Change of Hart (4 page)

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I saw the way you two connected the other day. Spending some time with him might be a nice idea for both of you. It’s not much different than what Big Brothers/Big Sisters does.” I felt relieved that she didn’t think I was crazy. I also heard her take another drink.

“Uh, Lin, exactly how much wine are you going to drink while I’m on the phone with you?” I joked.

“Shut up. The glass isn’t that big. And I’m thirsty. So,” she said, switching gears. “I’m assuming you’re needing my help to set this whole shindig up.”

“
Shindig
?” I asked. “Are you sure the glass isn’t that big?”

“Ohmygod, stay focused!” Lindsay admonished. “What do you need me to do?”

I chuckled. “Ok, ok. Focused. Do you think you can get in touch with Jaxon’s mom? Maybe have her call me?”

“You want me to give a strange woman your phone number?” Lindsay asked, mock concern in her voice.

“Ok really, lay off the sauce, babe.” She snorted. “And yes, give this particular strange woman my phone number. And tell her I’m wanting to invite her and Jaxon for a personal tour of the stadium. If I’m gonna spend some time with her kid, I probably need to start off by showing her I’m not a scary guy with lots of things to hide.”

“True,” she said. “Ok. I’ll call her on Monday and give her your number.”

“Thanks,” I said as I turned left onto my street, heading for my parking garage. “And Lindsay?”

“Yes?” she asked cautiously.

“No more refills on that big-ass glass I know you’re holding, ok?”

She huffed and, I assumed, rolled her eyes at me. “Watch yourself, Hart. String cheese and hot dogs only come in so many different flavors.”

I laughed as I pulled into a parking space. “Ok, ok. I’ll talk to you next week.”

“Enjoy all those processed foods,” she said.

“And you enjoy all those recorders,” I replied.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she said. And hung up.

I
t was Monday afternoon and Deuce and I were at the gym. Because, well, where else are we going to be?

“I feel like I have a brick sitting in my stomach,” I complained as I squatted to the floor with the bar securely resting on my shoulders. It wasn’t the heaviest weight I could squat. But after last night, I had to take it a little bit easy so I didn’t spew all over the gym floor.

“Quit your bitchin’,” Deuce said, still not counting my reps. “You know you loved every bit of my wife’s cooking.”

“Twenty,” I grunted and walked forward, dropping the bar on the rack. “Oh, I didn’t say I didn’t love it. It just likes to hang around for a while after I eat it.”

“Or,” he argued as he settled himself under the bar and stood up. “It could be that you ate, what, four servings of her mama’s famous enchiladas? Who does that?”

As he squatted down, my phone started ringing in my pocket. It usually stayed in my locker during my workout, but I knew Lindsay was calling Jaxon’s mom today and I didn’t want to miss her call. That is, if she called.

I looked at the screen and didn’t recognize the number. As much as I wanted to answer, I couldn’t exactly leave Deuce alone with four hundred pounds on his back. I shoved the phone back in my pocket and waited for Deuce to get done. Just as he finished, I heard the beep telling me I had a new voicemail.

“Why the hell do you have your phone with you?” Deuce asked as he grabbed his water bottle and popped the top open.

“I’m waiting for a call,” I said absentmindedly as I punched in the code on the screen and lifted the phone to my ear.

“You’re waiting for a call from that kid’s mom, aren’t you?” he asked.

I ignored him and punched “1” to start the message.

“Hi, um, my name is Addison Bryant,” a soft-spoken voice said over the phone. “Mrs. Miller, the music teacher at my son’s school, gave me your number and told me you wanted to speak with me? Um . . . I guess you have my number now. So let me know how I can help you.” She paused. “Thanks. Bye.”

I pressed the “end” button and looked up to Deuce who was shaking his head. “What?” I asked.

“Was it her?” he asked.

“Who?” I replied, playing dumb.

“The kid’s mom, jackass.”

I smirked. “How did you know that was the call I was waiting for?”

“You mentioned it, oh, half a dozen times or so at dinner last night,” he answered. “I’m still not getting why you are so interested in this kid.”

I put my phone back in my pocket. I knew it was dumb to have it with me. Obviously I wasn’t going to be able to return the call any time soon. But I was anxious to at least see if she called. My head wouldn’t be in my workout if I were thinking about the phone sitting in my locker.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I like him. And I think it’ll be good for me to take some time to make a difference in someone’s life. Get out of my selfish little bubble for a while. Do something that has more long-lasting results than making a few tackles every week.” I picked up my water bottle and took a drink.

“So, then, why are you so nervous about talking to his mom?”

I smirked. “Now that’s an easy one. Moms make me nervous. They didn’t like me in high school when I was dating their daughters and I seriously doubt much about my reputation has changed. I just don’t want her to think I’m a weirdo with some hidden agenda.”

“You are a weirdo. But whatever,” Deuce agreed. “Go call her back.”

“Thanks, man,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m not sure my head will be in the workout until I get this out of the way. I’ll be right back,” I said, turning the corner and quickly walking down the hall to the locker room. I grabbed my phone and checked the log screen to find the number.

As I dialed, I pushed into the locker room door, sat on the bench and took a breath. There was no telling how this was going to go. I kind of found the entire thing a little strange myself so I couldn’t imagine how Addison Bryant felt.

“Hello?” a soft voice answered on the other end.

“Um, Mrs. Bryant?” I asked.

“This is she,” she answered.

“Hi, my name is Jason Hart. My friend Lindsay Miller gave you my number.”

“Oh! Mr. Hart, hi. I’m actually glad you called. I’m so, so sorry about what happened at the pep rally last week,” she rushed out her words. “I don’t know what came over Jax . . . I know that must have been really strange and I’m just . . . I’m just sorry he put you in that position.”

I smiled. “Actually, Mrs. Bryant, I’m kind of glad he rushed the stage. I enjoyed getting to know him a little that day.”

“You did?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I reassured her. “He’s a really cool kid.”

She paused for a few seconds. “He is,” she said slowly. “Thanks.”

“That’s kind of the reason I called,” I continued. “I wanted to invite him, and you of course, on a tour of the stadium.”

No response.

“I’m getting the feeling that information wasn’t relayed to you.”

“Wait . . . um, no. I was just told to call you. So you want him to come tour the stadium?” she asked, seemingly confused by my offer. “With you?”

I chuckled. “Yeah. I know how into football he is and thought he might enjoy it.”

The phone went silent.

“Um, Mrs. Bryant?” I said. “Are you still there?”

“I really appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.”

I was kind of shocked. I thought for sure she would jump at the chance to let Jaxon get down on the field. I’ve never heard of anyone saying no to a stadium tour before. Heck, I play in them and even I wouldn’t turn down a tour from a player on another team.

“Can I ask why not?” I finally asked.

I heard her take a deep breath and blow it out before she spoke. “I just don’t think now is a good time for Jaxon to star in a publicity stunt.” The comment made me feel like I had been slapped. “Jax is a good kid and I know he would love it. It’s just not a great time for him to be in the public eye like that. His father’s death is just too fresh right now. I don’t like to answer the few questions I get already. I don’t really want to have reporters asking questions, too.”

When I thought about it, her answer didn’t really surprise me that much. Nor did her confusion about my offer.

“Oh, no, Mrs. Bryant,” I said. “This isn’t an invitation for a publicity stunt. My publicist doesn’t even know I’m calling you right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I said. “There wouldn’t be any cameras there or anything. It would just be the three of us touring around the building.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“Really,” I said with a smile. “I wanna do something for Jaxon. He deserves it.”

She paused for a few more seconds. “Well, then I guess that would be ok.”

I broke out into a broad grin. “Well great!”

We made plans over the next few minutes. Since she worked during the week, Saturday seemed to be the best time to meet up. Which was fine with me. The stadium would be buzzing with excitement with the season opener the next day. It would be fun.

When I hung up the phone, I was really excited about giving this tour. It was about time I started contributing to the wellbeing of others on a more personal level. And not just by attending events in a monkey suit.

I walked around the locker room, searching for dirty underwear or jock straps. Everyone had already gone home after the short practice we’d had. But with Jaxon and his mom on the way, I wasn’t taking any chances. There wasn’t a lot I could do about the smell, but I could at least make sure the place was cleaned up.

The phone in the locker room rang once before I picked it up.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Hey, Mr. Hart! This is Ronald from security!” Ronald was always this pleasant. He resembled an older Wayne Brady and he greeted everyone with a smile. Every time.

“I have an Addison Bryant and her young man, Jaxon, here for you,” he said.

“Thanks, Ronald,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”

I hung up the phone and took one more glance around the room. It was as good as a professional locker room was going to get.

On my way to the west side door where the Bryant’s were waiting, I passed a few maintenance and administrative people in the halls. They didn’t really notice me and certainly didn’t seem surprised to see me. It seemed like I was always there. Some said I was too dedicated to my job, but like I had told Lindsay the other day . . . I have a very small window of time to be a professional football player. Especially since my job was to tackle people. Regularly. The minute other players got faster than me, my career was over. No one much older than thirty-five can keep up with twenty-two-year-old first round draft picks. That left me with about six more years playing the game I loved. And I would make the most of it.

But my world was starting to feel a little too small. So it was nice having Lindsay back in my life. And hopefully Jaxon and I would continue to hit it off. They were a nice reminder that once football was over, there was still lots of life left to live.

I rounded the corner and immediately caught sight of Jaxon.

“Jason Hart!” he yelled and ran toward me. I knew what was coming this time, so I squatted down for him to hug my neck instead of my legs. “I always wanted to come here and see a real football field! Are we going on the field? Are we gonna see a game?” he started launching rapid-fire questions in my direction.

“Slow down, buddy,” I said with a smile on my face. “Yes, we are going onto the field, but no, there’s not a game today. The season opener is tomorrow, so there’s gonna be a lot of people setting things up but not much else. Gives us a chance to check everything out. I figured you might like to see around the whole stadium.”

He started jumping up and down. “Yeah! And the locker room and the trainers and can I run out of the tunnel you come out of?”

“Sure!” I said. “We’ll make sure to go through the tunnel to get onto the field.”

“Alright!” he yelled, throwing his fist in the air while I stood up to introduce myself to his mom. I hadn’t really paid much attention to her once I caught sight of Jaxon. So when I turned my eyes to her, my steps faltered just a bit.

I was expecting someone in her mid to late 30’s. Maybe older. But she couldn’t have been older than 30. If that. And she was beautiful. Not in a tall and skinny super model way. But in a real woman way. Her dark brown hair came down just below her shoulders and when she looked at me and put out her hand for me to shake, her smile about knocked me on my ass.