Cabin Fever (6 page)

“Dad is a very lucky guy,” Sarah said. “How is he liking the archeology?”

“Not so much. If you ask me, he should have known that an archeological tour would involve some digging in the sun, but it apparently came as a surprise. He has a sunburn.”

“And all sorts of women ready to rub lotion into his shoulders.”

“Oh! Thanks for putting that image in my head. Let’s change the subject. You’ve been out and about? See any cute guys?”

“Not a one. And I’m not up here for romance, in any case. I’m here for peace and quiet, remember?”

“Well what’s so wrong with peace, quiet, and some hot loving? Those things are great in combination.”

“Ellie, stop.”

“What? You need a man, girl. You’ve gone without for far too long already. You’re hot, you’re single, and now you have plenty of free time on your hands. If you don’t spend at least some of that time sweaty, naked, and wrapped in some guy’s arms, then I will be sorely disappointed in you.”

“Ellie!”

“You’d prefer to be sweaty, naked, and wrapped in some woman’s arms?”

“No!”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll introduce you as my spinster sister. That will be great.”

“I’m not a spinster! I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.”

“You’re never ready. Besides, who’s talking about a relationship? Just find someone tall and handsome and see where nature takes you.”

“All the guys I’ve seen so far have been short and old.” She knew she was being unkind – the grocer wasn’t that old, though he was at least ten years older than she was – but she wanted to bring this conversation to a stop. Ellie had years ago decided that, if she didn’t hound her sister to take an interest in the opposite sex, then nothing would ever happen. And Sarah was interested; she was very interested. It was just that she always seemed to be interested in something else a little bit more.

“They can’t all be old and dumpy.”

“Well, maybe not, but so far I haven’t seen ‘sweaty and naked’ material, and honestly, that’s OK. I’ve got some serious problems in my life, Ellie. I need to think long and hard about what to do about them. Later, what you’re talking about will be great, and I really do look forward to it. But right now I can’t afford the distraction.”

“OK! I’ll let it go. But please, promise me one thing: if you see Mr. Right, or even Mr. Maybe, try to leave yourself open to possibility. Don’t shut everyone out just so you can keep to some big life plan you’ve made for yourself.”

“I promise. I do. I promise to give Mr. Right a chance. I’m not sure about Mr. Maybe, though. That can’t possibly be his given name. What is he hiding, I wonder?”

“Very funny. I gotta go – I’ve got a lecture in fifteen minutes, and I need to pull my notes. Love you!”

“Love you too. Bye,” Sarah said, and thumbed the phone off. She lay for a while, looking at the ceiling, and briefly she considered taking a nap, but the lure of the rocking chair was too strong. She got up, poured herself a second glass of wine, and walked back out to the porch.

Just as she got there, the peace and quiet was broken by the loud buzzing of a chain saw from not too far away. “Oh, great,” Sarah muttered, and glared in the direction of the noise that promised to ruin her afternoon.

6

Cutting firewood was always a trip down memory lane for Brad. He could remember when it seemed like a great adventure to take the saw in his hands, smell the gasoline from where it had sloshed a little bit as he poured it into the tank, and pull the cord with a single, violent motion to feel it come alive in his hands. Back then the fact that using a chain saw could be dangerous had been part of its appeal. That meant that his father believed that he was capable of taking care of himself. That meant that he could be trusted to use tools by himself. It meant that he was, or at least was close to becoming, a man.

Now it wasn’t as thrilling and romantic as it used to be, but Brad was still able to take satisfaction in the task. Cutting firewood was hard work, which was why he was happy to take it on for his father, whose back wasn’t getting any better these days, particularly with the gut he’d developed since he moved here after Brad’s mother passed away. With the roar of the saw drowning out all the background noise, Brad could sink into the task and let his thoughts take him. It was funny, he knew, but he always thought that working with the saw was kind of peaceful. It was noisy, sure, but the noise created a bubble in which he could be alone with his thoughts.

And the truth was, Brad had a lot of thoughts these days, and he didn’t know what to do with most of them. He wasn’t going to be playing any more football, that was for sure. If he ever forgot that fact, the ache of his knees when he got out of bed in the morning served as a dull, throbbing reminder. He had managed to play through three surgeries, two on the left knee and one on the right, but the damage piled up to the point where he couldn’t really run anymore. Unless you’re a kicker or a quarterback, you have to be able to run. A slow NFL player is an ex-NFL player. Brad had been in the league for seven years, which was longer than most, and in that time he’d seen plenty of veterans who wore out their bodies and were forced to clean out their lockers. He had always known that sooner or later it would be his turn, and now, at last, it was.

He understood why the team didn’t want him back, but still it was hard to accept. He wasn’t even thirty years old, but he was already washed up. Part of him felt like his life was over. He probably had another forty years to go before he’d cash in his chips, and right now that seemed like a lot of living to do without football. Brad considered himself a pretty down-to-earth guy. Even when he was making more money than he could spend, his closet was full of the jeans and flannel shirts that he wore every day. He didn’t need the money, but he had to admit that he missed the glory, the roar of the crowd, and the way people’s eyes would light up when they recognized him on the street or in a restaurant. Playing football in front of a hundred thousand fans was an incredible rush.
 

And then there were the women. Oh man, the women!
 

He wasn’t ready to give that all up. Not yet, and maybe not ever. It worried him that he might take that feeling, that mixture of longing and regret, with him to his grave. Of course, there might be a way to get back to the show, but Brad wasn’t ready to talk with anyone about that yet. It was still just an idea in the back of his head that he turned over and over as if it were a quarter he found on the street, considering whether the chance of success that it offered was worth the steep cost that he’d have to pay.
 

He put a boot on the log in front of him and cut deeply into it, the saw chattering in his strong hands. His father’s wood-burning stove had a narrow mouth, so he had to cut the logs into narrow chunks that would fit through it when you were feeding the fire. The saw chewed through wood fiber and sent powerful vibrations up through his hands, up his arms, and into his shoulders and chest as sawdust flew up into the air. All things considered he didn’t notice the woman until she was standing nearly in front of him, her hands on her hips in a universal gesture that meant, “I am really mad at you right now.”
 

Brad flipped the saw off and, while the motor wound down, drank in the sight of her. She wasn’t too tall – she came up maybe to his shoulders – but she was slender, and from what he could tell she had lots of nice things under those clothes. Not big in the chest area, sort of petite, but Brad liked that in a woman. She had long hair that at first he took for blonde, but then he realized that she had those highlights done that left streaks of darker hair beneath the lighter. Her face wasn’t quite beautiful, but she was certainly pretty – very pretty – and her eyes were amazing, sort of a hazel color that really caught the light. Brad knew that he was staring, but he didn’t care. Since he’d come to stay with his father he hadn’t met up with very many attractive women, and this one was a sight for his very sore eyes.

Her arms were crossed now, and she seemed to be waiting for him to say something. “Ummm, hello?” he offered.

“You didn’t hear me.”

“Hear you what?”

“Of course you didn’t hear me, what with the unbelievable racket that thing was making! First I asked if you could turn it down. Then I asked again, louder. Then I shouted it. I was starting to think that I would have to throw a rock at you to get your attention.”

“I’m sorry, but I honestly didn’t hear any of that. And no, I can’t ‘turn it down.’ It’s a chain saw. That’s what it sounds like.”

“Well, could you use it some other time? I’m trying to relax.”

“I’ll be done soon.”

“And I’ll be insane soon, if I have to keep listening to that saw! Please, could you just cut wood some other time? It was really nice on my porch with the sound of the birds and the wind in the trees, and now I can’t hear anything but you.”

“I’m not breaking any laws. That’s what people do around here. You’re going to hear a lot of saws, and sometimes it will be when you want to listen to the birds. That’s the way it is.”

“So you refuse?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll finish later. But next time you might think about asking nicer.”

“Next time? Oh, wonderful. I really look forward to that.” Without another word she spun on her heel and stomped away. Brad watched her go. It was a shame – finally there was a good-looking woman in town, and it turned out she was kind of a bitch.

Walking away, Sarah felt a mixture of satisfaction and regret. On the one hand, she had stood up for herself and asked for what she wanted, and now she had a chance to reclaim what was left of her quiet afternoon. On the other hand, she had finally come across an attractive man in Tall Pines, and she already knew that she didn’t like him. Oh well, she thought. He looked like a jock. If Sarah had one principle that she applied to the vestigial remnants of her love life, it was that she didn’t date jocks, even jocks with curly brown hair and shockingly blue eyes.

As she was getting back to her cabin, Sarah realized that she had never thanked him for agreeing to stop using his saw. She felt a twinge of regret at that; Sarah hated rudeness. In any case, it was too late to go back now. If she saw him later, she’d remember to apologize.

7

Later that evening Brad sat on the couch next to his father, like he did every night, pulling on a beer and staring at the fire in the fireplace, like they did every night. He didn’t like how much he was getting used to this. When he first arrived, he made fun of the way his father had fixed the place up. It was like a museum of manliness, what with antlers mounted on the wall, resting on the mantelpiece, and even hanging from a light fixture. The deer’s head on the wall and the fishing rod propped up next to the fireplace only completed the picture. It was painfully obvious that no woman had been in this cabin for far too long. Certainly none since his mother had died.

When he arrived, that all had seemed funny, but now it was starting to feel like home. Brad didn’t want to feel at home in Tall Pines. Feeling at home here meant that he was never getting back to the bright lights and the roar of the crowd. Feeling at home here meant that he’d spend the majority of his life tucked away in an obscure corner of the world. That was good enough for some people, his father included, and Brad didn’t fault them for it. He could see the appeal, and if they were happy then they were doing the right thing for themselves. He wanted more, though. He wanted a lot more.

And so maybe it was time to talk about his idea. “Dad, I’ve been thinking,” he started tentatively.

“That’s always been a bad sign,” his father growled.

Brad ignored him. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I’d like to go into coaching.”

His father looked over at him, his beer bottle poised halfway to his mouth. Finally he gave a slow nod and took a swig from the bottle. “I could see that. Tough line of work, though.”

“The toughest,” Brad agreed. “Those guys never get out of the office. I knew one guy, a coach I played for a few years back, he went three months during the season without once going home. He slept on a cot in his office and ate all his meals in the film room. He had a wife and child, I know, but he couldn’t have seen them much. The hours are ridiculous.”

“Not much pay in it, either.”

“No, the pay sucks. When I’m first starting out, I may not be paid at all. I know more than a few coaches who started out as volunteers.”

“No job security, either.”

“Nope. Those guys get fired all the time. One bad season and you’re out on your ass.”

“So what’s in it for you?”

Brad leaned forward. “A chance. If I’m good at it, if I put my heart and soul into it, I have a chance to coach in the NFL. I’ll never play again, but this way I can be part of it. It’s my only chance.”

His father was silent for a long time. “What about the rest of it?” he finally asked.

“The rest of what?”

“The rest of life. A wife. Children. A home. You don’t want any of that?”

“I want it. I just…”

“What?”

“I can’t settle, Dad!” Brad’s voice was louder than he intended it to be, and he took a breath to calm himself down. “I’ve been there. I’ve been on top. I’ve seen what it’s like, and I can’t just shrug and let it go. My knees are a mess, but I still have dreams, Dad. I can’t just let them go, not if I want to be happy, not if I want to make someone else happy.”

“You think you can find a lady who will put up with you never being home?”

“Maybe I could, but I’m not going to try. It would be cruel to ask someone who loves me to wait around while I’m busy somewhere else. I’m not that selfish. I won’t do it.”

“So it’s no to a family, then?”

“For now. Maybe I’ll bomb out. Maybe I’ll suck as a coach and will have to give that up, too. But as long as I still believe that I have a chance to get back to the pro’s as a coach, I’m going to give it everything I have. And that means no family, not yet. Not until I can do it right.”

“Anyone looking to hire you?”

“Not yet. I haven’t talked about this with anyone but you. But I know a few guys to call. I thought I might start with my alma mater. If they don’t have an opening, I might volunteer as an unpaid assistant. I have money left over. I can make it work for a while. Long enough to get a paying job, if I’m good enough.”