Читать книгу A Husband for All Seasons - Irene Brand - Страница 11

After three days of loneliness, anxiety and indecision, Chad finally called the manager of his NFL team.

“How are you, Chad?” the manager asked. “Your father notified us when you were released from the hospital, but he didn’t have a phone number for you.”

“I didn’t feel like talking when I was in the hospital and I’ve only been released a few days. And thanks for the roses—they sure brightened up the room.”

“We wanted you to know we were thinking about you.”

“Well, what’s the bad news?” Chad asked, pacing the floor but trying to sound nonchalant. “I think I know, but I’ll make it easy on you and ask.”

The man hesitated, and the seconds seemed like hours to Chad. “It’s the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life, but we have no choice except to release you from your contract.”

Bile rose in Chad’s mouth, and he felt as if a mule had kicked him in the stomach. He had feared this decision was inevitable, but hearing it from the manager’s mouth drove the final nail in the coffin of his dead hopes. He wasn’t a crybaby, so he forced himself to say cheerfully, “Well, it was a great life while it lasted. And I’m thankful that you guys gave me the opportunity.”

“I’ve never understood why bad things happen to good people, but somewhere down the road, we’ll know the answer.”

“That may be true,” Chad said, and he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice. “But I’m going to need some answers before I regain the unquestioning faith I used to have.”

Chad laid aside the phone and leaned against the wall. He couldn’t even envision a life without football. But now that he knew with finality that he would never play pro ball again, he had to come to terms with the future. He paced the floor of the room, annoyed because he kept dwelling on his bad fortune rather than on the many things he had going for him.

Financially Chad was worth several million dollars so his livelihood was no problem, but he wasn’t comfortable with so much money. He was heavily insured, so no doubt the expensive surgery wouldn’t cost him anything. And if he remembered, the insurance company would be responsible for compensation for several months after his operation. His father managed a grocery store, and his mother had stayed home to look after her son. They couldn’t afford any luxuries for themselves or for Chad. If he wanted anything extra he had to make the money to buy it. How well he remembered his teen years when he had worked one whole summer to earn enough money to buy a bicycle! Then he received his NFL signing bonus. Suddenly, he was rich.

Instead of going on a spending spree, he went to a reputable investment broker for advice. He invested the majority of his signing bonus. He put a million dollars in an account for his parents, enabling Mr. Reece to retire from the store with a good income over and above his Social Security. Chad’s lifestyle didn’t change that much. He knew what was important in life—and it wasn’t material possessions.

He made more money on his investments than he ever spent. So why couldn’t he be thankful that he had no financial worries instead of fretting over his disrupted plans? In twenty-five years he’d had more opportunities than most people did in a lifetime. So what was his problem?

He could find work without any trouble. But was it right for him to take a job that another man probably needed to support his family? Would it be more charitable to invest his money in a business that would employ other people? There were lots of questions, Chad decided, but no satisfactory answers.

One major question filtered through Chad’s mind. After it seemed that God had offered him life on a silver platter, why was it suddenly snatched away? Was he mad at God? Chad feared that this was the root of his present dissatisfaction. Even admitting the possibility of such an attitude lowered his self-esteem and Chad’s faith was stretched to the breaking point. This was an issue that could only be settled between him and God.

In the meantime, he had a life to live. He called a taxi and rode into the center of Columbus’s business district on High Street. He got out of the cab in front of the capitol, wondering why the dome was so stubby. Had the founding fathers of the state run out of money before they completed the dome? He sat on the stone wall that surrounded the capitol’s lawn, watching and listening to the steady drone of traffic along the city’s main thoroughfare.

After living for two years in Pittsburgh, Chad still wasn’t accustomed to big cities. His small Alabama town could be set down in the space occupied by Columbus’s large financial district, but he didn’t feel as crowded here as he did in most cities. Chad felt no urge to do anything, but eventually he stirred, walked a half block and crossed the street.

He went into a bank—the same corporation that he used in Pittsburgh and arranged for a transfer of funds.

From an ATM machine, he withdrew some cash for his immediate needs. He walked a block to a department store, using his credit cards, purchased a jacket, two knit shirts, slacks, a pair of dress shoes, heavy socks and running shoes. With the sweats and the underwear his mother had purchased, he could manage until he decided what to do with his personal things in Pittsburgh.

He caught a taxi back to his hotel, where he found a message waiting from Mrs. Lashley. He could move into the apartment at his convenience. Seeing no reason to pay another night’s hotel bill, Chad dialed Vicky’s number.

When three days passed, and Vicky hadn’t heard from Chad, she started wondering if she would ever see him again. She didn’t recognize the number on her Caller ID when the phone rang.

“Hello,” Chad said. “Is the Lanham Taxi Service operating today?”

“It is until noon when the proprietor has to go to work.” She laughed. “Where do you want to go?”

“To my apartment. Mrs. Lashley left word that it’s ready.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour. Can you be packed by then?”

“I’m packed. I bought some new things today, and they’re still in the plastic bags. I bought a duffel bag for my other clothes.”

“What about bathroom and kitchen supplies? Since you probably don’t feel up to shopping, I’ll pick up some towels, soap and other things you’ll need. I’ll get some bread and milk for you, too.”

His cheerful laugh thrilled Vicky. It was a good sign that he was starting to heal emotionally as well as physically. “I hadn’t given that any thought. My housekeeper kept my Pittsburgh apartment supplied, but I intend to get along without a housekeeper now. It would be great of you to buy those things. I appreciate it.”

“OK. Then I’ll see you soon.”

Vicky had been moping around for several days, but the surge of adrenaline she received after Chad’s call turned her into a dynamo. She quickly gathered the things she would need for work and hurried out to the car.

“God,” she whispered before she turned the ignition key. “Am I really getting the opportunity to help Chad Reece? He’s a famous, wealthy man, and when he’s well again, he’ll probably go back to his old friends and forget all about me. I must not expect more from him than he’s willing to give.”

Was God calling her to serve Chad? She started to think this might be so when the tense expression on Chad’s handsome face relaxed into a smile when he saw her.

With an answering smile, she asked, “Anybody looking for a taxi?”

“Yes, one poor vagrant.”

“Let’s go then.” She picked up his duffel bag. “I’d better take this.”

“It embarrasses me to have you carrying the heavy items, but I think the duffel bag weighs more than I’m allowed to lift for another week.”

During the short drive to Neil Avenue, Chad told her about the call from his manager and about his shopping trip during the morning. After he got the key from his landlady, she helped him upstairs with his luggage and the supplies she’d bought for him, then said, “I’ve got to go now.”

“I don’t even know where you work. I’ve spent too much time talking about myself, rather than listening to you.”

“I work in a bookstore on High Street near the OSU campus. My parents think I’m wasting my time, and I guess I am, but I make enough to pay the rent, my food and gasoline. That’s all I want now.”

“Will you be finished in time to have dinner with me tonight?”

“That depends on what time you want to eat. I work until seven o’clock.”

“That’s all right with me. Will you drive by and pick me up? I don’t know the town yet. You choose a restaurant. I’ll be watching for you—just blow the horn.”

Vicky would have preferred to go home and shower before she picked Chad up for dinner, but she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She went to the restroom and checked her appearance in the mirror on the door before she left the store.

She wore a pair of knit pull-on black pants and a light pink sweatshirt with a white collar. Not very dressy, but at least the color of the shirt complemented her creamy skin and brought out the rosy tint of her cheeks. She pulled a comb through her hair, hitched her bag over her shoulder and hurried out to the parking lot. Chad was sitting on the porch banister waiting for her when she reached his apartment house.

He was dressed in a white knit skirt and black trousers, and Vicky was pleased. Having left his casual clothes behind might indicate that Chad was looking forward instead of backward.

She chose a family-type restaurant not far from their apartments. From talking to Chad’s parents, and also from his own comments, she knew that, in spite of his rise to fame in professional sports, he still had the simple tastes of an Alabama boy who had grown up in a small town atmosphere.

A waiter showed them to a corner booth and took their beverage orders. Chad commented on the antique cooking and farm implements arranged on high shelves around the ceiling. “Reminds me of home,” he said.

Vicky noted the wistful look in his eyes and knew that he wasn’t as relaxed and cheerful as he seemed. When the waitress arrived with their glasses of iced tea, she ordered a pasta salad.

“I really like the pasta dishes here,” she said to Chad, “but all of the food is good.” To the waitress, she added, “And I want a piece of French silk pie for dessert.”

“I have an appetite today, the first time since I had the accident.” He ordered a steak, baked potato and some broccoli florets in cheese sauce.

While he was deciding on a salad, Vicky said, “This restaurant is noted for its coleslaw.”

“I’ll take a side of that, too,” he told the waitress. While they sipped on tea, Chad said, “I’ll have to be careful of what I eat. Now that I won’t be going to the gym every day, it will probably be easy for me to gain a lot of weight.”

“How much do you weigh now?”

“I’ve tried to stay at two hundred pounds. I’m quicker on my feet at that weight.” Thoughtfully, he added, “I’ve often wondered if I might get heavier in middle age as many men do, but now that I know Perry is my biological father, I don’t think I will. At least, I’ll be happy if I look like he does when I’m his age.”

“You will,” Vicky assured him.

“I suppose I’m already healing,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt me to face the fact that he’s my father now.”

“You had too many traumatic things hurled at you in a short time. Now that you’re healing physically, your emotions will shape up, too.”

“But what about you? You hinted that you understood how I felt because you’d had a similar experience. You listened to me. It’s your turn now.”

Vicky hesitated. How could she confide in Chad? She believed he had a good opinion of her now, and she didn’t want to change that.

“It really isn’t much compared to what you’ve faced. I’d just as soon not talk about it now. Tell me about your life in Alabama. I’ve lived in Columbus all of my life, and I don’t know much about small town life.”

“You haven’t traveled much?”

“No. I have relatives who live in Florida, but they usually come here to visit us. The longest I’ve been away from home was when I volunteered for Red Cross duty in Southern West Virginia during a bad flood. I thought when I was growing up that God had called me into a life of service and that seemed a good way to find out if I had the right stuff to be a missionary.”

“I was a Boy Scout and I helped in Southern Louisiana after a hurricane once. What I saw there showed me how fortunate I was. What incidents made an impression on you?”

As Vicky related how she had watched her coworker, Amelia Stone, rescue a stranded child from an overflowing creek, Chad realized what a wonderful companion Vicky was.

Vicky paused, puzzled by Chad’s intent stare. At his sudden question, she wondered if he’d been listening to her flood adventures at all.

“I suppose I should have considered this before I invited you out for dinner, but are you dating anyone?”

“No, not now.”

“Good. I suddenly realized that I might be causing you a problem by asking you to spend so much time with me. I’m not dating anyone, either. Since I turned pro I’ve been cautious about women. Too many athletes are set up for compromising situations and get sued. I’ve avoided that by not keeping company with anyone.”

Vicky concealed her amusement, but she wondered why he didn’t consider her a threat. Didn’t she exhibit enough femininity to attract him? Then again, that suited her just fine. She had been burned twice in relationships and she didn’t want any more involvement. Finding out how Chad felt, she concluded that her decision to let him take the leadership in their companionship was a wise one.

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner, chatting about their high school years. Vicky found Chad easy to talk to, and when she took him home, he said, “I’ve enjoyed the evening. Let’s do this again soon.”

“All right,” she said lightly. “Give me a call. The Lanham Taxi Service aims to please.”

Chad settled into his new apartment and within a few days he felt at home. Although he wasn’t much of a cook, he existed on what he could prepare. He had no communication with his landlady. She apparently confined her activities to the first floor.