Quarterback Daddy (15 page)

Ally walked among the newspapers and magazines that were spread all over the floor of the game room. She’d collected two weeks’ worth of articles since the
Patriots had won the AFC conference championship last Sunday against the Chiefs after defeating the San Diego Chargers the week before. Tomorrow, Dan and the team would be flying to Houston for a week of publicity and practice before the hoopla next Sunday against the Chicago Bears.

Now, he was reading a book to Michelle as though he hadn’t a care in the world. And why shouldn’t he, when his daughter’s face lit with joy every time she saw him.

“Where’s the caterpillar, Michelle?”

Either the baby’s little hand happened to touch the hungry caterpillar, or Dan nudged it in the right direction. Regardless, the proud daddy beamed.

“Correct, again! You are so smart, Michelle. And Daddy loves you so much.” He kissed her on the belly, causing her to giggle.

Alexis paused among her headlines to look at the other two. They adored each other. Soon, the three of them would be a real family, with all the legal bows tied up nicely. Knocking on Dan’s door in October was the best thing she could have done. That autumn day seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet, it also felt like yesterday.

“Time is like a rubber band,” she said, “stretching and contracting.”

Dan glanced at her, brows raised. When she explained, he agreed. “When you’re unhappy or ill, one day is a hundred years long,” he said. “But when you’re happy, time flies by. So, I’m guessing you’ve been happy lately. At least, I’m hoping.”

She kneeled on the floor next to him and Michelle,
cupped Dan’s face and leaned close, her lips touching his. “When did you get so smart?” she whispered.

“Can’t let my almost wife outdo me in the brainy department,” he joked.

And for a few minutes, they needed no words.

“I love you, Dan Delito,” she whispered. “So, please come out whole after the game. Life is more fun when time flies.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “And I’ll do my best.”

H
E
’
D TAKEN CARE OF PERSONAL
responsibilities before leaving—paying bills, checking with Maria and Ally about household matters, reserving a separate suite for the family at the hotel, arranging with Louis to take his folks, Joe, Mary Ann and Ally to the airport—and giving the man a hefty cash gift for all he’d done that season. All the kids, including Michelle, would stay home with Theresa and Larry.

On the chartered jet taking them to Houston, Dan studied each member of his team, evaluating their strengths and weaknesses against Chicago. It was his fourth trip to the Super Bowl. He’d lost once and didn’t want to lose again. Although he’d arrive with more maturity this time, his excitement was just as high as when he played the first time. He glanced at the ring he wore on his left hand now—his first earned ring. That had been a great day.

Kim had been there, of course. His parents, too. The victory had overwhelmed the young Turk he’d been. They’d all partied into the night after the ceremonies and official duties were over.

If they won again next Sunday, he’d wear the new ring. If they didn’t win, he wouldn’t wear any. In honor of Ally and Michelle, in honor of a new beginning. But he wanted to win. To be the provider. To show Ally she could count on him. His future life beckoned, a future he desired very much.

Time to talk with the coaches and management. He wanted every edge he could get for the team, and if his new idea made him unpopular with the players for a while, so what? They’d love him in the end—when they won.

That night after dinner, the team gathered in a private meeting room. At the appropriate time, Dan stood.

“I’ll make this brief. I’ve done a little research, and I’m instituting a new rule about family visits. There will be none. When our families arrive at the end of this practice week, they will not visit us in our rooms. None of us need kids crying next door while we’re studying. I sure don’t and neither do you.”

Silence greeted him, then some low grumbling.

“I thought Diaper Dan liked babies.”

Dan stood his ground, echoing Ally’s words. “This is a business trip, gentlemen. The same as other men with families take. What they don’t take are their kids.”

He leaned on the table in front of him. “We’re here to do a job—
the
job. I’m here to win. In order to win, we practice hard with no distractions from family. That might be exactly the little edge we need against a tough competitor like Chicago.”

On the field, they’d follow his every call, every movement. They’d protect him in every way they could.

Now, Dan began to sense a similar tension in the air—the hum of possibility.

He slowly looked from one man to the other. “Any more questions?”

One hand went up. “Do you know something we don’t?”

“Yeah. I know I want to win.”

“And I want to know, where’s the victory party?”

The men started to smile. They were all on board now.

A
LEXIS CHEERED AS LOUDLY
as anyone, but her nerves were shot by the end of the first quarter, even though the Patriots were leading 7–0. Once again, she didn’t know how she’d make it through the entire game without falling apart. She tried. She really tried to step back, relax and repeat her new mantra—Dan knows what he’s doing, Dan knows what he’s doing. It worked for about a minute, then she’d start getting nervous all over again.

She glanced at Dan’s family to see them all with grins spread across their faces.

“Ally has the right idea,” said Joe with a wink. “Not counting her chickens yet, so she’s not cracking a smile.”

Smile? She felt nauseous. “I’m just glad he’s not hurt.” Yet.

“Remember, he’s trained for this, Ally, and right now, he’s thinking like a winner. In fact, this is one of his best games ever. Right, Dad?”

“They’re evenly matched,” said Nick.

“And that’s too darn bad,” Rita countered, a comment with which Alexis agreed.

By the end of the half, the Bears had made a comeback and had taken the lead, 10–7. Joe’s belief never wavered, but Ally kept quiet. Each time Dan caught the snap, she stopped breathing, inhaling again only when he successfully passed the ball downfield. When he was sacked in the second quarter, she couldn’t breathe at all.

“My stomach’s in knots,” she said.

“So is mine,” said Rita. “Let’s get an ice cream.”

Ally giggled. “Food. Your answer to everything is food.”

“You bet. I can think of worse things.”

Ally could, too, but she didn’t want to go there today. The past was over.

Thirty minutes later, the teams retook the field. From that moment until the last down, Ally remained in her seat, eyes riveted to Number 8.

The third-quarter play was brutal, with each team providing a gritty defense. No touchdowns scored by either team. The Bears eked out one field goal; the Patriots came up with two, tying the score at 13 when the fourth quarter began. The teams certainly were well-matched, but Ally couldn’t appreciate that nuance.

At this point, Ally didn’t care who won. She just wanted it over. Around her, she heard Mary Ann talking to Joe, sensed Rita’s presence, heard the men’s shouts and cheers as though in an echo chamber. She was in her own space, her own world, with Dan.

How, in God’s name, could the fourth quarter be tougher than the third? She was afraid to cover her eyes. Afraid not to be there for Dan if something bad happened. As the clock ticked down, neither team ran enough yardage to get close enough for a field-goal
attempt. As for a TD, forget about it. Until the very last pass in the very last minute of the game.

Instantly, Ally whirled toward the family. “Did you see that? What he did? Ohmygod! We won!”

T
HE STERLING SILVER
Lombardi Trophy seemed to glow in the Houston sunshine. Dan’s pulse beat double time as the NFL Commissioner presented the prestigious award to the Patriot’s owner right after the game in front of a worldwide audience of over 130 million people.

They’d done it. His team had done it, by a score of 19–13. It had been an exciting game, a hard-fought game where they’d grappled for every yard in the air and on the ground. But in the end, his guys had come through. The defense had done a great job in holding the Bears to thirteen points. The offense had managed the critical touchdown in the last minutes. The fans had gotten into it, and Dan was still in one piece. Ally would be happy.

The trophy ceremony was over, and the commissioner seemed prepared to speak again.

“On behalf of the National Football League, and the Patriots’ management and coaching staff, we would like to present at this time, the MVP Award for the Super Bowl–winning New England Patriots. By unanimous vote, will quarterback Dan Delito step forward?”

Was that his name? Someone pushed him from be
hind, and then he was at the microphone, shaking hands with all the big shots.

“Say something to the fans, Dan.”

The mike was in front of him now. Saying thank-you was a good way to start.

“It was a team effort. A quarterback is nothing without good receivers, and the offense counts on the defense to do their job. The Bears put up a good fight, so winning today is something to be proud of. We all did our jobs well today, so thank you. I loved every minute of it!”

He stepped back, hoping he’d made some sense. The crowd was still cheering, so maybe he had.

Al Tucker shook his hand. Didn’t say a word. Then, one by one, they all came, the ones who’d played actively that day and the ones in reserve. Not a lot of words. It didn’t matter.

Later, the words came fast and furious in the locker room. So did the traditional Gatorade waterfall over head coach Rick Thompson. A case of chilled champagne was opened, the bottles distributed to every player, and each man imbibed and celebrated. They chatted with sports reporters from all media. Especially Dan Delito. Every writer wanted a piece of him. He answered question after question, quenching his thirst from his bottle as he went along.

In the outside stadium, the locker room activities were shown on the jumbo screens at each end of the field. Most of the fans stayed glued to the indoor action, including Dan’s family and Ally.

A
LLY STARED SO HARD AT
the screen, her eyes burned. Bit by bit, her body became numb—feet, legs, stomach,
arms, fingers. A wave of dizziness attacked. Then a chill. Finally, pain sliced through her so sharply, she doubled over in her seat.

Her beautiful world had collapsed right before her eyes.

She should have known! She shouldn’t have trusted him. An entire bottle of champagne? The one time, the very first time, she’d given her heart to a man, she’d been betrayed.

Love wasn’t logical. But it should be.

She had to get out of Houston, fly home, air out her condo, find a job. Take her life back. She took a big breath and set the dial on her heart to deep-freeze. She’d cry later—if she defrosted again.

After telling Rita she had a headache, Ally made her way to the large suite the family shared and got on the phone. Ten futile minutes later, she was at a loss. Every plane to Boston was booked solid. She’d have to punt. Isn’t that what Dan always said?

So, she’d put on a smile, attend the victory party that evening and keep everything nice-nice. She’d had a lot of experience in pretending when she was a kid, a lot of experience in hiding what was going on in her home and in her head. She could do that today.

Tomorrow, however, would be a different story.

T
ODAY HAD BEEN ONE
of the best days of his life, and the evening promised to be even better. Two hours after the game, Dan stepped out of the shower in his own hotel room, shaved and dressed in party casual—slacks and a dress shirt open at the collar.

As usual, every muscle ached despite the massage
he’d received from the trainers after the news conference. He popped an ibuprofen and shrugged. When he finally saw Ally, he wouldn’t care about an ache or a pain.

He brushed his hair, swished with mouthwash and examined himself in the mirror. Satisfied all was in place, he left to join his family in their suite. To join Ally. Tonight, he’d show her off to his buddies. Introduce her as his fiancée. A perfect event, perfect timing.

Five minutes later, he was surrounded by his folks, his brother and Mary Ann, slaps on the back, lots of noise. Behind them stood Ally.

She stepped toward him in a sexy green cocktail dress, high-heeled sandals and long gold earrings. Heat blasted his body. That woman could turn him on like no one else.

“Congratulations, Dan. You worked hard for this.” Without meeting his glance, she pecked him on the cheek. “Oops, got lipstick on you.”

Who cared? Something was wrong. Her smile was forced, definitely wasn’t reaching her eyes. His good feelings evaporated.

He touched his forehead to hers. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

She startled, her complexion paled, and he went on alert. He didn’t want to play
Gotcha.
Not with this woman.

“Headache,” she said, leaning away, rubbing her temple. “I had to come up here to the suite right after the game.”

He exhaled with relief. The game had been hard on her. “I’ve got some generic meds in my pocket. I just took one myself. Here you go.”

Her hand was ice-cold when she touched his. Maybe she had more than a headache, maybe she was sicker than she let on.

“Honey, if you’re really not feeling well, you don’t have to put yourself through all the hoopla and noise that goes with the show downstairs.” He kissed her forehead, and lingered a moment. “Mom used to do that to see if we had a fever. Truthfully, I can’t really tell, but if you’re sick, you stay here.”

So, why did she look like she was going to cry?

“Just give me an hour to lie down, and I’m sure I’ll be all right. I’ll find you in the ballroom. Go, go, everyone. I’ll see you later.”

She took her shoes off and lay on the couch in the living room—her assigned bed, he supposed, the two bedrooms being occupied by the couples.

He kneeled on the floor beside her. “There’s tight security, so here’s your admission ticket to the ballroom.” He handed it to her, kissed her again. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling bad.”

“Not as sorry as I am.”

S
HE
’
D EITHER LOST SOME
of her acting ability, or she couldn’t keep a secret from Dan. That was her conclusion after an hour of thought. Long ago, she could have fooled the world with her pretending skills. Today, she couldn’t divert the one person she wanted to. Of course, she loved that one person, which was why she’d fallen apart.

She put on her sexy sandals, refreshed her lipstick and headed out the door, ID in hand. She’d go to this shindig, her last hurrah with Dan. He deserved this
honor, and he deserved her cooperation, at the very least.

As soon as she entered the crowded room, he was beside her, his face alight as if he’d glimpsed his personal heaven.

“I was watching for you. Feeling better?”

“Good enough to help you celebrate.”

In the crowd of football players and their families, she was able to paste on her smile and keep it there. From one group to another, Dan led her around, sometimes introducing her as “the best touchdown he’d ever made.”

“So, when’s the big day?” asked his friend, Al Tucker.

“You’ll be the first to know,” laughed Dan. “We’re not quite there yet.”

“Lots of things have happened recently,” said Ally. “We’re still catching our breaths.”

The good wishes continued throughout the evening. Even on the dance floor, people waved cheerfully at them, filling Ally with pleasure and pain. But for Dan it was all pleasure. A perfect evening. She saw to that.

Just as her mother would have done for Cal.

She tripped midstep. Where had that idea come from? She would never, ever become an enabler like Peggy. She’d promised herself a million times to do everything exactly the opposite way her parents had.

“Easy, baby. Headache back?”

Not the kind he thought.

“Just clumsy.” She smiled up at him, and that’s all it took for him to kiss her as if he meant it.

“I love you, Ally, and I can’t wait to get home.”

“I can’t wait, either. We have a lot to do.” Like getting on with their separate lives.

“Yup. Exactly.” He tightened his embrace, and they danced as though they’d been dancing together for years.

She would remember every touch, every kiss, the comfort of those arms around her, the broad chest and the love shining in his eyes. This was her Cinderella moment with the prince. The story would end later, of course. She’d run away to her condo, remove the strappy sandals and put on her practical pumps again.

They joined his family a few minutes later. Their reserved table was crowded with extras.

“Working the crowd, guys?” asked Dan, patting his dad and brother on the shoulder while greeting everyone. “Anybody thirsty? I’m going to the bar.”

He looked at Ally. “Thirsty, Ally? Want a drink?”

“Yes. Whatever you’re having.” The words rushed out of her mouth, and she hated herself for setting a trap.

“Be right back,” he said, his glance lingering on her for a long moment.

True to his word, he returned quickly, looking like a waiter with a round tray filled with drinks. He distributed the rest, then handed her an ice-cube-filled highball glass of pale amber liquid laced with tiny bubbles. He took an identical one and raised it in a toast.

“Here’s to Michelle. May she grow up knowing how to love and trust.” Accent on the last word.

Ally almost dropped her glass. Trap him? She was the one caught, a novice manipulator compared to Dan, who was a master at complex plays.

“Amen.” She took a sip. Ginger ale. Despite the
heat of an embarrassed blush, she met his glance and nodded.
Touché.

She spent an uncomfortable night on her couch in the family suite. Dan hadn’t invited her to his room.

O
N THE PLANE BACK TO
Boston the next afternoon, Dan kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep. In another few minutes, however, he wouldn’t have to pretend. He’d tossed and turned in his lonely bed after last night’s festivities, barely able to rest. Ally should have been with him, but he was emotionally scattered—high on victory, but raw with Ally’s distrust. Not to mention his need for more ibuprofen. He ached all over, and normal recovery usually took almost two days.

It was better for him and Ally to have separate beds than to blow the conversation they’d need to have. Conversation or confrontation. Disappointment ballooned inside him. He’d thought confrontation in his life was now limited to a grassy field.

From the time he’d showed up at training camp last July, he’d been fighting for a trophy, and since October, he’d been showing off his prowess to Ally. Showing off in all ways. Isn’t that what a man in love did? He’d worked hard, provided a home, tried to be a good daddy to an infant. He’d shared ideas and dreams for a wonderful future with Ally. As for lovemaking—well, they didn’t have a problem there. Most important, he’d tried to erase her first impression of him and show her that booze was unimportant.

All his efforts meant nothing if a few slugs of champagne could upend her as they had. It hadn’t been hard for him to put two and two together. He knew
Ally as well as he knew his playbook. But he couldn’t live his life wondering if she’d sack him, too, if she trusted him or not. If he were alone on the plane right now, he’d cry.

At Logan Airport, passengers in the terminal cheered the team. The
Globe
’s photographers were there, too. Dan offered his best smile, waved to the crowd and called out comments. Everyone was riding high on the win. He wished he could have enjoyed it more himself.

In the limo, he focused on Louis, giving the man a play-by-play of the game highlights, which distracted Dan from his personal homecoming. Regardless, it seemed like an eternity until he opened his own front door…and found no one home.

No Ally. No Michelle. Not what he’d expected.

He left his suitcase in the hall and walked toward the kitchen where a light burned. Maybe a note?

Not a note, but a set of keys. For a moment, his brain came to a screeching halt, his mind a blank. Then his thoughts flew faster than light. What was she thinking? Had she been so frightened that she’d moved out with the baby and run back to her apartment? Dammit! He hadn’t taken her for a coward.

He took the stairs three at a time while grabbing his cell and auto dialing her number. No ring. His mobile was dead. Damn, but it made sense because he hadn’t charged it in over a week. He opened her bedroom door, then her closet door, and sagged with relief. Her clothes were still there. Everything was the same. Including his imagination.

The doorbell chimed, and he lost no time running down the two flights. He pulled the door open so hard,
it almost slammed into his face. And there she was. Baby stroller and Michelle, too.

“What happened?” he asked, drawing them inside quickly.

“We went for a walk. I forgot my keys and my gloves. We were locked out. We walked and walked, you know I like to walk, and thank God I had plenty of baby blankets and the windscreen for the stroller, and your stupid cell phone wasn’t working. And my hands are freezing.”

“Let’s get you warmed up.” She was right. Her hands felt like ice and looked almost purple. He gently took them in his own and blew on them.

She burst into tears.

“A little frostbite, Ally. I know it hurts.”

“Who cares about that?” she said. “Danny, we can’t go on like this.”

“I know, and we won’t. But first things first.”

“Michelle! She’s too warm. We need to take off the blankets and snowsuit. I can’t do it. My stupid hands.” Her words ended in a wail of frustration.