Page 55 of Quarterback Sneak

Left.

Outrage dogging her heels and she stomped through the crowd before pushing open the outer door. Narrowing her eyes against the sting of the wind, she made out Sam’s distinctive figure standing under the eave, the wind whipping at his shirt, molding it to his chest. Staring at his stoic profile, she wanted to yell at him but chose to stomp past him instead. The sooner she made it to the van, the better.

He turned his head when she passed and gripped her arm. She jerked her elbow away but a gust of air hit her full frontal, slamming her into Sam’s larger frame. While she was glad for his support, she couldn’t rely on it, or him anymore.

“Let’s get out of this wind.” He linked his arm through hers as they fought the elements. Her humiliation only grew as they struggled to reach the closest door to the sidewalk. Sam wrenched the passenger side door open and half shoved her into the van. The inside of the van was eerily quiet compared to the hell they’d just endured, and cold, as cold as her heart at that moment.

Scrambling to the driver side, she pulled her dress over her knees and put the key in the engine.

Sam climbed in and the door slammed behind him, an eerie whistle emitted from somewhere in the back of the vehicle.

“Shit, what a horrible night to be out. It’s been years since I’ve seen this bad of a wind storm.”

“Yes, what a horrible night.” And he had no clue, not yet. Put out one fire at a time. Forcing herself to remain calm, she texted Beth. “Did Beth tell you where she was heading? They’re both drunk and now they are driving in this weather.”

Her phone buzzed. She read the text before she dropped the phone into her purse and snapped, “Damn you, Beth.”

“Well, where is she?” Sam asked, buckling up his seat belt.

“They’re at another bar at Pioneer Square. She wants us to come. As if.” Ivy started the van and pulled out into the road. She wasn’t in the mood for the bar scene, especially now. The wind buffered the van, nearly wrenching the steering wheel from her fingers. She gripped the plastic tighter, needing to talk to Sam but with the craziness of the weather, it wasn’t the time or the place.

But boy did she have a lot to say.

“After you went to the bathroom, Beth caught him kissing the bartender, at least that’s what your cook said. Does she always leave her friends and not tell anyone?” he asked, his question held a note of impatience.

Anger seethed a darkened path into her gut and she kept a death grip on the steering wheel as she turned onto the bridge to West Seattle. “Even after she catches him cheating, Aaron leads and she follows like a little puppy. I find it difficult to fathom why somebody so intelligent can be so stupid.” Myself included.

The gusts intensified the closer they came to the Sound. She was glad the bad weather allowed her to keep quiet. Everything was unraveling and she needed time and space to regroup.

Sam directed her to turn onto a long driveway where a huge, iron gate blocked the entry into the estate. “I’ll open it.” He retrieved his phone and searched out the app.

Ivy rolled the van to a stop and her jaw tightened to a painful level. Next to the driveway, a Realtor sign marred the lawn. Across the blue and gold For Sale sign a small white piece of paper was tucked into a clear plastic envelope that was titled Foreclosure Sale.

. “Your house is being foreclosed on? Were you aware of this?” The sign was like a slap in the face and she tapped her thumb hard against the steering wheel. Enough. She’d had enough with his secrets.

“Yes. Craddock stopped paying the mortgage a long time ago. Luckily, it wasn’t part of the government seizure and the bank was able to resell it. I can’t say I’m sorry to see it go. I never liked it much. It’s not really me but it’s mine until Monday,” he said, staring out the window, his head turned away from her.

Another evasive tactic, one she’d come to expect from him.

“Howler had food sent over and I figured we could hit the pool after we eat,” he said, ignorant to her upset.

Her stomach in a knot, food was the last thing she wanted. Of course he’d kept this from her, despite her asking him countless times in countless different ways, he’d kept this from her. The gate opened and Ivy stomped on the accelerator, not daring to speak least she start yelling like a crazy woman. She wanted to hit something but it wasn’t the pool.

The circular drive way was large with a covered carport that protected the front door from the elements. Ivy slammed on the brakes before the two-story craftsman house, cut the engine and unbuckled her seat belt. She needed some resolution and tonight she’d get what she wanted or else.

Or else what? Break up with him? She hoped it wouldn’t go that far.

Ivy balked at the notion and resistance rose like bile in her throat. Yet she’d reached the breaking point. The situation with Beth reminded her how much she disliked games and football wasn’t the only game Sam insisted on playing. But she owed it to him and to herself to try to make this relationship work.

The wind hadn’t let up but the shelter provided some protection. Sam climbed down from the van and retrieved the cane resting on the floor while she exited from her side.

Hair whipping around her face, she held it back while Sam opened the door. She had no idea how she was going to handle the upcoming confrontation, but she knew she had to do something. Her future depended on it.

“After you,” he said, stepping aside while she entered. “Let’s head into the kitchen. It’s straight ahead.”

She craned her neck as she took in the grandiose foyer, mind spinning from everything she’d discovered about him thus far. Heels clicking on the sea of dark hardwood floors, she peered into the sterile and cold rooms that branched out from the hallway, her. Every room that they passed was empty and completely uninviting. “You lived here without furniture?”

“No, it was leased. Luckily I own my own bed and T.V.” Sam led the way to an open concept living room and kitchen, each thump of his cane echoed inside the cavernous space. One lone antique rocker sat forlornly at the kitchen island. “And this rocking chair. I guess there’s no use for furniture when I don’t have a place to keep it.”

---