Claire
“ZOEY?” I SHOUT out as I walk down the hallway that separates our offices. “Zo! You here?”
“Claire? Oh…thank God, Claire! HELP...I’m in my office.”
Walking down the hallway, which I designed, I get an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction. The Coach’s Shadow Foundation has surpassed my wildest dreams. When my little sister came to me with the idea two years ago, I laughed it off. Not because I didn’t think she could do it, but because the man that she was dead set on honoring was anything but honorable.
In the past two years, Zoey and I have worked our butts off to fulfill Mac’s wishes. To give inner city athletes a chance to better themselves through football. It’s a great foundation, and because of it I won’t have to work for the team much longer. This is my last season working for the Giants. I work for the organization, a liaison of sorts. One that deals with all of the CEOs, movie stars, and visiting politicians. It was a position that Mac instituted specifically for me, and unfortunately I was good at. Very good. It isn’t what I wanted to do with my life, but having a child at sixteen kind of put my true ambitions on hold. I wanted to be an interior designer. That’s where my true passion lies. No matter where I am, I redesign any room that I am in. Most people don’t know, but I am the one that designed the luxury suites at the new stadium. The good thing about my position with the team is I have become good friends with the upper echelon within MetLife. So, when I was asked what I would do to improve the suites and the experience within them, I didn’t hold anything back. It’s nice to know that they respected my opinion and allowed me to run with my ideas. Just like walking into the Foundation, I get a great sense of satisfaction every time I walk into one of the new suites. My mom encouraged me and my creativity, always said that creativity ran in the family—the Applebees, not the McEvoys.
The Coach’s Shadow Foundation originally started off just sending underprivileged athletes to the best camps in the country. Somehow, Zoey bullied, bitched, and finagled money out of the elite of the elite in the football world, and we now have an entire facility for our athletes to come to and have the coaches, referees, and professional players as mentors. This past summer was our first here at the facility; and we were a hit. Booked from the first of June right on up through next week. We even had two teams from Dallas, Texas in last week. The following two weeks are completely booked with AA college teams. At first I thought that the location of the foundation would be a detriment to us. Located lovingly close to the Giants training facility and MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, I figured that the team would over shadow the foundation. However, it is on track to becoming one of the best football camps, no matter the age, in the country.
I stop at a life-sized photo of my father and shake my head in disgust. Zoey insisted on us having an office for Mac, a man who has been dead for almost two and a half years. It’s her way of further honoring our father. And although I designed the entire facility, I refused to design or have any part in his office. In a lot of ways, I find it sick and have yet to step one foot into it.
Mac never did have any interest in my life, and after I got pregnant all he and momma cared about was making sure that the pregnancy was kept as quiet as possible. Jesus, Jami even wanted to say that Sasha was theirs. I wouldn’t allow that. She’s mine. Just like Zoey is, or at least I consider her to be. Hell, I’m the one that practically raised my little sister. Mac was too busy with his career and Jami was too busy being Jami Applebee McEvoy to be anything other than a figurehead.
Walking into Zoey’s office, I think how just over two short years ago she was so focused on the foundation and nothing else. Battling severe depression, an unhealthy exercise addiction, and an attempted suicide, my little sister is now sickeningly happy and strong—both mentally and physically. She’s now married to the one man that she has always loved and barely able to waddle her way through a full day because she is eight and a half months pregnant with twins. At five foot three she can barely get out of her chair by herself. Bed rest is in my sister’s future, no matter how much she tries to fight it.
I laugh and shake my head at the site that I have walked in to. Zoey on all fours, trying to—not so gracefully—get off the floor. “Jesus! How long have you been down there?” I hurry over to help her up.
“Stop laughing, Claire, I didn’t laugh at you when you were pregnant with Sasha. I have two of these demons inside me. I swear they take after Derrick. Only living to torture me!”
I grab my tiny sister; she is literally all babies. If she has gained twenty-five pounds that would be generous. Zoey still runs when she is stressed, and unfortunately that is the one thing Derrick has not been able to break her of. “How did you get down there and how long have you been down there?”
“Derrick thought it would be funny to play with me. Literally! You know how horny I am right now!” I cringe at my sister’s words but let her continue. “The bastard left me down here while he went to meet up with Matt. Laughing as he left! I have been down here for half an hour. It took me fifteen minutes just to get off my back! I looked like a freaking Weeble Wobble,” she says with a huff. “But I’ll get him and that damn dog he brought home too! Jerkoff thought that he could negotiate with me, Claire. With sex!”
I can tell by the slant of her head she’s serious. Zoey is an animal lover, has three dogs that she calls her babies. “The Boys” are more spoiled then my daughter, so I know that Derrick has pushed his wife one step too far. It was one thing coming home with a new puppy, and another all together to say that the boys are too old to enjoy newborns. That was like lighting a fire under my overprotective sister. She packed an overnight bag and all three dogs and came to my house. Which Derrick promptly followed, like the lovesick fool he is, with the new English bulldog he’d bought. Don’t get me wrong, Fumble is adorable, but not if you are almost nine months pregnant and have to train him on your own. Which is the case as Derrick is about to leave his very pregnant wife for training camp. With twins on the way and four dogs at home, I’d want to kill him too.
As it is, I have been asked by Coach Miller if I wouldn’t mind keeping Jackson’s dog during training camp. “We know how much you McEvoy girls love your animals.” My ass, I was ambushed! But Jackson is dropping Legs off tomorrow. So you tell me who’s the fool!
I have to admit that Legs is an amazingly beautiful Australian Herding dog. All white with black and tan mixed into her coat. And those eyes of hers…she looks at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and you’re hooked. I just hope that she and Dallas, my Chiweenie, get along. Because if they don’t, that bitch is out in the backyard. No one messes with my Dallas.
Thinking of Legs makes me think about Jackson. I have to admit, even if only to myself, that I do enjoy watching the man walk across a football field. He makes workout shorts and a backwards baseball hat look good. But admiring is exactly where my thoughts and feelings are going to remain. From a distance.
No one knows of my connection to Jackson, or Jack as he likes to be called, and that’s exactly how I want it. I have avoided as much contact with him as I could without it jeopardizing my job or giving anything away to my family and friends. Of course he tolerates a lot from me, and quite frankly I enjoy pushing him to his limits. Plus, the man is too damn good looking for his own good. Knocking him down a peg always brings joy to my sadistic heart. He was esthetically pleasing twenty-three years ago, and age has only benefited him.
As my mind starts to wander, which seems to happen often lately, I start thinking about what I have to still arrange for the Cowboys-Giants game. It’s the only game that I have yet to complete for the season. It’s the biggest game of the year for the team and everyone wants special treatment. You would think that working for the Giants organization they would be my favorite team, but they aren’t. I’m a Dallas Cowboys fan through and through. Mac used to say that it was to piss him off. He was probably right about that. But now I secretly wear a Cowboys t-shirt under my Giants tee on game days because I don’t want it to burn my skin.
Zoey is babbling on, I haven’t been paying much attention, but her next words draw me back into the conversation. “I’m so glad that it was you that found me and not Jack. He’s due any minute and I don’t think that I could’ve handled the humiliation,” she says, leaning over and holding her very pregnant belly with one hand and the desk with the other.
“Zoey, seriously, why do you even care what Jackson thinks?
“Claire, drop the bullshit. Why do you call Jack Jackson? And why do you do it in that pissy tone of yours?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Zoey. I don’t have a pissy tone.” Zoey raises her eyebrow at me and waves her hand in my direction. “This is not a pissy tone, Zoey Elizabeth. I just hate having to show people around, I’m tired of it, I have been doing it my entire adult life.”
“I call bullshit! You love being the ‘Cruise Director,’ what’s up? And don’t you dare say nothing. I have known you my entire life and know that you are lying to me.” She pauses and takes a breath, but then her eyes light up and I know I’m in trouble. “You know, Suzie researched Jack when he came to the team. Did you know that he played for Mac?” Leaning as far forward as her pregnant belly will allow without toppling over, she points her finger at me and says, “You knew Jack didn’t you? You knew him when he played for Daddy?”
“Jackson was a Giant for like two minutes, Zoey. Do you know how many players I have met in the past eighteen years? I have a hard time remembering who I met last week, never mind who I met twenty-two years ago.” It’s a poor attempt at discouraging my sister.
“Oh. My. God. Claire. You knew him! You said eighteen initially and then you corrected yourself with the actual amount of years that Jack dropped off the face of the earth.” Finally standing to her full height, Zoey looks over to me from the corner of her desk. “And do not lie to me, you practically raised me, Claire. I want the truth. Or I’m going to sic Suzie on you.”
Suzie has been Zoey’s best friend since their freshman year of high school. I’m happy that they found each other, however, my sister’s best friend is a computer savant of sorts. So Zoey’s threat of siccing Suzie and her overly talented computer skills on me are the last thing that I want.
In a final ditch effort I say, “What the hell, Zoey! Nothing is going on with Jackson. The man just drives me batty. That is all. End of conversation.” Jackson is always around, always wants to talk, wants to hang out. But Zoey isn’t buying what I’m selling. I can tell by the look on her face. Damn Jami, our mother, for teaching us to never let loose of anything. That woman would beat a dead horse to hell and back if there was information to be had.
“Christ, Claire, you did know him! You are avoiding the Jack topic like the plague.”
"Enough…Your pregnant brain is over reacting and looking for a mystery to solve. I have to get my day started.” Turning my back on my sister, I do my best to not stomp out of her office.
“You mean you need to prepare for Jack’s dog! You do know her name right? Legs...That’s what Derrick says he calls you!” Zoey shouts as I slam out of her office.
I should have left the bitch on the floor!