Down to the Bone (12 page)

“Skulls are nature’s football helmet,” he observed. “One of my elementary school teachers said that when he was trying to teach us about the human body.” He went somber. Here came the hard part. “You only told me the plain truth about my future. Right to the bone. Which is why I got so mad. See, football is all I’ve ever had. The thought of giving it up scared me. I’ve never even tried to put my mind to anything else...mostly because I was afraid that I’d discover I was stupid and unable to do anything else.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

She looked so outraged he hugged her again and almost laughed. God, was this all he’d needed all this time? Someone to believe in his brains as much as they believed in his athletic ability?

“It’s what I used to think,” he went on, “now...I’m starting to value my mind, and I’m not as willing to risk it as I was, not before I know what it can really do. I especially don’t want doctors gluing my skull back together like one of your artifacts. Which is why I’ve decided that I’m not joining the NFL.”

Liddy pushed at her glasses. “You’re not?”

“It might well kill my father when I tell him, but I’ve had more than a few realizations this season. I’m good enough, but not even close to indispensable. And that’s in college ball. Can you imagine how much more replaceable I’d be in the leagues? Which has me wondering if the short career I’m seeing ahead of me would be worth life-long damage to my bones and brains. Putting it in your terms, I think pro football would be a dead end for me.”

“Jet.” She was eyeing him doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“It wasn’t only what you said,” he assured her. “There’ve been other things. Like having Delarose there to compare myself to, the knee injury and being forced to realize that my dad has directed most of my life and my choices; he raised me to think my athletic talent was all I had going for me. But it isn’t all I’ve got, is it? I think—I think you’re the glue that put all these pieces together so I could see the whole thing and know it.

“Doesn’t mean I’m sorry I went into sports,” he added, “I really do love playing football and anything I do will be related to it.”

“Jarrett—”

“And I still intend to play next season,” he warned, perhaps a little too defensively. “And maybe the one after that if I can and if I’m still wanted. I’m not done with it yet, and it is part of my contract with the college. Do you think you could come to those games and be there for me, even if you can’t cheer me on? I mean, until I graduate and find myself a profession that isn’t so hard on my bones?”

Her dark eyes were shining now, beautiful as deep, dark waters. “Oh, yes.” She gripped him tightly. “That, I can do. But you’d better survive because I don’t want to go on without you.”

“We’re together on that,” he said, gripping her back. “I want a future with you. That is my new goal.”

MAY

His father had gone all out for the Memorial Day barbecue. There were T-bones and ribs, and the weather was playing along as well. The smoke from the roasting meat wafted up into clear and sunny skies, and the green backyard held the smells and promise of summer.

Jarrett sat under the shade of the blossoming apple tree, drinking down an orange soda and listening with half-an-ear to his father chatting up the neighbors.

“I wasn’t too happy about it at first,” his father admitted, “but he pointed out that being a chiropractor to football players means he’ll be making steady money till he’s old and gray. And he’ll still be involved in the game. He just started taking the classes this last semester, but his teachers think he’s a natural. Getting all A’s.”

Jarrett grinned. Things were better between him and his dad, and they’d improved with Frankie as well. His brother was working the grill, head up, his shoulders squared. Now and then, as he deposited a steak or rib on a plate, he even smiled.

A pair of small hands appeared on Jarrett’s broad shoulders and snaked down his chest. The left one bore a modest, diamond engagement ring. A feminine cheek rested against his.

“I shouldn’t have worn a sleeveless top,” Liddy murmured in his ear. “Everyone keeps staring at my tattoo.”

“Just tell them you belong to a motorcycle gang,” he murmured back, and pulled her around into his lap. Her plump ass and thighs wiggled until she was comfortable and he was warmly aroused.

“Oh, they haven’t been asking
me
about it,” she said. “They’ve been asking your father.”

“Uh-oh. What’s he been saying?”

“Actually, he’s been explaining it quite well. And he’s been boasting about Frankie’s academic awards, too. Says it looks like Frankie’s going to get his own scholarship to college.”

“Well, that’s something the old man can boast about for sure. That he didn’t have to pay for either of us to get a higher education.”

She laughed, her glasses flashing in the sun. “Well, you should also know he’s boasting about what a clever girl you got yourself. He seems quite as proud of that as anything.”

“You sound surprised,” Jarrett retorted. “You shouldn’t be. All he did was evolve. Isn’t that what we Homo sapiens do best? Evolve?”

“It’s in our bones,” Liddy agreed, removing her glasses.

That was all the invitation Jarrett needed. He leaned in and exchanged with her a very primal kiss.

THIRTEEN

To read more works by Thirteen, check out:

Christmas Lantern

Exchange Value

Full Disclosure

Garden of Earthly Delights, The

Pretty as a Picture

Special Occasion, A

Valentine Prayers