Touchdown (3 page)

“You getting me full of paint?” Clay laughed, and then threw the ball at Austin, the paint splattering his suit.

Thomas Booth, who stood behind Clay, shouted at Austin, “What are you doing with that? You're making a mess.”

Austin laughed. “It washes off!” He threw the ball back to Clay.

Booth furrowed his eyebrows. “That's not our tradition.”

Clay laughed and threw the ball to Booth. “It is now!”

Booth strained to catch it, but too late; the ball, slippery with paint, slipped out of his grasp.

Crowds of students in the stadium laughed as Booth, his suit now splattered blue, and his face clearly red, picked up the ball.

“Watch your back,” Booth said. “I'm going to get you for that!”

The team laughed as they all took turns throwing the ball to each other and splattering each other wet with paint.

Carolyn walked away from her spot by the bleachers and called out to her boyfriend. “Clay, it's close to midnight. Everybody's waiting—when are y'all going to throw the first ball?”

Austin, his suit now full of blue paint, was left holding the ball. “She's right, Clay, it's nearly midnight.” He turned and threw the ball to Carolyn. “Your turn!”

Carolyn jumped back, but too late—the blue-stained ball hit her pink dress. She gasped and started to cry. “Austin, you moron! How could you ruin my dress?”

Austin ran over to Carolyn. “It washes out. It ain't ruined.”

“But still! How am I supposed to lead cheer when I am blue? This is so not appropriate!”

Her sorority sisters stopped cheering and crowded around her, horrified.

Clay walked over to Carolyn. “Are you all right?”

Carolyn exhaled and ran her fingers through her long, perfectly sculpted blond hair. “I'll be fine. But I must wash out the stain before it sets.”

“Throw the ball!” the crowd cheered. “Throw the ball!”

Clay shrugged. “Are you sure, Carolyn? It would be nice to have you here. Can't that wait a minute?”

She shook her head, and then addressed the ladies congregating around her. “I'm fine!” she assured her sorority sisters and waved her hands. “It's nearly midnight, ladies, so kindly take your places beside your dates. ”

“Carolyn, please don't go,” Clay said. “Don't leave me now.”

“I'm sorry to disappoint,” Carolyn said and batted her eyelashes. “But it would be wrong for me to be here in a stained dress. You'll have to be brave without me, Clayton,” she said, and then left him alone on the field.

Austin picked up the ball and handed it to Clay. “Do the honors, buddy.”

All the sorority sisters took their places and stood beside their boyfriends—the other football players—as they waited for Clay to start the season.

“Ten! Nine!” The crowd cheered down the seconds until midnight.

Clay got his arm ready to throw.

“Eight! Seven!”

“Clay needs a date!” Trina, Austin's girlfriend, pointed out the horror of breaking tradition.

Austin nudged Clay to get Leigh.

“Six! Five!”

Clay caught Leigh's eye and gestured for her to come stand beside him.

She shook her head no.

“Four!”

“Yes!” Clay ran toward Leigh and lifted her over his shoulder, then deposited her right beside him.

“Three! Two!”

Clay smiled at Leigh, who looked very uncomfortable standing beside him in front of his school, and then he wound his arm into position.

“I can't kiss you, Clay!”

“It's all right,” he whispered. “It won't mean a thing.”

“One!”

He threw the ball.

At midnight, the football hurtled through the air, soaring above the crowd toward the end zone as one of Clay's teammates, Ricco, jumped to catch it.

“Touchdown!”

The crowd went wild as each student turned to kiss their date, as was their school tradition.

Go Bullfrogs!

Clay laughed, then turned to Leigh, grabbed her into his embrace, and was about to kiss her. They'd been friends since they were kids but had never gone beyond that.

The lights went off for a moment as the crowd cheered in the dark.

“It won't mean a thing, right?” Leigh asked.

“Right,” he said.

Fireworks exploded overhead as everyone in the crowd kissed their dates, but Leigh Truitt broke out of Clay's grasp and stepped back. “You don't believe that, do you?”

Clay stared at her.

“A kiss could make us . . . awkward, Clay. And nothing is worth the risk of losing you,” she said. “Ever. You're my one, true friend.”

The band played their school anthem as Clay and Leigh moved further away from each other and tried not to acknowledge that even though they hadn't kissed, their world had changed.

Goldie threw her hair back as she adjusted the collar on her handmade ivory wedding dress. The gown glittered from the dots of iridescent sequins that were sewn into the full skirt, which cascaded past her feet in pools of silk. Standing in front of an antique French chevalier mirror in her bedroom, she smiled.

“You look beautiful.” Mindy sighed, leaning back on her sister's canopy bed as she blinked back tears. “Mama would be so proud.”

Goldie's smile froze. “Who cares what Mama would think.”

Mindy sat up. “You don't wish Mama was here for your wedding day?”

Goldie's face was devoid of expression. “No.”

Rays of sunlight shone through the huge bay window. Goldie usually kept the heavy velvet purple drapes closed, but today she had opened them a crack.

Mindy rose from Goldie's bed and stood behind her sister. “She'd want to be here.”

“No, she wouldn't.” Goldie shrugged and walked away from her sister.

Mindy stared at Goldie. “How can you say that?”

“Because,” Goldie sniffed and picked up her fluffy pink makeup brush. “She left us.”

Mindy swallowed. “She didn't want to. Can't you forgive her?”

“Forgive her? For what? For leaving us?” Goldie turned around and faced her sister. “She was sad for as long as I can remember, and then she got sick. I begged her to eat and get stronger but did she? No. And then I pleaded with her to call the doctor, which she didn't want to do, either. She said ‘she's a nurse and a fever is no big deal.' That it would pass. And Daddy believed her. But it didn't pass. She got septic and died. Who in the Western World dies from a fever? Her. Because she was stubborn, and didn't want to stir herself to see a doctor, and clearly didn't care about being with us. She had a death wish, I'm sure. She left us and I tried to help but couldn't do a thing about it. And I refuse to ever be vulnerable like that again. I will never again take no for an answer. You think I want this?” Goldie gestured toward her antique mahogany dressers and canopy bed.

“What are you saying?” Mindy asked.

Goldie shook her head. “Every decision I make is about taking care of you, and Daddy . . . ”

“Which decisions?” Mindy interrupted. “Managing our house? Running Daddy's business?”

Goldie stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Yes, that, too,” she said sadly.

This time, Mindy froze. “You're not sure about marrying Avner, are you?”

Goldie's eyes darted toward the window. “No, it's not that. Avner's a darling person. Who couldn't like such a guy?”

Mindy stared at her sister. “Like him? Goldie, you're getting married. Tonight. Don't you love him?”

Goldie glanced outside at the figure standing by her patio. She watched him as he caught her gaze and waved. She pointed to the window. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

Goldie twisted her engagement ring on her finger. “That guy in the white suit.”

With a strong jerk, Mindy pulled all the drapes open. “There's nobody there.”

“Yes, there is.” Goldie pointed. “I know him. I've seen that man in my dreams.”

A light knock at her door interrupted their conversation. Chumie from the boutique arrived, her black hair matted across her forehead from the sweat of carrying heavy merchandise up the stairs. The tight grimace she wore plastered on her face made her look even more like a witch. “Here are the honeymoon outfits you ordered,” she said.

“Thanks,” Goldie said automatically, barely acknowledging Chumie. She continued her conversation with her sister. “I could have sworn he was in our courtyard a moment ago.”

Mindy nodded. “But he isn't now. Who is this guy, anyway?”

“I don't know. I can't remember where we first met other than in my dreams—but he sure is a snappy dresser,” Goldie said with a laugh.

Chumie stared at Goldie. “You're about to marry Avner Finkelstein, the sweetest guy in the world, not to mention the catch of the century—and you're thinking about another man?”

Goldie turned toward Chumie. “Huh?”

Chumie's eyes turned a darker shade of black and Goldie took a step back. “You've got the biggest fish in the sea and all you can talk about is some other guy?”

The room suddenly turned dark as a cloud moved to cover the sun.

Goldie, for once, was at a loss for words.

“Avner deserves better than you,” Chumie spat at Goldie.

Mindy got between the two ladies. “Hey, let's all calm down now.”

Chumie shook her head. “You'll get yours, Goldie,” she said and stormed out of the room. “You all will!” she yelled, and then the only sound in the room was of the heavy oak door slamming behind her.

Goldie sat down on her bed. “What was that?”

Mindy looked out the window. It was starting to rain. “What do you think?”

Goldie twisted her ring. “I didn't take him from her.”

“You know that, and I know that, but Chumie's still hurting.”

Goldie shrugged. “But the wedding will go on anyway. Because when Avner's parents' company joins with Daddy's textile company, we'll all do fine.”

Mindy grabbed her sister's hand. “Tell me that's not why you're marrying him.”

“I don't believe in mushy-gushy romances. Soul mates in love for eternity—that's just not me.”

Mindy's eyes darkened. “Goldie—even if you don't believe in true love, Avner does.”

“Avner.” Goldie sighed. “He's a poet. Of course he yearns for that . . . nonsense.”

Mindy's eyes widened. “He's sensitive—he wants a wife who loves him!”

Goldie shook her head. “He's sweet, but terribly unrealistic. Life demands hard answers to difficult questions.”

Mindy shook her head. “Avner deserves better than that.”

Goldie stared at her sister. “In what way? I'm committing my entire existence to looking after him, the way I watch out for you and Daddy.” Goldie stared out the window as the rain pelted the glass. “There he is again. I knew he was there. The guy in the white suit. What does he want from me?” She grabbed up her train and ran to the door. “I have to find out.”

“Goldie!” Mindy called out as she followed her sister outside. “I don't see anybody.”

Goldie opened the double glass doors to the backyard. Rain pelted the courtyard in heavy strokes, as if God had opened up His storeroom and this was what spilled out. And then she saw him up close—he was tall and slim, and his light, wavy hair curled against his neck. She gazed at him.

Their eyes locked, and Goldie felt drawn to him in a way she'd never felt with anyone before. “Why are you here?”

He stared at her for a few moments before responding. “I have a message for you.”

“From who? The caterer? The florist?” Rain poured all over Goldie's wedding dress, but she barely felt it.

He smiled. Goldie noticed that his teeth were pearly white and wondered what he used to get them that color.

“I came to tell you to be careful.”

Now Goldie smiled. “This is a set-up, right? Who sent you? Avner? Mindy? No, wait. My dad—he loves a good joke.”

The man moved closer to Goldie. “No, nothing like that. It's just—don't marry him.”

Goldie blushed and fluffed her hair. “A secret admirer? How nice.”

“Not quite.” The man smiled. “Though you are kind of cute.”

“Cute?” Goldie put her hands on her hips. “I've been called a lot of things in my life—”

“Let me guess. Demanding? Unreasonable? Impetuous?”

“Well, yeah. But never cute.”

The man chuckled. “They did say you'd be difficult.”

Goldie's smile froze. “Who? Is this about that order I cancelled from Chantilly's? So now you think I shouldn't get married altogether. Well, you can just forget it, Mr. Man-in-the-sharp-white-suit. By the way, your shoes are to die for. Simply heavenly. Where did you get them?”

The man stepped closer to Goldie and held his palms up as if in supplication. “It's not like that. You can't marry Avner Finkelstein and you must cancel the wedding.”

Goldie pursed her lips. “You're not from Chantilly's, are you?”

The man laughed. “No. I'm from . . . somewhere a lot further away than that.”

Goldie shook her head impatiently. “So who sent you? Why don't you want me to go through with my wedding?”

“Goldie, you're in terrible danger. Your mother—”

Goldie froze. “My mother is dead. Who are you?”

“That's not important. You need to—”

Goldie turned her head to the sound of Mindy behind her.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?” Mindy asked.

“He—” Goldie gestured to the man. But when she turned to face him, all she saw were drops of rain hitting the swimming pool and the carved stones that surrounded it.

“Let's get out of this downpour—you're drenched,” Mindy said as she approached her sister and put the back of her hand to Goldie's forehead. “I thought so, you're burning up.” She clutched Goldie's hand, and pulled her back into their house.