Page 115 of Bountiful
On the ice, when my teammates and I were struggling in a scrimmage, Coach Worthington would yell, “Talk it out, men! I can’t hear you.” And I knew what to say in that kind of situation—how to save my teammate’s ass when a competitor was bearing downonhim.
I just didn’t know what to say to a prickly girl who was too used to getting by onherown.
“Baby,” I tried, as we sat there listening to the engine cool. “I printed out my fallschedule.”
“Sorry?” She turned to me,surprised.
“My game schedule. I printed it out at the copy shop so we could try to figure out when I’m going to see you again. We can look at it after we put the babytobed.”
Zara bit her lip. “Dave, you have twelve games in October and ten in November. Then fifteen in December. All over the fricking country. How is that evenpossible?”
I blinked as this little explosion of words hung between us for a second. “You looked at italready?”
“Of course I looked,” she grumbled, bumping her head back against the headrest. “I know you have to go, Dave. It means a lot to me that you want to see us. But it isn’t going tobeeasy.”
“I do have to go,” I said slowly. “For a lot ofreasons.”
“You don’t have toexplain.”
“But what if Iwantto?”
She swallowed. “Okay. Goahead.”
“There’s a lot of people depending on me. And they pay me a shit ton to show up and staysharp.”
“Your whole life is there. Your career. I get it. Vermont is just a vacationforyou.”
I reached across the gear box and took her hand. “It’s more than that, prickly girl. Iloveyou.”
Zara’s eyes widened. “You don’t have tosaythat.”
“IknowI don’t have to.” It came out sounding almost angry. But, damn. She was never going to let me in if I didn’t kick down the door. “I didn’t say it out of obligation. And I’ve never said it to anyone before, unless we’re counting my sister. So don’t throw it back in my face when I tell you I love you and I wish I could wake up in your bedeveryday.”
Zara put her elbow on the passenger door, then rested her cheek in her hand. But the fingers of her other hand curled around mine. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I find it hard totrustyou.”
“Okay.” I snorted. “I’ll try not to take itpersonally.”
“You didn’tchoosethis. You didn’t choose me.” Her lovely, proud chin turned in my direction again. “Let’s face it—your vacation fling got a little complicated. But I refuse to be that girl who tries to pin you down. Been there. Have the T-shirt and thescars.”
“Nobody’s pinning me down. Unless you want to ride me when we go upstairs.” She gave me a glare, and I had to chuckle. “That was just a little joke to shake you loose.” I picked up her hand and shook it gently. “If you don’t love me, you can say so. But don’t make me out to be a guy who can’t figure out what’s important. I’m a slow learner, but I’m not anasshole,Z.”
She sighed. “I don’t know what to think. You have to leave, and I have tostayhere.”
“For the record, if you ever wanted to spend some time in Brooklyn, I have a sweet apartment.” It was a long shot, but I didn’t want her to think she wasn’t welcomethere.
“Can’t,” she said simply. “I have a business to run. I can’t bail on Audrey. I lease space from Alec. My whole family is here. I can’t just fritter off to New York because you’re a lotoffun.”
“At least you’ll admit that I’m fun,” I said, squeezing her hand. “It’s a start. If I’m lucky, you might even admit you like me alittle.”
“I do like you. A whole lot,” she added grudgingly. “But I have obligations, and I can’t run off on a wild hair. I have to protect mychild.”
And myself. She didn’t add those words, but I heard ’emanyway.
Clearly I was going to have to waitherout.
Ahalf an hour later,I carried two glasses of wine out onto the condo’s balcony. This arrangement was my suggestion. There weren’t many summer nights left for me, and I wanted to sit under the stars with Zara. She followed me out, sliding the screen door closed behind her and setting the baby monitor down on the deckboards.
I sat down on the only piece of furniture, which was a giant metal lounge chair—wide enough for two people. The cushion on it had clearly seen better days, but I didn’t care. We could hear the river in front of us, and the gentle sounds of conversation rising up from the bar downbelowus.
