Blitzed(72)

"Actually, I'd like to talk to Laurie. You spent a lot of time today coloring at the Gallery. Think you can you show me your pictures?"

She moves off Mom's lap so that Mom can leave the living room, but she doesn't say anything. I go over and sit down next to her, taking her hand. "Laurie? Can I ask you something? Are you angry with me?”

She barely moves her head, but the tiny nod she gives me nearly breaks my heart. "Mama wants to understand. Please help me understand. I know that sometimes, kids don't always say things that are troubling them, and I was hoping that you might be able to show me. I thought your pictures could help. Could they?"

Laurie nods again, and I slide off the couch, getting on my knees in front of her. "I promise, no matter what you drew, I won't get mad, and I won't raise my voice or yell or anything like that. I want us to not be angry, to be good together again."

Laurie nods and gets off the couch, going over to the chair where she'd put her little school bag and bringing it back. "Don't be mad, Mama," she said in the tiniest voice I've ever heard her use as she unzips the bag and takes out the sheaf of papers inside. She hands them to me, and I see the top one, a man in a black shirt and white pants, wearing a black helmet and a number 51 on the front. The second is another giant 51, and the third brings tears to my eyes as the three stick figures that make up the family—the man and little girl with blond hair, the woman with auburn—are separated, frowns and tears rolling down their faces.

"Oh, Laurie," I moan, putting the papers aside. "Mama has been so foolish."

I pull her close, hugging her. "I want Daddy back.”

"I want him too, Laurie. I need him too."





Chapter 26





Troy





"Troy Wood! We love you!"

I look up as I leave the practice facility to see the group of fans that have assembled around the gates. We've won two of our last three games, and the way the team is rolling, we've got a chance at maybe making the playoffs. With the success comes the fans again, and apparently, I'm becoming a sex symbol in Jacksonville, because for the past two weeks, I can barely leave the stadium without having women almost throwing themselves at me. Actually, one woman did throw herself at me, hurling herself into my arms after the team got back from a road win at New York.

The guy I used to be would’ve been loving it. They are Florida girls, after all, sun tanned and bikini toned, and they are lined up when I occasionally pause to sign autographs. It's part of my tradeoff with the team. They keep the league off my ass other than the fines for my arm tape, and in return, I sign more autographs and do some more photo ops.

The problem is, the last thing I want to do is a photo op. I know when I've looked at them in the paper later, the look in my eyes is that the last place I want to be in the world is taking the photo, which isn't fair to the groups. It's not that I don't appreciate fire fighters, or the Make-A-Wish foundation and what they do, but other than learning the Jacksonville system, I don’t want to be anywhere but home. The rest of the world just seems . . . not worth the trouble or the effort, and it’s too painful to boot.

"You’re turning into a recluse," I mutter to myself as I get into my now-leased Caddy and drive home. In probably the only move that in hindsight surprises me, I went all in on my house, buying a four-bedroom house on the outskirts of Jacksonville, one with a pool, a garage, and plenty of space, all on a full acre of land, which, while not huge compared to what some of the guys have, sets me back a pretty penny. Even if the price of land isn't all that over the top in the Jacksonville area, especially when compared to the current land rush in the Seattle area, a restricted access subdivision and a lakeside lot are pretty expensive.

I know why I did it, though. I had been thinking of Whitney and Laurie when I went with the agent to see the property. I had seen a room for Laurie, and space where I could put up a play set for her. I saw another room that we could use as a home office, and even a spare for a nursery, and a master bedroom that I would be able to share with Whitney. I saw a fantasy, and I let my fantasy guide my decision.

Ah well, at least the price isn't unmanageable. Ironically, my play for the team has led to me making even more money than I was making in Seattle, even after the fines, because I've picked up a few bonuses that the team has in place for good performance. Two interceptions, a touchdown, and once getting League Defensive Player of the Week have more than covered the fines from the front office.

I turn onto the Interstate, leaving the stadium area behind to make the twenty-minute drive to my house. While I'm driving, I get a call on my phone, so I drop it into the slot on the dash of my car to connect it to the in-car system. "Hello?"

"Troy? It's Cory. How are you doing in Florida?"

"I'm okay, Cory. How's San Fran?"

"Much better since the Hawks still suck ass," Cory says with a laugh. "One win. One f*cking win, and it's only going to get worse. Now we just have to worry about Arizona."

"Maybe, but don't gloat too much. I still have a lot of friends on that team, remember?"

Cory sobers and clears his throat. "You're right, sorry. Anyway, I wanted to call because there was an actual withdrawal on that account you asked me to set up for Laurie. The fifteen hundred dollars a week account?"