Tennessee Touch, Sisters of Spirit #6 (4 page)

“Great.” Ryan stepped inside and nodded ‘Hello’ to Alison.

He looked so much better since his marriage to Angie. Plus he had lost that hesitancy he used to have around women.

"You look eager to go," he said to Robyn.

"Yes. Angie's told me so much about Virginia Tech. She thinks the Sisters of Spirit group is still going strong there. I want to go for two years at least. I've enough money saved up."

"You're smart. No student debt when you get finished."

"Unlike Ellen. She told me how much she owed."

"Jared took care of that right away when he married her," he said. “But not everyone can marry a rich man.”

"And if the guy you marry happens to have college debt too, you're in bad shape," Alison said, joining the conversation. “I kept mine to a minimum by going to the community college here. I took my first year while I was a senior in high school, so only had to pay for two years of college. And I never bought any textbook I could read online or in the library.”

“How is their interpreter program?” Ryan asked.

“One of the best in the nation, but it does require three years to complete it.”

“Hey, Alison ran into a man on the freeway,” Robyn said, then grinned at Ryan’s worried expression, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Tell him, Alison.”

When she finished, Ryan said, “Tell me again. Just what did he say that got you riled?”

“He wondered if I’d ever signed on TV.”

“That was all?” Ryan looked puzzled.

“He said the program directors would jump at the chance to have me on.” She shook her head in disgust, thinking again at how he’d said the words.

“That was a compliment.”

She frowned at Ryan. “It didn’t feel like one.”

“It was. He was trying to pay you a compliment. The poor guy. He probably didn’t know what happened.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She had heard so many lines from so many men. All empty. Ryan hadn’t heard how it sounded.

Ryan shook his head. “You’re too thin-skinned, Alison. Guys have a hard enough time trying to figure out what to say to a woman when they’re trying to get to know her. Like walking uphill in deep sand. You turn the sand into quicksand.”

She shrugged, unconcerned with making things difficult. “They always have to talk about how pretty I am.” She felt petulant.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. He evidently thought she was being unreasonable. “It’s a fact. Get over it.”

“You never mention it.”

“I don’t need to. One, I’ve known you ever since your Mom dressed you in those ugly clothes she’d get at the Value store. I think she deliberately tried to find the worst things possible. You just outshone the clothes with both your looks and personality. And two, most importantly, I am now happily married and I don’t have to impress any woman except Angie.”

His sister laughed along with Alison. “She’s really great, Ry.”

He nodded. “That she is, Rob. He looked back at Alison. “Now that Robyn is taking off to school, will you keep this unit, or move to a smaller one?”

“The lease runs through December. I’ll know by then. I might see if Chantal will want to move in with me. You’ve met her, haven’t you, Ryan. My closest friend, next to Robyn.”

“The woman who does the window decorations in downtown Seattle? She’s tall, black, good-looking?”

“Yes.”

“I got to know her when I investigated some computer security problems they were having at one of the stores. She recommended me on Robyn’s say so.”

“That’s her.”

“What will you do about her watching football all the time?”

“You’re right.” She frowned, discouraged. Chantal was an avid fan.

Ryan shook his head at her facial expressions. “That’s another hang-up you need to get over.”

“Yes, mother.”

“So, are you going to call Logan?” Robyn asked. “He can’t call you, you know.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ryan shrugged and picked up one of Robyn’s boxes of household items she was going to store at their parents’ house. The three loaded them in the pickup, then came back for her suitcases.

Robyn gave Alison a hug. “I’ll call.”

“Do that.”

“And you call.” Ryan said.

Did he mean for her to call Robyn? Or Logan?
She watched them go down the stairwell.

She closed the door and locked it. She and Robyn had been together for five years. Now Robyn’s room was absolutely bare. She had even stored her bed and favorite chair.

The place felt empty. Alison picked up the brown paper bag, threw it in the wastebasket, then pulled it out again. Was she really too thin-skinned?
No, of course not.
She threw it back.

Yes. She was.
She pulled it out.

She should call him. He didn’t know where she lived, so if she decided after talking to him some more that she still didn’t want to see him, no harm was done. She looked down at what he had written.
His name, Logan, an email address and a phone number.

She would decide later. This time she laid it on the kitchen counter.

The freeway traffic slowed as it got near Safeco Field and Logan realized that a baseball game was going to start. By the time he was next to the stadium, traffic was barely moving.

Plenty of time to sit and think.

At least Alison didn’t have a boyfriend. She wasn’t engaged or married. And she’d held him at a distance, which had really intrigued him.

The cheap women were easy to get. They flocked around the player’s entrance at the stadium, called the hotel where the team was staying and made a general nuisance of themselves when they weren’t wanted.

When he’d been a rookie, it had been exciting, having two or three women vying for his attention.

They were interested in his fame, his money and the vicarious thrill they got from being with someone well-known. He’d long since lost the thrill of dating beautiful women, younger women, older women.

All sorts of women. No trouble at all. He could have them anytime he wished. Except he didn’t wish.

His mom was partly responsible for that. She was the standard he measured all others along side. A good woman, she didn’t stand for any nonsense from her husband or sons. She was a warm, loving woman and Logan wanted a wife just like her. He didn’t plan to settle for second best. He wanted a woman he could love and admire for the rest of his life. One he would be proud to introduce to his mother. Well worth the search if he could find such a one.

The things he could have said, should have said to Alison crowded into his mind as he sped along, cruising south on the I-5 freeway, arriving at Sea-Tac about twenty minutes before departure. He stopped at the rental area, dropped off the car and ran into the terminal.

The security check-in line at the airport snaked back and forth and Logan stopped when he saw it. Looked like he wasn’t going to make the plane after all. He stepped into line, resigned to having to wait for the next plane with an empty seat. He might miss the meeting he was supposed to attend with the coaches tomorrow morning. They wouldn’t like that at all.

An older man walked up behind him and did a double-take. “You look like... Are you.. Josh Logan? Green Bay?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! Imagine meeting you. I’m James.”

“Hello, James.”

 The man’s eyes went glassy. “Can I have your autograph?” He searched through his pockets for something for Logan to write on. “I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. I figured you would have gone out with the team.”

“A few of us stayed a couple of days to see the Seafair celebrations.”

“There are others here?”

James looked around, searching for players until Logan said, “No. Not here.”

“Seattle really creamed you guys, Friday.” He sounded apologetic.

“Practice game.” Which meant the starters didn’t stay in the game very long. He had been very happy when the coach had pulled him out and put in the backup quarterback.

“Why did you leave Tampa? You were doing great there last year.”

“They wanted someone younger.”

“That rookie?” James asked.

“He looked good to them.”

“Dallas has a rookie this year, too. What do you think of him?”

Logan hadn’t seen him play, so said, “Wait and see. That’s what you do with rookies.”

James kept checking his pockets as the line moved forward, finally pulling out a grocery list. “Here,” he thrust it at Logan, who took the wrinkled piece of paper, flipped it over and found a blank spot.

“I’ve got a fantasy team this year and have you in as quarterback.”

Logan grinned at him. “Guess I’ll have to play well, then.”

“I had you last year and you won for me.”

“So I’m playing for two teams now?”

“You’re playing for lots of teams, man. I bet over half the fantasy teams have you as their quarterback.” The man found a pencil and Logan dutifully signed his name.

“There you are.” He handed the man back his pencil and the slip of paper. James folded it carefully and tucked it in his wallet.

A small group was gathering around them. “Is that right? Are you Josh Logan with Green Bay?” one of them asked excitedly.

“Yes.” The security check-in point was quickly coming up. He could get away then.

“I have you as one of my two quarterbacks. So do several of my friends.”

It sounded funny when they said it that way. As if they owned a team. But fantasy football was the thing to do now.

“Why are you still here? We don’t want
you
in Seattle.” The voice was thick with animosity.

Logan looked at the last man who had spoken, taken aback by the intensity of the young man’s stare as he shoved his way into the line ahead of the small group. “Well, you’re in luck,” he told him. “I’m leaving.”
Jerk.

The young man shoved James aside to bring himself face to face with Logan. “What do you want his autograph for?” he said to the group. “He’s no good. The Minnesota quarterback, Mason Powell, is better.” He thrust his way forward and James retreated, still trying to stay in line.

Logan stepped aside and motioned James to move on past, putting himself in between the two. He really didn’t want to be next to the unpleasant young man, but also didn’t want the older man to be harmed because of him.

“What’re you doin’?” the younger man demanded, then tried to push his way past.

“Stay in line,” Logan said.

“Well, he went...”

“He’s my friend. We’re together.”

“Oh! Well!” The young man scowled at him, his nose crooked as if he had been in a fight and had never gotten it straight again.