Page 6 of Shape Of My Heart
Josh couldn’t think of anything worse than a team meeting. He couldn’t go. He couldn’t imagine sitting with the other Gladiators and their coach in their meeting room at the stadium talking about last season, which he didn’t take part in, and the upcoming season. Josh just couldn’t bear the thought of it. He only needed to touch a football and he’d remember all that his parents went through to make it possible for him to get to play pro ball for a leading national team. And by the same token, the same memory triggered how he put football above the lives of his family. It was a double-edged blade for him, and he didn’t know what to doaboutthat.
Allegra slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Corey cut her a sharp glance. He didn’t like her. Never had, and it didn’t look like he everwould.
“How about I think about it,” Joshslurred.
“You said thatlasttime.”
Josh couldn’t remember that. His memory was very hazy these days. He liked itthatway.
“This time I will promise you, hand on heart, that I’ll think about it,” he chuckled, running his hand along Allegra’swaist.
“Cool. We missyou,man.”
His team needed him. He could tell. He’d helped them win the year before last and he understood that his absence wasmissed.
He played for the Dolphins for four years before he got signed by the Gladiators. It was then that he actually felt like he was part of a team. They were friends too, real friends. He’d known a majority of them for just over five years and he had to admit that he missed them too. He missed playing with them, missed the crazy stunts they’d pull on the field. Josh glanced over at Gage Montgomery, the Gladiators’ quarterback, as he served the volleyball straight in Ty’s face and started to laugh. Josh would have laughed, too, if he was in abettermood.
Gage turned and saw Josh watching thespectacle.
“Hey old man, come play with us,” Gagebeckoned.
He and Josh had this running joke about their ages. Josh was only a month older than Gage but they’d had this stupid joke going from the day they met. Josh got on really well with Gage. They looked similar and had the samepersonalitiestoo.
“Next time, dude.” Joshwavedback.
Gage would have answered but Ty sent the ball right back at Gage, hitting him inhisneck.
“I have to go.” Josh focused his attention back to Corey. “I don’t want to keep my womanwaiting.”
Truthfully, he didn’t want to think about football, his friends, or anything to do with playing. Josh knew that an impending decision lay on the horizon for him. The team management had left him to grieve for most of the year. They’d left him to do whatever the hell he wanted and treat them how he felt, but he knew that they’d start exerting some form of control the closer it got to the upcoming season with all the events and trainingsplanned.
It was understandable; they had a business to run and a teamtoprep.
The problem was Josh wasn’t sure he could be part of any of it anymore. His body wanted it, and he longed to play. His mind was anotherstory.
Allegra giggled in that cute girlie way that he liked and pulled him away from Corey. She’d be able to give him just what he needed and wipe his mind clean of all worries, if only for a little while. He followed her happily into thehouse.
* * *
It tookAmy the whole day just to clean the living room. She drove to the supermarket and got some cleaning sprays and cloths. She also got some super-thick rubber gloves to lessen the chance of contamination. She’d never been in a house so dirty. It was like one of those homes from hell shows that showed how dirty peoplecouldbe.
Just from the living room alone she’d bagged up eight extra-large disposal bags. It wasatrocious.
Kathy, her good friend from New York, and Tristan had sent her the standard “good luck on your first day” messages, to which she hadn’t replied. What could she say? Thiswashell.
Her, Amy Rose, the aspiring designer who wanted to work for Dior, was scrubbing floors and picking up underwear amongst garbage. It was a cruel joke and she didn’t know what stroke of bad luck had crossed her path to allow this tohappen.
Even her clothes were ruined. Earlier she’d reached for a beer bottle on the shelf believing it was empty. It slipped out of her grasp and landed on her, spilling moldy beer with fermented bits all over her beautiful clothes. It stank to high heaven and she did too. She’d had to have a mini wash in the kitchen, which was surprisingly not as bad as the living room. Probably because it seemed like Mr. Mancini preferred fast food and beer to home cooked meals that would require the use of pots, pans, anddinnerware.
By the time she was done the living room looked livable and she could see her way into the sitting room. It hosted another mess, which she had managed to clear away but hadn’tcleaned.
At the end of her work day the bad smell had gone and at least the place looked like a person lived there and not like he was keeping animals. She didn’t know how he managed to do anything or eat in suchamess.
He hadn’t returned when she was leaving, which was fine, she didn’t particularly want to see him again for the day. At least she’d surviveddayone.
Barely.
Now on to her little room in downtown. She couldn’t even class it as an apartment. It wasn’t big enough. There was a single bed that looked like something you’d see in a jail cell, a unit with a stove top, and a sink. Next to that was a mini-fridge, the toilet, andshower.
