Page 10 of The Baxters
“Eighteen, nineteen.” Stan sounded happier. “That’s the way, Taylor. There you go.”
But Ryan could barely hear the guy. He was back on Soldier Field, two years ago, playing football like he was born to do it. Right there, carrying the ball in what would be his last minutes of owning the game.
Even then Kari had filled his mind.
Always Kari. Only Kari.
Ryan was on the field again. Running like the wind, carrying the ball toward the end zone when—
“Taylor? You with me?” Stan sounded frustrated.
“Yeah.” Ryan stood. “Sorry.” His knees felt weak and he needed water. “I’ll be back.”
“Five more minutes,” Stan called after him. “You can do this.”
Ryan grabbed a water bottle from the fridge in the next room and hesitated. The hit had been the single worst physical pain of his life. He closed his eyes and he could feel it again. The sickening smack of his helmet crashing into that of Russell Jones.
And then the searing heat, like someone had pressed a blowtorch to his neck. The explosion of hurt… Ryan took a swig of his water. It was a pain no words could define. Even now. And there he was on the ground, his face in the grass. He tried but he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t draw a single breath. And that’s when it occurred to him.
He was going to die. Right there in the middle of Soldier Field, and he would never see Kari Baxter again. Reporters and coaches had asked him since then what it was like, what he was thinking when he was laying there frozen on the field that day.
Surely his mind was ablaze with thoughts of football. That’s what they all figured. After all, he had spent his whole life getting to this moment. Summers of Pop Warner and four autumns of high school games, then working to be the best in the NCAA. All so he could dominate in the NFL. The best the game had ever seen.
Ryan finished his water and headed back to Stan. They were all wrong. As the paramedics strapped him to a backboard and hurried him to an ambulance, he wasn’t thinking about football at all.
He was thinking about Kari Baxter.
And late that night, when his mother came in his room and told Ryan that Kari had come, that she and her father were in the waiting room, Ryan didn’t have to ask how his surgery had gone. It didn’t matter.
He was going to be okay, because Kari was here. She had come for him.
Ryan dropped to the floor and resumed his push-ups.
“Find your position.” Stan pointed to the floor. “You’re slowing down. Twenty-two more, come on.”
“Got it.” Ryan began rattling them off. His form was better than perfect this time. Anger always did that to him. He clenched his jaw. Because when he woke up the next morning after the team’s female trainer had been in to see him, his mother told him the news that still didn’t make sense. Kari was gone. She and her father had left without saying a word.
Without an explanation.
Every day since then Ryan had waited for Kari to tell him what had happened, why she had turned her back at his lowest moment. But every chance she had, Kari avoided him. Didn’t answer his calls or respond to his letters.
“Forty-nine, fifty!” Stan clapped a few times. “One of your best, Taylor. You must’ve really needed that water.”
No,he wanted to say.I really need Kari Baxter.
Which was why he couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her this morning. Even though the idea was crazy. He knew what would happen if he went to her house today. Kari wouldn’t talk to him or give him her reasons or even the time of day. Ryan was never going to get the girl of his dreams.
He stood and stretched. Yes, he could walk. Thanks to God and the efforts of surgeons and therapists like Stan, Ryan Taylor was almost good as new. His body was healed.
But without Kari, his life was broken, and Ryan had no idea how to fix that.
“You sure you’re okay?” Stan tossed him a towel. “You’re a million miles away.”
“Not quite a million.” Ryan smiled.Just a few hundred steps, actually.But again he kept the truth to himself.
After a bit of small talk, Stan left, and when Ryan finished his shower he did something he hadn’t done in years. He grabbed his senior yearbook from his bedroom shelf and took it to the oversize chair. “Where did things go wrong, Kari girl?” Ryan muttered the words to himself.
His mom was going to the wedding later today. Over the years she had told Ryan a number of times what he should do. “Go see her, Son. Talk to her. It’s not too late.”
