Page 100 of Roughing the Player
Chapter 27
Brock
“WHAT FLIGHT IS YOUR MOM ON?”I ask Kaylee. Again. She’d mentioned it a time or two, but I’d been so preoccupied with my thoughts on the drive to the airport I’d missed what she said.
She gazes at me like I’ve suddenly become the prize idiot at the county fair. “United 1510.”
Inside the terminal, I scan the arrival board. “We better hustle. Looks like the plane’s pulling up to the gate.”
Charleston International Airport is nowhere as huge as O’Hare, so it takes us no time to get to Concourse A. Unable to proceed beyond security, we stand outside the restricted area waiting for her. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. She’s not coming to reunite or patch things up. She’s only here to fetch Kaylee and take her back with her. Still, I can’t help but be happy. I haven’t seen her for three long months and that has seemed like an eternity. Fifteen minutes later, I spot her heading our way.
“There she is!” Kaylee points out.
“I see her,” I whisper, as my heart skips a beat.
Kaylee barely waits for Ellie to clear the concourse before she runs up to her. “Mom.”
“Sweetheart.” For a few seconds they hug and kiss. It’s been only a week, but to them apparently, it’s been forever. When they turn towards me, they both have tears in their eyes. But then, so do I. Nothing more beautiful than the sight of Ellie and our daughter smiling. They wear happiness well.
I walk up to the love of my life, drop a kiss on her lips. The sweet taste of her mouth is not nearly enough, but I can’t very well do much more. Not when we’re out in public.
After the all-too-brief greeting, she steps back. “Brock.”
It’s my first chance to get a good look at her. She’s gained a few pounds, and they look great on her.
“I got these for you.” I hand her the bouquet I’d been holding behind my back, the one I spent half an hour picking out. After going back and forth between roses and a mixed bouquet, I’d gone for the classic choice figuring you can’t go wrong with that. “How was your flight?”
“Uneventful,” she clips out.
Okayyy. Not terribly friendly, but not unfriendly either. “Did you check any bags?”
“No. Brought only the overnight.” She points to the suitcase by her side.
I’m reaching for it, when something clicks close to us. I’ve heard that sound enough times to know what it means. Somebody’s taking our picture.
Looking around for the culprit, I spot him not too far from us. Can’t miss him, busy as he is snapping away.
When he realizes he has my attention, he flashes a press card. “Rod Howard.The Charleston Times.” I’ve met the Times’ sports reporter. This guy is not him. He’s probably some flunkie charged with taking a few pictures and asking some questions. But how the hell did he know I’d be here to meet Ellie?
I straighten up. Between my bulk and my height, I tower over him. Much as I want to pummel this slime for intruding into our privacy, I can’t make a scene. “Okay.”
“Can I take a picture of the happy family? Ask a couple of questions?”
Before I can say ‘Hell, no’, Kaylee jumps in with “Sure thing.” She scoots up to her mother. Hugging Kaylee to her, Ellie pins on a smile. The fake kind. I throw my arm around both and force out a grin. There, a picture-perfect happy family.
“Great.” Rod Johnson clicks away. Done with the camera, he points a recorder at Ellie, “So, Mrs. Parker, are you visiting or coming down for good?”
“Errr,” Ellie says. Can’t help her. I don’t have an answer for that either.
But Kaylee does. “She’s here for the weekend.”
“Only the weekend?” Rod Howard asks.
Okay. That’s enough. This turd’s not from the sports desk. He’s probably part of their ‘style’ section. The one that takes pleasure in printing dirt. I’ll be damned if we get dragged through the mud. But I can’t fly off the handle, not with the growing crowd around us. As politely as I can, I say, “Mr. Howard. My wife just arrived. She hasn’t had a chance to catch her breath. If there’s anything else you’d like to know, please contact the Wolves’ PR office. They’ll arrange for me to have a sit-down with you.” Not that he’ll have a chance in hell of getting that interview. I’ll make damn sure of that.
I grab Ellie’s hand and head toward the exit, dragging her overnight along. I don’t say a word until we’re inside the SUV. But then I explode. “What the hell was that all about? How did he know we’d be at the airport?”
From the back seat, Kaylee pipes up, “Imayhave calledThe Charleston Times.”
