug, his beer sloshing out of the cup. Clay grinned as his teammate stumbled on his words. “Whoa, epic, man! That throw totally made the whole friggin' game! Noooo—the whole friggin' season!”

Clay nodded sheepishly. “Thanks, bro.”

Leigh stood to the side, looking uncomfortable.

“Hey, man, we'll catch you later.” Clay slapped Austin's back and led Leigh through the clumps of partygoers toward the kitchen. He secured a can of beer from a cooler and popped it open. “Here you go, Leigh. It'll help you loosen up.”

Leigh shrugged. “Clay, I don't usually drink much, you know that.”

Clay's blue eyes bored through her. “You don't usually go to parties either.”

Leigh tentatively took a sip.

He watched her carefully while drinking from his own can. “So, you good? If any drunk guys bother you, you'll know how to handle it?”

Leigh nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, Clay, don't you worry. You know I can take care of myself. You got a girl to break up with. I'll be waiting right here for you.”

• • •

“Clayton!” A high-pitched squeal drowned out Leigh's words as Carolyn held out her arms and jumped on Clay. Usually he would swing her around but this time he held her gingerly and put her down.

“Hey,” he said.

Carolyn's face glowed with uncontainable energy. Her glossy ponytail had been taken out, and her golden hair fell in soft waves down her back. There was no girl in the room who could compete with her natural beauty.

“Clay! What you did out there was just incredible!” She held his arm and squeezed. “I mean my dad was saying that if you keep on playing like that you'll for sure get to the pros! It's going to be such an amazing journey.”

Clay didn't remove her arm.

Carolyn continued. “That play, it was like the angels up in the heaven were singing! I am so happy for you, Clay. For us!” She ran her manicured nails through Clay's sandy hair and pressed a hand to his cheek. “We are all so proud, you know.” She inched closer to Clay and leaned in for a kiss.

“Uh . . . actually, Carolyn . . . ”

On a good day, Carolyn had little concept of personal space or boundaries, but Clay realized that when she was a tipsy, she had none.

Carolyn proceeded to sit on Clay's lap and continued talking. “The big leagues! The N.F.L!” she gasped. “I mean, Clay, it's going to be like a dream come true! It's going to be such an adventure. I can't wait!”