Page 77 of Saving the Halfback

My parents were already sitting down at the table, talking about the farm events of the day. Ethan sat next to me, and Mom handed him a bowl of chili right away. He took it gently. I handed him a warm bread roll, then went about almost ignoring him. He didn’t like attention on him.

After a while of eating and listening to my parents talk, I could see him relax and finally start digging in. Ethan acted like he was starving. Once he started eating, it was as if he couldn’tslow down. Dad nonchalantly handed him another dinner roll while holding conversation, and Mom refilled his bowl before he could say anything. At one point, he cleared his throat and took a sip of water. I looked up at him, noticing his eyes glistening before he blinked them back to normal.

“Are you two ready for tomorrow?” Dad asked.

“Yes, sir,” Ethan responded.

“Bailey, I haven’t seen your letterman jacket yet. Did you guys get one for the season?”

I looked to Ethan, since I hadn’t heard anything about jackets. Ethan knew, though. “There have been cutbacks to the program, so no jackets this year.” Dad’s eyes twitched at this, and I could tell he was thinking it over.

“You’re on the football team with Bailey, I take it?” Mom smiled, noticing he was slowing down his eating. “You look like a football player.”

“Yes, I’m a lineman,” Ethan answered.

“Lineman, what’s that?” She looked to Dad for help.

“He blocks players from getting through to the ball,” Dad supplied.

Mom smiled. “So, you protect Bailey.”

It took everything in my power to not facepalm myself. I was sure my cheeks turned deep red, but hopefully, no one noticed. I cleared my throat. “So, Dad, you didn’t tell me, were you able to get the fields cleared before the rain? Winter wheat should be going in soon, right?” And just like that, everyone started talking about farming again.

After supper, it was my turn to clean up, but Mom shooed Ethan and me away. He tried to pick up the dishes, but Dad just took them from him. I didn’t miss his flinch when Dad first reached out to him, and I was sure Dad didn’t miss it either, because he moved slower around Ethan after that.

We went to the living room, and I turned on the TV, searching through the movies for something to watch, when Dad headed outside. “Where’s he going?” Ethan asked.

“More chores,” I said. “Probably checking on everything, in case it storms hard tonight.”

“There’s lots of chores around here,” he pointed out.

“It’s a full-time job for them…with overtime. Even with the hired hands, it’s still a lot of work. Wanna watch this?” I asked. It was some sort of zombie apocalypse movie.

“Sure.”

We watched the movie for a while until Dad came in. He had his cell phone to his ear and was arguing with someone. It was near ten when we turned in for the night. Not exactly a raging sleepover party, but Ethan looked as exhausted as I felt. And our first game was tomorrow.

I said goodnight and left my bedroom door open, just in case he needed anything.

I wokeup in the middle of the night, rolling over and seeing it was only two a.m. Outside, lightning lit up the sky, thunder following quickly behind. The storm was close. The sound of rain hitting the steel roof was almost deafening. I wondered how it hadn’t woken me earlier.

Getting up, I stretched before making my way to the bathroom. It was on my way back that I peeked in the open door of the guest room. It was too dark to see anything, but as the lightning flashed, I found Ethan sitting on the window seat, his head hanging, his shoulders shaking.

I should’ve minded my own business, but I couldn’t. I walked into the room, nervous and not exactly sure what to do or how to help. Reaching out, I touched his shoulder, waiting for a sign.Slowly, Ethan looked up at me. Tears streamed down his face, but he quickly wiped them away, clearing his throat.

“Don’t,” I found myself saying as I sat next to him. “You don’t have to stop. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Ethan was the one to move. He leaned into me, his large arms wrapping around my waist. I sat on the window seat, leaning back against the pillows and taking his large frame into my arms. He sat with his legs over the edge but laid the rest of his body between my legs, resting his head on my belly as he cried.

I held him tight with one arm across his back, wanting to hold him as tight as I could. As much as I wanted to break down that wall he had built, I didn’t want to see him hurting. Now I felt like I had to hold the wall together.

Running my fingers through his hair, I tried to assure him that I was there, that I was with him, that he wasn’t alone. The storm swallowed his cries, but I felt them. I felt them as he shook, as he held me to him. I felt them shoot straight to my heart.

I had gotten Ethan all wrong. His silence, his following me this evening like a shadow… He had been trying to hold himself together. After a while, he went quiet, his body stilled, then a few moments later, he was sitting up. He grabbed the edge of his shirt and wiped his face. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raspy and raw.

“Ethan, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He let out a low sound, turning in the seat to look outside. “I have so much to be sorry for.”

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