“Is CJ okay?”
“Yeah, just a cold, but he wants his momma. I’ll just come by your place when I’m done if that’s okay.”
“You staying with me?” I fly out in the morning to Ohio for an away game. I need her in my arms tonight. I feel like a caged animal after my conversation with Bridgett, and as bad as I hate to, I need to tell Emma. I don’t want to keep anything from her.
“Yeah. I’ll just have to stop by my place and get some clothes.”
“You don’t have what you need here?”
“Not for work.”
“Send me a message of what you need. I’ll stop by and get your key, and go pick it up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Em, it gets you in my arms that much faster. I’ll be by in about half an hour. Need anything? You got lunch?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks, babe.”
I smile at the endearment. She doesn’t use it often, but when she does, it makes my heart race.
“Love you,” I say, ending the call. It’s amazing how just hearing her voice and knowing that I’m on my way to see her can brighten the shittiest day.
* * *
I’m sitting on the couch waiting on Emma to get here. My house smells like the baked spaghetti that’s in the oven staying warm, and my mind is racing. The more I think about that little scene with Bridgett today, I get even more pissed off. Who does she think she is? Tell me who I can and can’t date. I abide by the terms of my contract. I’m a damn good football player. She doesn’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do in my personal life.
My phone rings and I see Case’s smiling mug on my screen. “Hey, man,” I answer.
“You want to grab a beer?”
“Nah, thanks though. Em should be getting here soon. She had to work late. They have a sick horse at the shelter.”
“Sucks. What’s up with you? Missing your girl?”
“Always, but that’s not what’s wrong.”
“Care to fill me in?”
I release everything about this morning on him, including my rant about how she has no right. By the time I’m finished, I’m breathing heavy, and my fists are clenched at my sides.
“Fuck her,” Case seethes. “She can’t do that. You need to go to Coach Neil and tell him what’s up. You don’t want this shit backfiring on you.”
“I know. I need to tell Emma too.”
“Fuck, maybe go straight to Stamper himself. Wait, maybe take Coach with you as back-up. I can’t believe her. That bitch is shady as fuck. You can see it in her eyes. Stamper seems like a solid dude. I haven’t spent much time with him, but they don’t seem anything alike.”
“I agree. I haven’t really thought much past telling Emma.”
“She’s going to freak on you, isn’t she? Try to push you away and shit to save your career. She’s that kind of woman, putting those she loves first.”
“You think she will?”
“Yes.” There is no hesitation in his answer.
“Fuck, now I really don’t want to tell her. I know she’ll be worried about my position, she’ll be angry for me, but I never once considered she would end this, end us over this.”
“She’s one of the good ones, Barker. Kind, selfless. I don’t really know her well, and I can see that in her. I’m not saying it would be forever, or even that she would be successful, but I know she would try.”
“Fuck me. I’m telling you right now, Case, if I lose Emma over this, fucking heads are going to roll.”
“Calm down, Incredible Hulk. Talk to Coach.” As he says it, I hear the front door open.
“Hey, Em just got home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Talk to Coach,” he says before hanging up.
“Hey, how’s Buckwheat?” I ask, meeting Emma in the hall. She looks exhausted. Taking her hand, I lead her into the dining room and pull out a chair for her.
“He has equine protozoal myeloencephalitis.”
“Dumb that down for me, freckles.” She laughs, which is what I was hoping for.
“It’s also called opossums disease. It’s where horses come in contact with opossum feces and it affects their neurological system.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is. If caught early enough most horses recover, or so the vet tells us. However, Buckwheat is old. He’s twenty, so that will play a factor in it as well.”
“When will you know if he’s out of the woods?”
She sighs heavily. “Hopefully, we will see an improvement in the morning. The vet is coming back out for another injection.”
“Anything I can do?”
“No, but I appreciate your willingness to help. What smells so good?”
“I made baked spaghetti.”
“I’m starving.”
“Perfect. You sit tight and I’ll make you a plate.”
“I can do it,” she says as her phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket. “It’s Aubrey.”
“Take it. I’ll be right back.” I kiss the corner of her mouth and make my way to the kitchen to grab us both a plate. After setting a plate for her and one for me on the table, I head back to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water for me and pour Emma a glass of her favorite wine. When I make it back to the dining room, she’s still on the phone, but she’s eating her spaghetti. She mouths “Thank you” when I set her wine in front of her.
“Yeah, the vet said it’s a fifty-fifty chance of recovery at this point. We caught it soon, which is good. It’s just a wait and see kind of thing,” she explains to Aubrey. “Oh, and before I forget, he wanted me to tell you he’d be back next week for the other animals' checkups and that if you want to bring Pixy, plan on Thursday.”
I still can’t believe that Aubrey
