Chapter 19

Monday, January 20, 2013

The Boston Globe—Sports

RIDERS GO TO MIAMI

CANNON-ARM BRENNAN DOES IT AGAIN!

The Riders held the lead from the first quarter of the play-offs with a hot defense. Three interceptions gave them possession for most of the clock, scoring two touchdowns right out of the box. Then, in the second quarter, the Redskins pushed back. But Dave Steinberg intercepted and stormed the field from his own end zone straight for a touchdown. That was just the first half!  

The Boston Riders are prime-time players. They have offense, they have defense, they have a running game, they have a throwing game.

“It’s all about trust,” Brennan says. “Trust in each other, in our coaches, and staying focused. Having 80,000 cheering fans yesterday was pretty good, too.”

But trust is only half the story. The other half is about leadership, and Brennan’s one of the best in the game. Maybe his success has to do with his style. It’s quiet. He gives the best of himself to the game, and expects the best from others. He leads by example. They don’t want to let him down. You want proof? Brennan’s taking Boston to the Super Bowl again!

#

Grace and Lisa’s Notebook—January 21, 2013

Dear Mom and Dad,

Evening has fallen quickly, as usual during our winters, and it’s already dark outside. Two memorial candles provide the only light, a soft glow that comforts me. Mass cards are propped open near the candles. It’s been four years since our personal holocaust, four years since we lost you—and I am still drowning.

I walk along the edge of two worlds: Delaney vs. Brennan. Mike returned from his successful play-off yesterday, totally pumped up about having another bite at the Super Bowl. I’m happy for him. I truly am. But these days are also about you. While Mike was away, we went to church, celebrating the mass we offered for you. Of course I understood that he had to go with the team, but he never mentioned you before he left last week and not yesterday, after he came home. 

I know his mind is on the game, but I’m afraid he acts more and more as though you’re now part of the past. A detail. According to him, we should have moved on. Made more progress. Especially Emily.

Her hand cramped from gripping the pen. Anger simmered and slowly rose again to the boiling point. Jumping to her feet, Lisa paced the length of the kitchen several times, took some deep breaths, and returned to her chair.

The four years sometimes feel like a hundred and sometimes feel like a day. I get confused. Time seems elastic, stretching and contracting whenever I think of you and what happened to us.

Mike was supposed to be my strength, but I depend mostly on myself now. Our outlooks are different, especially about how to handle the kids. I had such a good time in Woodhaven over Christmas, so happy to be with my friends and share memories. Maybe we should have stayed there.

Maybe Mike and I shouldn’t have gotten married. 

She reread the last line and crossed it out. Their relationship wasn’t that bad, was it? Life had become more stable with routines at work and home. She enjoyed her own job a lot more since she’d begun coaching a debate team for the school. Her siblings were doing what they were supposed to do. Jen, now twenty years old, was on her way to a great career; the boys, at thirteen, were accident-free despite their winner-take-all attitudes in whatever sport they played; even eleven-year-old Emily was coming along—slowly. Of course, Mike wanted to push her.

One thing she knew for sure: they were all surviving day by day, and that was the goal.

#

Mike waited two days until his aching body recovered from the play-offs and the kids were busy with homework before bringing up the trip to Miami.   

“Have you spoken with Emily and Jen about the Super Bowl weekend?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Of course, Jen is fine. But Emily wants to ask you some questions.”

“Great. I’m all about discussion. What does she want to know?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure—maybe about how airplanes stay in the air…? Science was not my best subject. So this conversation is all on you.”

He’d majored in the life sciences in college, with a lot of physical science on the side. Made dean’s list, too. No problem here.

He and Lisa walked upstairs to Emily’s room, stood in the doorway until she finished the piece of music she was playing. Although she’d played “Amazing Grace” for the family, the girl was beyond songs he could recognize easily. He did recognize melodies from Tchaikovsky and Mozart from time to time, but he couldn’t name any titles. Now, she seemed to be annoyed with herself.

“My bow strokes need more work. I need to improve the spiccato.”

Sure. Well, every vocation had its own vocabulary.  “What does your coach say?” asked Mike.

“Ms. Merri?” A dimple popped up. “You called her my coach!” She placed the instrument on her bed and stared at her hands. “I’m not ever playing football or basketball or any ball, not even with my brothers anymore.”

“Good decision, Em,” he said. “But we need to talk about the Super Bowl.”

“I know.” She dropped her gaze. “You want Lisa to go to Miami.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Together with you?”

“No. I go the week before the game. She flies down later.”

Her head snapped up; her eyebrows almost touched her hairline. “You won’t be on the plane together?”

He sensed her fear, squatted on the floor in front of her, and took her hands. “We’re on separate planes both ways, sweetheart. Flying is very, very safe, but God forbid something does happen, you won’t be left alone. I promise you that.”

She wrapped her eleven-year-old arms around him, tucked her head in the crook of his neck. He stood up easily, her weight still feather-light.  

“I love you, Daddy Mike.” 

“And I love you, Emily.”

“That’s good.” Then she wriggled out of his arms and picked up her violin.

“So, we’re okay with the Super Bowl?” Mike asked. 

Her eyes clouded, her forehead puckered. “I don’t know yet. I’m still scared.”

“But you’ll try to be brave, right?” he coaxed. 

Lisa knelt by her sister. “You think about it, okay? Talk with Dr. Julie. But it’s your choice. We’re not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do. No one’s going to be angry with you.”

Mike bit his lip. They left Emily to her music, and went back downstairs.

“You’ve given her a way out,” Mike said as soon as they were out of earshot. “She was almost there. She was focusing on being brave, and you blew it.” 

“Blew it? You were pushing her. And I don’t want her getting sick over this.”

“She makes herself sick, and nothing will change if she doesn’t take any steps forward. You build confidence by facing the things that scare you.”

“She’s building confidence with her violin because she so good at it.”

“The violin? You’ve got to be kidding. She loved playing from the first moment. The violin doesn’t scare her; it’s not a fear to overcome. She’ll probably be playing concertos before long, but that’s a skill challenge she wants and has nothing to do with what we’re talking about. She needs to overcome what frightens her. She needs to develop courage and be brave. Tell that to the damn therapist. Let her earn her money.” 

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned toward his wife. “The bottom line, Lisa, is that I want you with me. Last year, I swallowed it—your absence. But this year?  No. It’s the Super Bowl, Lisa.  The biggest day of the year across the NFL nation. I can’t do any better than that. I’m coming through for us, and you’re going to be there! Now, you figure out a way.”

#

With her smart phone in hand, Lisa sat in the reserved box in Miami with Mike’s parents, following the football action with part of her mind while the other part was back in Boston.  Silence had pounded against her ears after Mike’s ultimatum, and in that moment, she’d known everything between them was on the line. Intellectually, she couldn’t blame him. She’d also want her family with her at such an important event. But emotionally…she couldn’t throw Emily to the four winds. 

Instead, she bribed her. The child now had her own phone where she could touch base with Lisa whenever she wanted to, even on the plane. Very extreme, very expensive…but Lisa had no choice. After the weekend, when they were all home again, Em would see that traveling was a normal thing to do and would accept it. A first step to finding courage. That was the hope and should certainly satisfy Mike’s request. 

Jen jumped in to plan a Super Bowl party for the kids. Doug would be there, too. She’d hugged Lisa, urged her to go. “I’ll handle Emily. You go with Mike. He needs you there.”

Her in-laws were on their feet, screaming, Lisa scanned the field. The Rider’s wide receiver was zig-zagging toward the end zone, two defenders after him. But touchdown! And they were ahead by six. She joined in, excitement flushing through her, and she forgot about everything else, especially when the kicker made the point after. 

She finally allowed herself to absorb her surroundings, the colorful crowd, the energy, and the Florida sunshine in mid-winter. She grinned at Irene. “Really fabulous, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say. And if—if the Riders win…

“…Yeah. I know. Mike will make the history books along with Terry Bradshaw and Joe Montana. Two back-to-back wins.”  She pressed Irene’s arm. “He’s really talented. Special.”

“As long as he stays healthy!”

Her phone vibrated. “Hey, Em. Did you see that?”

“Yup. Everybody saw it on our big screen. Everybody was cheering. It was very noisy because we’re having a real party, not just Brian, Andy and me.”

Lisa gripped the phone as her body tensed. A real party?  “Where’s Jen?”

“I-I’m not sure. There’s a lot of people here. Maybe the kitchen. I’m upstairs. Can you come home now instead of tomorrow?”

Lisa took a deep breath, visions of disastrous teenage parties taunting her. But not Jen! Not Jen. She was a mature twenty.

“Emily – please find your sister, and I’ll stay on the line with you.”

“Okay.”

Finally, finally, Jen’s voice. “Hi, Lisa. Why are you calling in the middle of the game?”

“What’s going on there, Jen? What’s this party about?”

“Just some friends from school. Doug’s and mine.”

“You didn’t ask me first.”

“I didn’t know. It just kinda grew.”

Damn. The worst kind. “Is everything under control or do I have to fly home now? Or I could call Officer Ramos to check on your guests.”

“For God’s sake, Lisa. I’m not a baby. Everything’s fine. It’s a party, not a riot. Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t know, Jen. What I do know is that Emily is hiding in her room. And she shouldn’t be. You should have called me.”  She inhaled deeply. “I want them out—now.”

“The game’s not over!”

Lisa took a deep breath. “This isn’t a joke. I will not allow Mike’s beautiful house to be trashed by a bunch of kids who are there without our permission. You’ve got five minutes before Officer Ramos is at the door, arresting them for trespassing. Have you got that?” 

The dial tone buzzed in her ear. She called again and got Emily. “Everything’s fine, honey. They’re all leaving. But if you don’t want to watch the game, you can practice your fiddle.”

She heard the giggle and sighed in relief. Em would survive, but the phone slipped from Lisa’s sweaty palm. She should have stayed home.  

#

Dirt covered his uniform. His knee ached so badly that he limped to the microphone. He glanced toward the reserved box where his family sat. Lisa’s presence dissolved the pain, and Mike grinned as he hoisted the Lombardi Trophy over his head. 

In the Miami stadium, the Rider fans roared with approval. Their team, their win—their second win. They knew what their quarterback had just accomplished, of the elite company he’d be joining. The cheers continued throughout the entire arena. 

Wow! All he’d focused on was the game, but…wow!  He took it in. The packed arena. The color, noise, and happiness, all totally overwhelming. Humbled, Mike’s breath hitched in his throat in that surreal moment.  

He finally focused and gave a short speech of appreciation. For his teammates, for the Riders organization, for the NFL. He complimented the opposition. He raised the trophy toward Lisa and his parents. Gave a shout-out to ‘the kids back home,” promising to spend more time with them now.  He wanted to hug the whole world on this crazy and fabulous day. This, this was joy. Hope. Love. A new beginning because… 

Lisa had come to the game.

Except her mind was elsewhere. At the after party that evening, she smiled, kissed him, kept checking her phone, and didn’t hear a thing he said. 

He kept her at his side, made sure she chatted with everyone on the team. She knew some of the men and their wives already, and he gave her credit for feigning interest and making everyone feel special. Like a politician’s wife.

But he knew the difference between the real Lisa and the actress. 

He handed her a glass of champagne. “Have a drink. Relax. Tell me why you’re miles away.”

Her brow shot up. “I’m right here. With you. Like you wanted.”

“Yeah…” he said slowly. “Like I wanted, but you didn’t want…and obviously still don’t.”

She stood in silence for a moment. “I didn’t hide it. If my folks were alive…it would be different.” 

“That’s not news.”

With a flourish, she stepped away from him, champagne spilling from her glass.  “You want news? Well, here’s some. Jen had a party today, and not just for the kids. Emily called during the fourth quarter, and I threatened Jen with the cops. I think all is well, but”—she reached into her purse—“I’m calling the house again.”

Crap. He didn’t want to think about children, his home life. He didn’t want to fight with Lisa. He snatched the phone from her. “Let it be. I spoke with the boys ten minutes ago, and they didn’t say anything.”

Her eyes seared him. “They wouldn’t. You walk on water, and they’re not making waves.”

She’d never get it. He and the boys were real together. They pummeled and played, and he checked homework. He reminded them to help their sister. If something were wrong at the house, they would have told him.

Music filled the room. He looked around at the excited faces. His coaches were in heaven; the team’s owner had congratulated him and thanked him. The Riders rocked. And he rocked with them. There’d be another parade in Beantown in a few days, something he looked forward to. But now a shadow overrode the celebration.

“Before you turn victory into total defeat,” he said, “we’re ending this conversation. You’ve got the hang of this party—meet and greet. Smile. Pretend you’re happy for us. For me. It shouldn’t be too hard. Your husband’s a hero.”

She gasped, and her head jerked back as if he’d slapped her. One hand covered her mouth before she pivoted and scurried away. He tracked her path to the exit and didn’t follow. 

#

We can’t go on like this.  Lisa inserted her key into the house lock after her morning flight from Florida. Mike would follow later on his prearranged flight with the team. Hard-core Rider fans would be at Logan Airport to welcome them back. Heroes all.

She and Mike hadn’t spoken much after the party. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong subjects. Her heavy heart had kept sleep at bay, and she’d risen at first light, anxious to get back home. 

The house was quiet. Seemed Jen had gotten everyone off to school. One step toward redemption for her. Mike hadn’t seemed too upset about Jen’s homegrown Super Bowl party. Either the possibilities hadn’t registered, he didn’t care, or he was more concerned about his own party. Sighing, Lisa knew she couldn’t blame him for that. 

Blame. Blame. Blame. With every step up the stairs, the word echoed. 

Was their relationship only about conflict? Daily life had become more stable.  She enjoyed her own job more since coaching the debate team for the school. Her brothers and sisters were doing what they were supposed to do. Jen had made a mistake yesterday, but she wouldn’t make it twice. They were all surviving one day at a time. Good enough for her.  

She lifted her suitcase to the bed and began unpacking, paused, and sat down. Really? Was just surviving good enough? 

We can’t go on like this.

#

Maybe they shouldn’t have gotten married.   

Mike dozed on the plane home, knowing he’d be “on stage” once the team landed at Logan. His mind should have been on the meet-and-greet and the fans who waited. It should have been on the teammates who’d made it happen. It should have been on the bonus and his future with the Riders. But like a bear to honey, his thoughts turned to Lisa. Did she have regrets?

Admittedly, he was the one who’d pushed for a wedding after the tragedy. He hadn’t bargained, however, for a partial marriage. And that’s what they had. 

It was late afternoon by the time he walked into the house. Seemed pretty quiet for his gang. Maybe the kids had after-school activities? He stepped toward the kitchen and then heard, “Surprise!”

A big cake, homemade congratulations cards, and framed Super Bowl articles stood in the center of the table. An aromatic pile of pizza boxes waited on the counter.  Most important, a family of young, happy faces surrounded him and attacked with hugs, kisses, slaps on the back, and high fives. God, he loved these kids.

Lisa stood behind them, nodding, smiling. Only her eyes were shadowed. 

Good. The family celebration was about her siblings and him. But it might have been her idea. An olive branch? Like last year? Was she concerned about them—Lisa and Mike—and open to some honesty? He hoped so.

They couldn’t go on the way they were.  

#

The game had taken a toll, and after homework was done, no one protested an earlier-than-usual evening. Mike yawned and was not embarrassed. 

“Before I conk out, I need a count on who’s attending the parade on Wednesday. There’s a VIP section blocked off. You’ll miss school. So, who’s going?” 

“Me, me, me.”  Hands shot up.

“Emily! Great. You want to go this year?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Then include me,” said Lisa. “I’ll take another day off.”

“Not necessary,” said Mike slowly, looking from Lisa to her sister. “Emily’s older now. She’ll be fine with her brothers and Jen.”

His wife wanted to argue. He saw her expressions change quicker than kaleidoscope images, but she finally remained quiet. Discretion in front of the kids won the day. But that evening, he knew it wasn’t over between them.

Lisa was waiting for him in their bedroom, already in her nightgown, but pacing.  “About Emily…”

He held up his hands. “Not tonight. I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

“But you need to make arrangements tomorrow.”

“And I will. She wants to go. And I think she should. Without you.” 

He heard her inhale, ready to protest. He shook his head and preempted her.  “You know, Lis, I once thought we’d do everything together. Act as parents to your sisters and brothers together, and someday have children of our own. But you…you don’t let me in. And I don’t like it one bit. We were supposed to be a team.”

“You act like a kid…and the judge—”

“Forget the judge for a minute.” He stepped closer to her and spoke slowly. “The real question is: how many years is the accident allowed to reverberate? For how many years is it allowed to control you?”

She froze, and he knew he’d hit her sore spot. Her Achilles’ heel. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was undone…or frightened.

“I’m the guardian,” whispered Lisa. “You heard her in that courtroom. I have to take care of them as my parents would want. I can’t screw it up!” Her decibels escalated, her fear easy to read. 

“How can you be so smart and so ignorant at the same time?” asked Mike. “I was in that courtroom, too. The judge was talking about making the paperwork legal and living like a family. In real life, couples work together. A family lives together. The judge knew that. She hoped that would happen with us.

“For what it’s worth, coming from me—and I know you don’t value my opinion on these things—but you’re not screwing up the kids.” Hope gleamed in her eyes until he added, “But you are screwing up our marriage.”

Her chin came up. “It takes two people to do that, Michael.” She turned away and went into the ensuite bathroom, closing the door behind her.

#

She sat on the floor and cried. She cried until no more tears came. She cried until she heard a tap on the door. “Lis? Are you all right?”

“It’s open. I’ll get out.”

He stood in the doorway, looking very tall from where she rested. But she didn’t move. 

“I remember the day the police showed up at my door. I ran into the bathroom then, too, and vomited until I was empty.” Her parents were lost forever. And now Michael would be gone, too. 

He extended his hand. “Come on, stand up.”

She stood on her own, and a crooked grin appeared on Mike’s face. “’Atta girl. Uh…are we still friends, or do you want me to sleep downstairs?”

She jumped back. “Friends or not, after what you’ve been through?” She pointed at their bed. “It’s yours. Use it.” She nodded at the chaise lounge near the window. “I’ll—uh—sleep over there.”

His brows rose. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. Go to bed.”

An hour later, she gave up on the narrow day bed and crawled into her own. It was king-sized. Enough room for both of them without interference. Maybe she’d build a wall of pillows down the middle. Mike would say she was good at building walls.