Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Home Stretch

“Juliette, are you sure you know how to drive a stick shift? Please be careful.” Evan is worried about letting me drive his car.

“Evan, if you don’t trust me, you should have let Adam drive us home.” I know very well how to drive a stick shift. We spent many weekends driving up and down mountains all across Colorado. “How about you just relax and let me do this.”

As we drive home, Evan calls his mother to let her know we’re on our way. She warns him that there are reporters camped out in front of the house waiting for our return. Great.

When I get closer to the house, I can see them. Their huge vans are lining the street. It’s dusk now, and I can see the crews setting up their lights to get the “perfect shot”. I’m relieved to see that there’s nothing blocking our entrance, and I’m able to pull into Evan’s driveway and right up to the front of the house.

Evan insists on me waiting for him to open my door as we normally would. It’s a little awkward for him to open his own door using his left hand, but once he’s out, he gracefully strides over to my door, opens it, and gives me his good hand to help me step out of the car.

He closes the car door, then turns and waves to the reporters. Their flashes go wild! He takes my hand and leads me into our home, where his family is waiting for his return.

The moment I walk into the house, I can smell his mother’s homemade chicken noodle soup simmering on the stove. My mouth is watering. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

Callie heads straight to her little brother and holds her arms out for a hug. Evan’s arm is in a sling and his hand is in a splint, but he manages to move his injured arm out of the way so he can bring her in for a heart-felt embrace. “Welcome home, Evan. Are you hungry? Mom made soup.”

“Starving. Thanks, Mom.” Evan gives his mother an affectionate hug, too. “Smells great, as usual.”

Evan’s dad and brother-in-law welcome him home with typical male slaps on the back and shoulders. I watch and admire the close relationship he has with his family. It’s such a joy to watch them fuss and hover over him, and he doesn’t seem to mind in the least. It makes me so happy to see him relax and laugh with his family. He catches me watching him and gives me a beguiling grin that spreads across his entire face. I lean back on the counter and allow the joy to spread through me.

Callie and I stand at the stove together, dishing out bowls of soup. I take advantage of the moment away from Evan, and whisper to her, “Did you get it?”

She quietly replies, “I did. It’s on the deck. Wait until we leave, then take him outside. We’ll all go right after we’re done eating.”

“Thank you so much, Callie. Evan’s done so many sweet things for me, I thought it was time I returned the favor.”

Evan’s mom walks over to grab the grilled cheese sandwiches that are warming in the oven. “Juliette, there should be enough soup left over to keep you two well fed for the next few days. Your refrigerator is well stocked and there are a few other homemade meals in the freezer. Callie and I have been cooking all day.”

I give them both a hug and thank them for everything.

Callie offers, “Please call if there’s anything you two need. I think it’s going to be difficult for either of you to slip out of the house for a while.” I suspect she’s right.

Jill makes a phenomenal chicken soup. She promises to send me her recipe. The women begin cleaning up from dinner while Evan pours the men a nightcap. It’s getting late and after a shared meal and drink, we all say our good nights. Evan walks everyone to their cars so they can begin their long drive home.

I slip away and sneak out onto the deck to check on my surprise, and I’m pleased with Callie’s acquisition. She was able to find exactly what I was hoping for.

When we first started dating, Evan and I would send each other playful texts. I used to look forward to receiving a message from him that ended with a wink and a smile. I take out my phone, and send him a text.

Jette: Hey bossy man, come find me. XO

Evan: Is that u running grl?

Jette: Yup. Waiting under the stars 4U.

Evan: On my way ;)

Evan comes striding onto the deck as I lean on the railing, staring at the waves breaking on the shore. He comes up behind me, brushes my hair to the side, and trails kisses from my ear down my neck.

“Hello, running girl. I’ve missed you,” he breathes in my ear.

“Back at you, bossy man.” I turn to face him. He tilts my head back and salaciously kisses me as if we haven’t seen each other in years. I am caught in his spell, and I momentarily forget that I called him here for a different purpose. But when he nibbles on my lip and our tongues play and tease, I lose all train of thought.

I pull away just enough to speak, “I have something for you, Evan.”

He rubs up against me, “I have something for you, too, Juliette.”

“Baby, please. I’m trying to be serious. Look to your left.” Evan turns and he finally notices my gift to him.

“Juliette, I don’t understand. You’re giving me a tree?”

“I thought about giving you flowers like you’ve done for me so many times, but it just didn’t feel right. So I called Callie and she helped me select something that will last much longer than cut flowers. See, this isn’t just any tree, it’s a pear tree.”

“Oh, a pear tree, huh? Can I ask why you chose this particular tree?” Evan asks.

“The first reason is obvious. It originally occurred to me to give you a pear tree because it reminded me of the bond we share as a pair of people forever united and in love.”

He kisses me, “Well, you’re right about that.”

“Wait, there are other reasons why. The more I learned about the pear tree, the more certain I was that I wanted you to have one. In certain parts of Asia, the pear tree symbolizes comfort and health and I want you to have both those things.”

“Sweetheart, I want those things for you, too.” He looks deep into my eyes as I speak, toying playfully with my hair. Does he know what it does to me when he looks at me like that?

“In dreams, pears are an erotic symbol of the sweetness of earthly pleasures and a desire to unite. I very much like the sound of that one.”

“No arguments here, baby.”

“But mostly, pear trees live long lives if they are taken proper care of. If we plant it together, here at our home, it will provide us with a long and happy life together. Our happy ending.” I look up at Evan, waiting breathlessly for his reaction.

“Juliette, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

It’s been over twenty-four hours since my last shower, and I have no intention of slipping into our new bed until I’m clean. I take a quick shower, and then help Evan take one, too. It’s nearly midnight when we finally climb into our new bed. “What do you think you’re doing?” Evan scolds me.

“What did I do?” Evan is lying in bed beside me on his side, propping his head up with his good arm, regarding me with disapproval.

“You honestly don’t know?” he responds. His eyes leave mine and travel down my body, resting on the t-shirt that I tossed on after my shower, while shaking his head.

“Oh,” I get it. I slip off the shirt so we can snuggle skin against skin. Evan rolls onto his back and stretches his arm out for me. I nuzzle up into his warm embrace, nibble on his ear, and curl up one leg over his. The scent of his clean masculine skin is heaven. I am home.

With his good hand, he playfully twists his fingers in my hair, tugging lightly. I close my eyes, enjoying the way my body responds to his touch. I run my finger across his strong jaw, sweeping across his hungry lips, and gently touching his cheeks as my fingers find his still damp and messy mop of hair.

We just lie in bed for the longest time without saying a word, just holding, touching, and caressing. Eventually, we fall asleep, our arms and legs entwined in a tangled web.

The week goes by quietly. After only a day or two, the press leaves us alone, allowing us to go about our daily lives. We now start each day with a beach run with Maddy and end each day curled up in bed together. Today is Friday and we have an appointment later to get Evan’s stitches out. He’s been very diligent about following doctor’s orders by doing plenty of cardio, but no weight lifting.

We haven’t seen much of our friends lately. While I miss them terribly, it’s nice to have Evan all to myself. Without all the distractions of work, we begin to carve out a life together.

Evan and I have never spent large amounts of time together. While I am normally at work, I never really knew what he did with his time. Now that I am no longer working, I get a glimpse into what life as an NFL quarterback is like during off-season. Evan spends several hours a day with his nose buried in his playbook. I love to watch him as he sits in the living room, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table, chewing on a pen cap, while listening to some classic rock. Today is an AC/DC day for Evan, and the Back in Black album is rocking the entire house.

From time to time, Evan will take his playbook and slip into his office. He has conference calls to make and e-mails to return. When he is in work mode, he is singularly focused. With the dedication and diligence I’ve witnessed, it’s no wonder he’s achieved such high levels of professional success.

I spend most of my days baking and experimenting with recipes in Evan’s big and beautifully appointed kitchen. Earlier in the week, Evan insisted I make a list of all the baking supplies I needed, and then he took me on a shopping trip to two of my favorite stores, Sur La Table and Williams Sonoma.

I have a few things on my list of recipes I want to master. Top of my list is finding perfect formulas for some gluten-free desserts. More and more people are adopting a gluten-free diet and there aren’t a lot of tasty dessert options readily available. Also on my list is to perfect the ideal Crème Brulee recipe.

But today, there’s no time for baking. Evan and I have to be in Manhattan by noon. He’s seeing a specialist at New York-Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia and Cornell. Because he hasn’t gotten clearance to drive yet, I get to drive the Porsche again. He’s not a very good passenger, and I bite my tongue more than once as I try my best to ignore the helpful reminders to speed up, slow down, and change lanes.

We arrive in the Upper East Side with time to spare. It’s a good thing, too, because finding our way through this monolithic labyrinth of unfamiliar buildings and corridors takes us additional time we didn’t plan for.

We spend nearly an hour in the office with Dr. Geiselman. He is an older man with a white ring of hair and dark rimmed glasses. He has a kind face and exudes confidence. After reviewing all of Evan’s medical charts we had sent over, he examines Evan’s incision, removes the sutures, and does some routine flexibility, strength, and sensitivity testing. He asks Evan a wide variety of questions, and some of his answers surprise me. I listen intently and discover that Evan cannot always decipher hot from cold, has been experiencing numbness in his fingers, and has been dropping a lot of things. Since he hasn’t been complaining about pain, I assumed all was well.

Dr. Geiselman tries to assure Evan that these symptoms are not unusual, but it means that recovery might take longer than originally anticipated. Evan asks him to be more specific.

“Well, a conservative estimate would have you driving in six weeks, lifting weights in about eight weeks, and resuming sporting activities in ten weeks,” Dr. Geiselman explains.

“I have a few three-day mini camps starting on May 20th. Will I be cleared to practice at all with the team?”

“Well, that’s about five weeks from now, so that puts you at about six weeks post-op. You can drive yourself there, but I really don’t want you using your hand. If you push it too quickly, you take the chance of causing the tendons to split. That would mean another surgery and additional rehab time. It’s best to be cautious and not take any unnecessary risks.”

“How about just running some drills with the team?”

“Tell you what, get your physical therapists on board and do exactly what they tell you to do. If you are very vigilant, you may be able to do some drills. Come see me in two weeks, and let’s reassess your progress then.” He gives Evan a set of Chinese stress balls and a referral to begin physical therapy immediately.

Evan tries to put on a brave face, but I can see the apprehension in his eyes. His entire life depends upon him being able to throw and catch a football. Dropping things does not bode in the NFL. But if I know anything about Evan at all, I know he will pour himself one hundred percent into his recovery and physical therapy. If anyone can overcome an obstacle, Evan can and will.

When we’re nearly home, Evan asks me to drop him off at Adam’s house. He says there are a few work-related matters he needs to deal with, and I’m sure updating Adam on the details of today’s visit is chief among them. He promises to be home by seven for dinner.

I go home to our big empty beach house and it feels strange to be alone here. Without Evan to keep me company, I feel oddly lonesome. Auggie and Brandon are in Baltimore and Emmy and Derek haven’t called in days. I can’t blame them. Surely, they have been spending their time trying to find new jobs. They both have rent to pay and bills that are due soon, and without an income, they won’t be able to survive. I still feel pangs of guilt when I think about their situation. I know they don’t blame Evan or me for their current joblessness, but it doesn’t make me feel any less remorse.

Tomorrow is our house warming party. All our friends and family will be here to celebrate our new living arrangements. Well, not all our friends, only those that live in New Jersey. I wish Reese and Sara could be here, too. Perhaps someday soon.

Evan comes home exactly on time in high spirits. He’s got a bottle of Malbec and a box of dark chocolates with sea salt from Van Holten’s Chocolates. We eat dinner outside on the deck under the stars. Slowly, darkness creeps up on us, casting a romantic moonlit glow across the deck.

We sit beneath the stars while the waves are gently rolling onto the shore, talking about our future. “Juliette, did you know that most NFL players have second careers after football?”

“Well, I never really thought about it, but yeah. I imagine that a lot of players retire fairly young with lots of good years ahead of them. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been thinking about finding something I can fall back on some day. I’d like to start thinking about my future. About our future.” Under the table, Evan rubs his bare foot up and down my calf.

“Baby, you can do anything you want. The sky is the limit. I’ll be there to support you no matter what you choose.”

Evan is in a playful mood, flirting and teasing with me whenever he has the chance. “Even if I decide I want to become a pizza delivery man?” He passes me a piece of chocolate and sweeps his thumb gently across my hand.

“Even then,” I tell him. I get up to refill my glass of wine, and Evan impishly grabs my ass. I wonder if we will still feel this way after another month or even a year. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I’m toying with a few ideas, actually. Callie owns her own flower shop. I think I’d like to be a business owner, too.”

I can’t imagine Evan doing anything other than professional sports. “I could easily see you owning a gym or a sporting goods store. Is that what you’re thinking?”

“I’m not sure, maybe. You know, we do spend a lot of money at the Green Planet Coffee Company. Maybe I’ll buy my own coffee shop and then we’ll never have to buy a cup of coffee again.”

“True. But there’s no rush, baby. You’ve got a long career ahead of you. I’m going to take very good care of you and make certain you follow all the doctor’s orders.”

“I’ve always wanted my own private nurse. Does that include nightly sponge baths, too?” He smiles at me and it’s mesmerizing.

His t-shirt stretches tightly across his muscular arms as he leans back, weaving his fingers together behind his head. When he bites his lip and puffs out his chest, taking in a deep cleansing breath, I know he’s watching and waiting for my reaction.

Unable and unwilling to hold back any longer, I eagerly climb onto Evan’s lap. I cup his nape while doing one of my favorite things in the world, running my fingers through his thick, silky hair. I whisper in his ear, “Let’s go to bed. Doctor’s orders.”

Evan moans lightly, pulling me closer, and replies, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 845