Hail Mary (23 page)

Calleigh’s face fell.

“Why would you say something like that?” Calleigh asked, her eyes full of hurt, her throat swallowing as if she were struggling against emotions wedged there.

“Calleigh,” Mary reached across the table to grab her hand. She felt her friend’s slight tug as if she intended to pull it away. Mary squeezed her hand trying to reassure her. “So, this is all about him,” Mary commented, softening her tone.

“Maybe.”

“Calleigh. Don’t hide from me.”

“Well, now I don’t want to tell you anything because you’re clearly biased against him.”

“Of course I’m not his biggest fan, Calleigh. Last I remember, he hurt you. A lot. For no apparent reason.”

“Yeah, except back then you tried to defend him and thought there had to be some explanation for his behavior.”

“Is there?”

“Is there what?”

“Is there an explanation for how he hurt you when you asked him out?” Mary challenged. “How rude he was to you?”

Calleigh expelled a long sigh then forcibly extracted her hand from Mary’s grip and crossed her arms across her chest. “Never mind. I should have known this was a bad idea.”

Mary’s lips slowly separated. “Calleigh, that’s not fair.”

“You’re not being fair.”

Mary took a deep breath and tried to steer this conversation back on course.

“Let’s start over, ok,” Mary tried, attempting to placate Calleigh and reach the root of the discussion.

“Will you promise to withhold your judgment?” Calleigh asked.

“I’ll do my best. I’m Irish so it’s not the easiest feat for me to accomplish, but for you my dear, I’ll work on it,” Mary promised with a wink.

The sandwiches they’d ordered arrived and they both tucked into their respective orders with gusto. After a few bites, Mary said, “Hit me.”

Calleigh looked up as though she was contemplating where and how to start.

“Earlier this week, after one of our soccer games, I decided to meet up with everyone afterwards. I arrived late and realized David was also there. It was one of the smaller groups I’ve been to--I think there were only eight of us there in total.” Calleigh paused to wash her bites of ham and cheese down with some water before resuming. “I ignored him all during dinner because you know, at that point, I was completely convinced he was a grade A asshole.”

“And he’s not?” Mary raised her right eyebrow, not completely successful at restraining her skepticism.

“No, he is not an asshole. At least he hasn’t been with me. But we’re jumping ahead. Let me finish. After dinner, I left the restaurant and began walking home when I heard him call my name. I was like, yeah, whatever, and kept walking. He eventually caught up to me, we argued a little bit back and forth, and then he kissed me!” Calleigh had raised her voice at the end, prompting their surrounding patrons to glance at the table and smile to themselves.

Mary’s eyebrows shot up. “And?”

“Okay, nothing more happened after the kiss. At least, not that night.”

“And the kiss was….”

“The kiss was spectacular. Outstanding. Incredible. Deep and lush, just this side of rough. It was, in fact, perfect. So perfect, in fact, I was pissed when he left me standing there in the middle of street, ready to go and with no one to go there with.”

“It sounds like quite a kiss,” Mary allowed.

“Yes it was. Okay, he then asked me over to his house for dinner, a surprisingly nice house, a little bungalow on the east side, by the way. Dinner was great. When we were about to continue what we’d started on the sidewalk, we got into a minor fight.”

“About what?”

“Nothing,” she murmured, averting her eyes and taking a long drink of her water before continuing. “It’s not important. I returned home again and thought okay, clearly we were never meant to be. The next night he shows up at my house.”

Calleigh paused as if waiting for her to respond in some way, but Mary kept her gaze direct, wanting to give her friend a chance to convince her this guy was worth Calleigh’s time.

“And it couldn’t have been a worse time. Unless I’d been ragging it. That would have been worse. I’d come directly home from a soccer game and hadn’t jumped into the shower. Anyway, he’s there with this paper bag. And in it, he brought ice cream.”

“I guess he doesn’t realize how much you deprive yourself of sugar, does he?” Mary commented.

As Calleigh filled in the rest of the details, skimming over the more personal ones, Mary contemplated her. “You know,” Mary began, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever witnessed you eat something without first commenting on its caloric and fat content. It suits you. It’s good. It’s normal.”

“Alright, so, the sex is fabulous, but what is David
like
?
”
Mary asked, wanting to know about the man who was alternatingly responsible for tying her best friend up in knots and making her happier than Mary had ever known her. Any man that could get Calliegh to eat was alright in Mary’s book.

“He’s…. smart. And a good cook. He made this amazing shrimp dish the night I went to his house for dinner.”

“Based on the way you described him, I wouldn’t have taken him for a cook,” Mary replied.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have taken him for a lot of things,” Calleigh remarked, looking down at her plate with nary a breadcrumb in sight.

Mary tilted her head to the side and studied her. “What does that mean, Calleigh?”

Calleigh’s flush was fast and furious, spreading up from her chest to bloom all across her throat and neck.

“Er, nothing,” she quickly responded, draining her entire full glass of water in one single guzzle.

Maybe her friend shouldn’t have forsaken the glass of wine the waitress had tried to push on both of them when they’d first sat down.

“Calleigh. Talk to me.”

In halting terms, quiet tones, and averted eyes, Calleigh told her what being in bed with David was like.

“So?” Calleigh asked after she’d finished.

“So, what?” Mary internally chuckled at her best friend. “David’s into some things you haven’t tried before. If the look on your face yesterday and today is any indication, I’d say whatever you two are doing is working fine for you. Am I wrong?”

“No, but it’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

Mary shook her head. Despite Calleigh’s legion of boyfriends and dating experience, she was still unsure of herself, her needs, her wants, her desires, and sought reassurance. That combination in her friend always amazed Mary.

“Calleigh, David hasn’t done anything you haven’t wanted, right?”

“No.”

“And you’re a consenting adult, right?”

“Last time I checked my driver’s license, yes.”

“What’s the problem? Honestly, a lot of people are into alternative avenues in sexuality. If you’re enjoying it and on board, who cares?”

Calleigh shrugged her shoulders. “But what does it say about me as a woman if I let him dominate me the way he does?”

“It doesn’t say anything other than the fact it excites both of you,” Mary reassured her. “It doesn’t mean you’re not smart, you’re not strong, or you’re not independent. You’re all those things. And besides? The way people behave in the bedroom has no impact on how they conduct the rest of their lives.”

“Really?” Calleigh’s hope was in her eyes.

Then Mary clearly understand her friend needed this. Needed to hear from another person who cared for her and respected her that she wasn’t a freak, wasn’t weak, and what she was doing with David was alright.

“Really. I mean, whatever goes on between you and David is between you and David. No one else. It’s no one else’s business. Besides,” Mary wiggled her eyebrows, “I think it sounds kind of sexy.”

“You do?”

Mary nodded her head. “I do. I’ve never had BDSM fantasies, but there’s something exciting about the idea of giving up control to your man and letting him control the action, where all you have to do is respond.”

“I take it Michael hasn’t asked to tie you up then?” Calleigh teased.

A gentle ease settled around the table. Mary knew they both were grateful the conversation, despite its rocky beginning, had turned out the way it had. They’d been friends for years. Each of them depended on the other’s acceptance and reassurance as the balm for the worries that would plague them through relationships and life.

Mary felt the tension in her own face for a moment at the question concerning Michael. She paused before she responded. “Uh, no. No, he hasn’t. If he wanted to, I’d do it.”

“By the way, guess what?”

“What?”

“David works for the Tide. He’s their general manager.”

“That’s right. I think you mentioned that before. Michael’s never mentioned him but he doesn’t talk about management or anything that doesn’t involve his teammates or his coaches.”

“Things are going well for the two of you then? When am I going to have the opportunity to spend more than five minutes with him outside the presence of teenagers?” Calleigh asked.

“In answer to your first question, yes, things are going well. He’s….terrific, in fact, and I think we’re a good team. In response to your second question, I’m not sure. He’s busy right now since they’re gearing up to hopefully make it to the playoffs. The time we spend together, he’s usually tired. And I kind of like having him to myself right now, if you want to know the truth.”

Calleigh had been nodding her head as Mary spoke. “Oh yeah. I feel the same way about David. As though you don’t want to share your time with him at all. Maybe in awhile after things settle down for everyone and our hormones, we can get our respective men together off the field.”

“It’s a date.”

~ * ~ * ~

Michael had not been exaggerating when he referred to Leslie Murray’s house as “serious.” As in “serious cash.” Or maybe “serious size.” Or perhaps, “seriously beautiful.” It was all those and then some.

“Welcome, welcome,” the linebacker greeted the two of them when they rolled up his long and lushly lined driveway before moving to envelop Mary’s hands in one of his. Michael immediately frowned at him and tugged Mary to his side once they were through the doorway and in the foyer.

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but your home is spectacular,” Mary complimented Murray as she and Michael followed him through the house and into the most incredible, gourmet kitchen she’d ever seen outside the pages of glossy magazines. It was all modern comfort, done in a beautifully masculine way. The warm, sunny kitchen was huge, so huge that Mary was convinced her entire apartment could fit inside it. Maybe Michael’s condo could too.

“I may have heard that a time or two, but it’s kind of like hearing how handsome I am. I never tire of hearing it,” Murray stated, winking at her and moving to his refrigerator.

“Your drink selections tonight include a chilled 2007 California Chardonnay, a 2005 Pinot Noir from one of the wineries in McMinnville, Stella Artois or Widmer Hefeweizen if your tastes run to beer. I also have scotch, whiskey, rum, vodka, tequila and more mixers than you’ve ever seen outside a professional bar. What will it be?” Murray asked them both, ever the gracious host. “And Santiago, so help me God, if you select frickin’ ice water instead of any of my esteemed offerings, this is going to be the last time I ever invite you over.”

“I won’t speak for Michael, but I’d love a Stella please,” Mary stated, continuing to appreciate the luxurious kitchen all around her.

“One Stella for the lady, coming right up. Santiago, you made a choice yet or am I going to have to beat your ass tomorrow on the field?” Murray opened up the side refrigerator to withdraw a freshly chilled Stella glass and began pouring, the frozen glass causing the beer to chill and froth up at the top of the glass.

“I’ll have what Mary’s having, I guess,” Michael agreed, moving to stand next to her at Murray’s granite kitchen island.

“Yo, yo, yo, we’re here,” a loud, booming voice sounding as though it was from Darth Vader’s son carried from the front of the house. In walked three of the biggest men Mary had ever seen in real life. She picked Campbell out immediately with his crutches. Behind him was a dark-skinned man with lots of curly black hair and hazel eyes full of mischief who was decked out for more of a fancy dinner complete with grey dress pants, black sweater and black top coat. Rodriguez. That meant the final musketeer was Turner, who looked like twenty miles of bad road in his black leather jacket, distressed jeans, biker boots, and general pissed off air. Turner actually kind of reminded her of Michael.

“Well, well, well. You don’t look like you play for the Tide,” Rodriguez drawled, sidling right up to Mary and Michael, planting himself in front of them, reaching for Mary’s right hand before he placed a warm kiss on it. Mary laughed, loving the flirtatious attention even while Michael immediately stiffened at her side and drew her even closer than before. Murray was showing off his sleek refrigerator and other kitchen gadgets to Turner and Campbell while Rodriguez focused his attention on Mary and Michael.

“I don’t play, but I love to watch the Tide when I can. Mary Richardson,” she stated.

Rodriguez inclined his head towards Michael’s glowering puss. “You with this guy?” he asked, his tone full of good humor.

“I am,” Mary proudly stated, putting her arms around Michael’s taut waist and leaning into his chest, prompting him to put his arms all the way around her.

“Shoot. I never knew Santiago had a girl. Didn’t think any woman could put up with such a mean SOB,” Rodriguez lamented, turning his back to be a part of the drink action.

“Shut up, Rodriguez,” Campbell instructed, placing his crutches on the side of the dining room chairs. “You’re jealous because no decent woman will have your sorry ass.”

“Oh, really. That a fact, Gimp Boy? Last I checked, I wasn’t the one who hadn’t been able to land a date in five years.”

“Earth to Rodriguez: It isn’t a date when you have to pay the woman to go out with you,” Campbell volleyed back, settling himself in on the chair while Murray poured him a Hefeweizen.

Rodriguez blew his lips together as though to say, “as if” when Turner jumped into the fray.

“No shit,” Turner growled, his lips pulled back to reveal stunning white teeth at odds with his surly expression. Nothing that beautiful should be delivering such nasty words. “No woman in her right mind would have anything to do with you without getting paid. And getting paid handsomely for it.”