Going Long (28 page)

When everyone left us alone, I
turned out Nolan’s lights and went to her bathroom to turn her shower on. I
wanted her to feel comfortable and cared for, so I helped her from her clothes
and into the shower. It wasn’t about sex or seduction tonight. It was about
being there for her, letting her lean on me, in the place I should have been
months ago. I washed her hair and soaped her body, washing the makeup stains
from her cheeks. I wrapped her in a towel and led her to her bed, sitting her
down while I dug through her duffle bag of clothes she’d brought from home. I
found the Coolidge football shirt, her favorite, and put it over her head. I
pulled a pair of cotton leggings out next and helped her slide those on.

“My hair. It’s wet,” she sounded
so defeated, so melancholy. I pulled the towel from her head slowly and ran my
fingers through it. I laid the towel across her pillows and then pulled her big
blanket back.

“It’ll be okay. Here, just lay
on this,” I said, easing her back and tucking her under the covers. I pulled my
jeans off, and left my boxers and T-shirt on as I slid in next to her and
pulled her close. I stroked her face until her eyes finally grew heavy, and I
heard the faint hum of her breathing. Tonight was hard. Thinking about it all
seemed almost too heavy, and thinking about Nolan working through this alone
made me sick to my stomach.  

But as hard as tonight was, it
was also important. It had to happen, and I couldn’t find a way to do it on my
own. Kira might have just saved us. I know she saved Nolan. There was only
healing from here; I’d make sure of that.

Nolan

“How do you feel about your
midterms?” Dr. Ashford asked in her typical soothing voice. It wasn’t her fault
she was such a stereotype. I suppose her demeanor was just part of the job
description. I liked her, actually. Quite a bit. And I think in many ways she
was responsible for my academic turnaround this semester. Reed made me promise
to talk to someone, even as much as offering to sit with me while I talked to
my mom about my miscarriage. But I couldn’t bring this to her. Not because I
didn’t think she could help; I was sure she could. But it would also devastate
her. And I wasn’t sure I could survive the look on her face, knowing I’d lost a
child, her grandchild. I didn’t have enough strength left inside to handle
that.

“Nolan?” Dr. Ashford asked.

“Hmmmm? Oh, sorry. I was sort of
off somewhere,” I sat up straight and rolled my shoulders back to attention to
listen now. “Midterms. Yes…uh…I feel good. Really good, actually.”

“That’s good to hear,” she
nodded, folding her notebook in her lap and clicking her pen closed. “You’re
heading home for spring break, for the wedding this week, right?”

“Yeah. I get to be a bridesmaid.
It’s my first wedding. At least, first that I can remember,” I smiled faintly,
looking down to my locked fingers in my lap.

“And Reed…he gets drafted this
week, right?” she asked, as if Reed’s draft hadn’t been the center of every
conversation we’d had for the last month. I just nodded softly in return,
holding my breath for a few seconds before letting it out heavily, with a
shrug. “What have we learned, Nolan?”

I sighed again. I know she meant
well, but sometimes therapy felt a lot like nagging. “That I don’t need to
waste my positive energy worrying about what ifs,” I said, internalizing my
worry and masking it from her, afraid I’d be caught in my little act.

She just reached forward before
she stood and patted my folded hands. “I know you still worry. It’s human, and
it would be weird if you didn’t. But…you need to try to rationalize with
yourself before you let it take over everything. When you recognize your
anxiety, remind yourself that nothing has happened to cause it,” she said,
smiling and standing to her feet in her tall black pumps, towering over me by a
good six inches.

I stood and shook her hand,
grabbing my bag from the floor and slinging it sideways across my body. I was
reaching for her door when she gave me one more piece of advice.

“Oh, and Nolan?” she said. “Try
to have a good time. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded and left, wondering if
I deserved the good times she says I earned.

Buck and Rosie’s wedding was
going to be late Sunday night out at Winter’s Barn. Rosie had made the food
herself, prepped it, and hired a few servers to set it up on the wedding day.
Everything was country-themed, with a local honky-tonk band and fiddlers for
the ceremony, and open fire pits for marshmallow roasting. Sarah, Sienna and I
spent the afternoon stringing lights across the barn, and throughout the porch
and outdoor dancing area. I couldn’t wait to see it at night.

Buck and Reed were in Tucson for
several interviews after Friday’s draft selection. Reed didn’t win the Heisman.
But he was selected fourth overall by San Diego, just like Dylan had predicted
months ago. I had grown to respect Dylan, though she would never be someone I’d
feel comfortable calling a friend. She was smart, and a real advocate for Reed.
Her father, however, was unbelievable. I was in awe watching him at Buck’s
house the days before the draft, fielding call after call, and hanging up on
offers he didn’t think were worthy of even listening to, only to get call-backs
immediately with better terms. A lot of the selection came down to the team’s
needs and how the players fell in the order. But there still was negotiating to
do, especially off the books—about understood resigning agreements,
certain playing time guarantees and performance bonuses. It was all kind of
shady, but part of the business, I supposed.

I kept reminding myself of Dr.
Ashford’s warning. Nothing to worry about until there is something to worry
about. That was the gist. And I recognized my anxiety. I wore it proudly,
carried it around with me. I guess knowing it was there made it more
manageable, but I still felt that familiar sickness in my tummy, like trouble
was looming.

Reed texted me a few times
during the draft, and I recorded everything for him and Buck to see when they
finally made it home. He looked so right holding up the blue and gold jersey to
his chest. When I closed my eyes, it was like I’d seen him there all along. He
was where he was supposed to be; he’d done it. Number 13. My number 13, at
least…for now.

I was getting ready with Sienna
at Sarah’s house, when I finally got his text that they’d made it home.

Hey, we just got in. Dad’s
getting ready. He’s nervous. It’s funny.

The thought of Buck feeling
nervous made me smile. He’d been married to a strong woman before—Millie.
But Rosie was different. I felt like he had finally found his equal.

Well make sure you get him there
on time!

I joked, thinking about how
pissed Rosie would be if the boys showed up late.

Oh we’ll be there, Princess.
Can’t wait to see you!

His words warmed my insides, and
I pushed myself to soak in the now. Tonight, he couldn’t wait to see me. That
was my reality, and by God I was going to enjoy it.

Sarah braided Sienna and my hair
into twists and loops, wrapping it atop our heads. Sienna tackled Sarah’s since
I was useless when it came to things like this. We all had these cute white
shirtdresses with cowboy boots. Rosie had picked them out, saying she hated the
traditional bridesmaid look that got relegated to the back of the closet as
soon as the ceremony was over.

Her daughter-in-law was also
joining us in the ceremony, and we spent the first hour, long before the boys
arrived, taking pictures. It was a little warm outside, which made me even
happier to have a light cotton dress on. I was fanning myself with one of the
wedding programs when I heard the familiar rumble of Reed’s Jeep.

I stood up and shielded my eyes
from the setting sun when I heard his whistle.

“Whoa,” he said, walking up to
me in dark jeans with his boots and a dark gray jacket over his dress shirt. If
I didn’t know he was a football player, I would have mistaken him for a bull
rider. I’d never seen him dressed in his country finest, and I had to admit, it
was hot as hell.

“Whoa, yourself. You look hot,
Wildcat,” I teased, also reaching around him and stuffing my hands in his back
pockets to cop a feel of his awesome ass. He jumped a little when I did, which
made me giggle. He reached around me and dipped me backwards in his arms,
dangling me dangerously close to the ground before he kissed me and pulled me
back up to his body, swinging me around.

“Not a Wildcat anymore,
remember?” he said, his smile lighting up his face.

“Yeah, but
Charger
just
doesn’t have the same ring to it. It’s not really a pet name. I think I’ll
still call you Wildcat if that’s okay,” I joked.

Reed just lifted me in the air
again and twirled me around once more. “You can call me whatever you want,” he
winked, setting me back down gently. He flitted at my skirt a bit while I
turned around to let him take the outfit in. “Rosie did good. You look
unbelievable. Like I just picked you up from some stage in Nashville.”

“Hey, careful, buster. I might
start singing,” I said, causing Reed to cringe a little and squint one eye.
Music didn’t run in my veins, and when I tried to sing for real it rarely came
out on key.

“Reed! I need some help, son.
Pronto!” Buck shouted from a side door in the dressing room area of the barn.
Reed just turned to look at me one more time, grabbing my hand and kissing it.

“Looks like I have to give the
old man a pep talk,” he laughed, and then got a little serious all of a sudden,
stepping in closer to me. “I’ll see you on the aisle?”

I just nodded and pushed him a
bit, urging him to go to help his dad. “Yeah, yeah…you’ll see me,” I said,
gulping a little and pushing down my anxiety that was starting to rear its ugly
head.

“Nothing’s wrong, we’re okay;
he’s not gone yet.” I thought.

The barn was lined with rows of
white chairs, and every seat was full when the ceremony finally started. The
fiddlers played a beautiful classical tune that I didn’t recognize, but it
still had a country flavor because of them. I turned the corner of my hallway
and met Reed at the door to walk down the aisle together. He reached out his
arm and I took it, smiling up at him and just breathing him in.

We walked slowly down the row of
seats, and I scanned the crowd for my family, smiling at them. I found Becky,
and Sean, and Calley, too, and they whistled at us like we had just been
announced homecoming king and queen. When I turned back to Reed, I realized he
was only looking at me, his eyes never leaving my face. I smiled at him, and he
returned it, his gaze never wavering. He walked me up the small steps at the
front of the barn and leaned in to kiss me softly before we both stepped to our
respective sides, whispering in my ear, “I’ll see you soon.”

The rest of the girls and guys
filed in behind us, and both of Rosie’s sons walked her down the aisle, hugging
their mother and shaking Buck’s hand before taking their seats at the front.

The wedding was officiated by an
old friend of Buck’s, and he told funny stories throughout the ceremony,
sometimes embarrassing Buck and leaning in to ask Rosie if she was sure she was
making the right move. Everyone would chuckle, and Rosie would always say she
was sure. The way she looked at Buck was enviable. It was what I
wanted—to know that you had someone. Completely.

When the couple said, “I do,”
the barn erupted in cheers, guests tossing white rose pedals at Buck and Rosie
as they walked back down the aisle. Reed and I were next, and he just grabbed
my hand, leading me through the rain of flowers in a jog, laughing and happy.
We
were happy. Perhaps our happiest.

The band started playing almost
immediately, firing up the crowd and getting people on the dance floor. Sarah
of course had danced with every guy available and was working her way through
the girls. Reed, though, never left my side. He swung me around the dance
floor, surprisingly good at the country two-step, and held me close for the few
slow songs the band played.

We all stood back in a circle
when Buck and Rosie took the floor for their dance. The band played a cover of
Adele’s
Make You Feel My Love
, and watching Buck whisper in his bride’s
ear, kiss her cheek, and hold her adoringly, made my knees weak and put tears
in the eyes of a lot of the other women at the party.

Reed just stood behind me
throughout the entire thing, his arms locked solidly around my body, and his
chin resting on my shoulder, while he leaned down to be at my level. Each time
I’d turn to look at him, I’d catch his eyes already on me, and he would take
the opportunity to kiss me softly.

It was quickly becoming the most
amazing night of my life. After a little while, we all found our way to the
tables under the twinkling white lights the girls and I had strung. The effect
only added to the stars that shown bright above, the full moon out for display,
too. Rosie’s food was devoured, and soon after our plates were cleared, the
servers started passing out the champagne. I took my glass and tasted a tiny
sip, peeking at Reed and making a funny face.

“Don’t like it?” he scrunched
his face, asking me.

“It’s okay. I never really cared
for champagne,” I said, taking one more tiny sip and reevaluating my opinion a
bit. “Well…actually, this is kinda good.”

He poked my side a little and
kissed my neck. “Slow down there. I don’t need you getting all bold and tipsy
and taking my dad’s clients to the pool tables down the road and hustling them
out of cash.”

I was about to dish it right
back to him when we were interrupted with the clanking of glasses and spoons,
Buck getting our attention. A few people in the audience groaned, an inside
joke about Buck’s long speeches.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s my wedding,
and I’ll talk if I want to,” he teased back, belly laughing. When the room
finally quieted, Buck took a deep breath and turned to Rosie before looking
back out at the guests seated before him. “Thank you all, so much, for coming
on out here tonight. I hope you’re having a good time. Chuck? Don? Great music
boys!” Buck said, holding his glass up to toast the band.

“Tonight’s a big deal for me.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. ‘But Buck, we’ve been to your weddings
before’…and yeah, you have. I have a shitload of toasters, so thanks for
those,” he laughed, getting even more chuckles from the crowd.

“But tonight’s different. You
see, this one?” he said, leaning over to kiss Rosie’s head. “This one’s
forever. She’s seen me at my worst. Hell, she’s taped me up and put me back
together more times than my own mother. She’s yelled at me for being stupid,
forced me to eat right, forgiven me for sneaking gallons of ice cream, and
didn’t judge me when I told her I had young girlfriends because I was afraid of
dying.”