Reye's Gold (36 page)

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe you could use some help dragging
your soccer gear over to the field before the game.”

As excuses went, it wasn’t great, but he continued
wearing that smile, so it worked. “I also brought you
some coffee.” He held up a cup of Starbucks close to the
door for her to see. “Your favorite, a tall white chocolate
mocha with whip.” Okay, so he’d remembered her
favorite drink. Opening the door fully, she stepped back,
allowing him entrance. “Come in. You caught me just
getting out of the shower, so could you wait here while I
change?” She closed the front door behind him, taking a
few steps toward her room before turning around,
walking back to him and taking the coffee from his hand.
“Thank you,” she said, heading to her room.

“This was so not a good thing Reye, you can’t just roll
over and play dead whenever you see him,” she said to
her weaker self. “I know,” her weaker self replied to the
s
tronger self, who didn’t always stick around when she needed her. Hurriedly she put on her shorts, shirt, socks,
and tennis shoes. She had gotten the soccer balls and
small cones that made up her training gear together and
had loaded them into the truck last night. All that
remained to be added were the water and sports drinks.

“Hey, Stephen,” she called out from her room. She
walked into her closet in search of her cap.

“You called,” he replied, leaning into the doorframe,
a forearm on each side of the door. She turned to see him
standing at the entrance of her bedroom door and it
brought forth a rush of memories of times spent with
him in this room. He would sometimes follow her when she went in search of something, and it always led to a
minor delay for them both. When she’d turned and
found him standing there, for a moment she just stared
at him, processing some of those memories. It took a
couple of seconds for her to pull it together. The smile he
had worn when she called him had turned into something else entirely, maybe matching the desire she was
sure was evident on her face.

“Would you grab that ice chest in the kitchen and put
it in my truck. It’s for the game,” she said.

“Sure,” he said, turning to do her bidding.

“Thank you. Oh, and Stephen . . .”

“Yes?” He turned to her again, looking at her, his face
now a study in neutrality.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. You know, me
sending you to the house and then not showing up.
Anyway, I meant for you to meet my dad without me,
b
ut I didn’t intend to not show up at all. I’m sorry for
standing you up.”

She looked him in the eye and continued. “It’s just
that seeing you at practice kind of caught me off guard.
Knowing you came specifically to see me sort of rattled
me.”

“You shouldn’t be surprised. I told you I would.”

“Yeah, I know. It still surprised me, though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling again. “I
didn’t expect you to be easy.” She read both sincerity and earnestness in his expression. “I m just grateful that you’re
willing to listen.”

“Okay,” she said.

They both continued to look at each other a second
or two more. Reye realized that she needed to get
moving. “Well, I’d better finish.” He left to retrieve the
ice chest and she quickly grabbed her hat and followed him into the front of the house.

As she entered the living room, he was walking towards
the front door, pulling the ice chest along behind him.
“Are you ready?”

“Just need to get my keys. ”

“I’ll just load this in your truck.”

“Sure, thanks. Hey, do you want to ride to the game
together?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she could
have kicked herself.

“Are you sure?” he asked, sensing her hesitation.

“It’s no big deal. You’re here to help, and there is no
point in us riding in separate cars. We are, after all, going to the same place. Right?”

“
Sure.” They both walked out the front door, Reye
locking up behind them.

Who would have thought he would have shown up to
help her out today? She was nervous at having him with
her, coaching while he watched. He’d let her talk non
stop about her strategy on the drive over. More than any
thing he could have done monetarily or physically, his
showing up did more to move her back into his arms
than anything. Once they arrived at the fields, he fol
lowed her instructions and set up the cones like she
wanted. After the kids arrived, he kicked the ball back
and forth with them, helping them to warm up. She was
nervous, but because he knew soccer, she felt calmer
having him here. He was a good listener, had been even
in the earlier days when they laid in the dark talking
about their days. He had always listened to her.

Sam arrived not long after, and hadn’t seemed sur
prised to see Stephen. He and Stephen shook hands and
talked for a while, about who knew what. She was sure her dad had called Sam the night before and given him
the 411. Sam and her dad had bonded with each other
during their “save-the-Reye” campaign after Stephen’s
departure.

After the game, which her team won, Stephen
watched her walk over to him and Sam after having made
sure all of her kids were going home with a parent. She looked great in her coaching attire. He’d always loved her
in shorts, his second favorite clothing item of hers; her
birthday suit being his favorite, of course. Watching her
give instructions to the kids had his body temperature
r
ising. Who knew, maybe he could talk her into playing
coach with him one day. He liked this side of her, the
coach, the caregiver. It was nice to know, for future child-
rearing purposes, that’d she make a great mother. He
imagined she’d want children of her own, of their own,
after they were married, that is.

He had been surprised by Sam’s response to him.
Reye’s brother had been welcoming, throwing him for a
loop. He had expected an adversary, but instead he’d been
blown away by Sam’s hospitality. Maybe he knew some
thing that Stephen didn’t; whatever, it was encouraging
to know that someone was rooting for him. Reye stopped
in front of him and Sam.

“What are you two smiling about?”

“Nothing much, just admiring a beautiful girl,” Sam
said.

Reye rolled her eyes and looked over at Stephen. “Are
you ready to go?”

“Oh, you two came together?” Sam asked, clearly surprised.

“Yes,” they said in unison. Stephen, with his eyes on
Reye, said, “I went by her house this morning, thinking
she might need some help with the game. She let me tag
along.”

“Okay, then. Well, good game, Reye, I’ll see you
later,” Sam said.

“Sure. Bye, Sam,” Reye said.

“See you around, Stephen.” Sam stuck out his hand
for a fist bump.

“Yeah. You, too.”

R
eye and Stephen watched him walk away before getting into Reye’s truck. They didn’t talk much on the way
back.

Reye pulled into her driveway. Stephen’s car was
parked out front, exactly where they’d left it.

“Let me help you load everything into the house,” he
said.

“Sure, grab the cooler and I’ll grab my soccer bag.”
They walked to the front door, and Reye opened it for Stephen and followed him in. He rolled the ice chest into
the kitchen while she stood by the front door waiting for
him to return. This wasn’t the ending he had envisioned.

“Would you like to get some lunch?”

“No, thanks. But thanks again for helping me with
the game. I’m tired, so I am going to take the rest of the
day to clean up my home and get some rest.”

“Sure, no problem. Well, until next time. Take care.”

“Yeah. You, too,” she said as she opened the door to let him pass through.

With a final wave, she closed the door.

Disappointed, he walked to his car. The upside, he
reminded himself, was that he’d gotten to spend the
morning with her. Baby steps, he reminded himself. She
was worth it.

* * *

Stephen checked out of his hotel early Sunday
morning, feeling optimistic. He was headed over to
Reye’s parents’ house for breakfast and to meet her
m
other. He dressed in casual slacks and a collared shirt,
deciding to forgo his jeans. He needed to make a good impression. Reye had spoken of her mother both with
fondness and with a little bit of frustration from what she’d considered her mother’s constant pushing. Hell,
he’d trade his for hers any day of the week. Mothers, his
and hers, were alike in wanting their kids to be successful,
also alike in how their kids responded and were affected by that pushing. Funny that their parents were similar;
both he and Reye felt a special kinship with their fathers
and a loving, albeit a little distant, relationship with their
mothers.

He drove into a newer subdivision, built within the
last ten years by the looks of it, located in the north part
of town. He’d mapped the address, and here he was
pulling up alongside a light pink two-story brick home.
No sign of Reye’s truck, though, as he parked in the
empty driveway and walked to the front door. He rang
the doorbell. The door was opened by an older, shorter
version of Reye, minus the locks; long strands of beautiful brown hair fell around her face.

“You must be Stephen. Please come in. My husband
told me to expect you for breakfast this morning. We’ve had breakfast here since the kids started leaving home,
living on their own. It was our way of keeping our home
open for them, and they make it over when they can.
Children can get so busy with their own lives, and some
times it’s the only chance we get to see them. I bet your mother understands what I mean.” During her talk, she
walked him through the living room and on to the
k
itchen. Their home was lovely, done in yellows and
blues; he’d located the source of Reye’s love of color.
Reye’s mom reached the kitchen and stopped. “It’s only
you and Reye this morning. Have a seat. I can finish
cooking while we get to know each other. Would you like
something to drink? I have coffee, several juices—orange,
apple, or cranberry—and milk.”

“Sure, I’d like a glass of orange juice.” He watched as
she reached into the refrigeration behind her, poured
juice into a glass, and handed it to him.

“Thank you,” Stephen said, taking in the large spa
cious kitchen. To his right was a large table that looked
large enough to seat eight or nine. Mrs. Jackson had indi
cated the bar stools for him to sit on. It put him in front
of her and the grill as she was preparing what appeared to
be pancakes. His stomach rumbled. She heard, and they
both smiled.

“So, my husband tells me you met Reye last year
before school started?”

“Yes, I did.”

“He also told me you spent quite a bit of time with her, what, almost the whole year? Is that correct?”

“That’s correct, yes.”

“We haven’t met you? A year is a long time. So tell me
about yourself. You live in Dallas now?”

“Yes, I was born and reared there. My family has a law
firm that has survived four generations. I was in Austin completing the last year of law school when I met your
daughter. I’ve recently taken the bar exam and I’ve started
working with my dad in Dallas. I’ve purchased an apart
m
ent there, and most of my time is spent at the firm, get
ting to know the business.”

“I see. So what brings you back to Austin?” This
woman was amazing. She was grilling him while mixing
the ingredients for pancakes from scratch. She pulled a
griddle from underneath the counter and placed it over
the stove.