 
### Heaven Lies East of the Mississippi

### By Anna Scott Graham

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Anna Scott Graham

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. It is the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this novel, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can discover other works by this author. Thanks for your support.

This is a work of fiction. Names and characters, incidents and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

For my husband and those who have offered their love and support over the last several years, both in the writing and the living.

### Chapter 1

Steel beams and concrete were the bones and blood of the stadium, but as Kendall Schultz stood on the velvet green pitch, a heart pounded under his feet. The beat rose to his ankles, up to his knees, hips, and onward. But he grimaced as that rumbling reached his chest, a fading, shallow pulse in response.

It shouldn't be this way, he considered, staring at thousands of cheering fans. I should feel something beyond what this place stirs. He looked toward where Natalie and his parents sat, although he couldn't make out his girlfriend and family amid a clamoring sea of FC San Diego supporters, or FCSD as everyone in San Diego who adored soccer called the team, his team. For eight years this had been Kendall's team, but why wasn't he as excited and nervous as at last year's final?

He glanced down the line; Wilson Givens wore a broad, infectious smile. Trevor Harner gently scuffed his left shoe along the grass. Casey Alspach was shaking his shoulders as if trying to remove his head from the rest of his body. His blonde hair flew as though connected to the screams coming from all sides. Casey was always this jumpy until they stepped on the field to play. Then every tendon went slack, Casey the most relaxed man on the squad. Kendall flashed him a smile, then stared at the ground, wishing for that sort of energy.

I should feel something, Kendall stewed inwardly, but nothing's burning, nothing that means this is anything other than a day job. That's wrong, that's impossible, that's....

The whistle blew and Kendall looked up, then glanced at Casey; he stood perfectly straight. Wilson and Trevor were the same, as was the entire team. It lasted for seconds, during which Kendall inhaled, then exhaled, trying to conjure the magic that had dwelled within him for the last conscious twenty-five years of his life. He had been playing with a soccer ball since he was two. But from the age of five it was locked in his memories, kicking that sphere on his parents' front lawn. His mother said it was on Christmas morning, but Kendall wasn't aware of the date; it could have been his birthday, or Groundhog Day for that matter. It was a moment of clarity, never forgotten. Now at thirty years old, another title just ninety-plus minutes away, all that passion and awareness felt as uncertain as when it began. Had it been on Christmas? Maybe Easter, maybe his birthday. Photographs couldn't pinpoint a season; Kendall was born and raised in San Diego, had played nearly all of his career here. Other than two years with Real Madrid, he had only lived in Southern California, where seasons were as illusory as what he felt. Maybe this was practice for a World Cup or an Olympics. Perhaps this was off-season training. Or was this Spain, when he had been just starting out, but still far above his American peers. Maybe this was high school or middle school or the first few years he ran around a large emerald expanse, learning to forget about his arms, to concentrate on his legs and feet. All that mattered were his lower limbs.

He was never this unfocused, and that drove him even further to search for something as solid as what this place was made from, once eyes left the field. Where spectators sat or stood, where concessions were sold, where offices hummed with all that occurred behind the scenes; Kendall focused on those tangible aspects of the game. It's a game, he reminded himself, as his teammates huddled. He joined them as if by an involuntary force; all the actions were rote, what the hell? I need to focus, I need to....

"Everything all right Schultz?"

Kendall nodded to Coach Schlatter. "Yeah. Let's play."

Herman Schlatter nodded in his curt German manner. "Uh-huh." Then he said something to Wilson and Trevor. Kendall stared at his coach as though Herm was speaking in his native tongue. The cadence was clipped, like all the German Kendall had heard when playing in Europe. Spanish was more fluid, how Casey now looked. An occasional twitch lingered, but as Herm Schlatter gave his last pep talk, Casey grew still.

Kendall inhaled again, waiting for the adrenaline to kick in, waiting for something to wrench him into reality, to where they were, seconds away from the start of the final game of the season. He had felt disconnected all through the playoffs, each game exacerbating his lack of focus. He had never felt so detached from this sport, his teammates, his coach. He hadn't said anything about it, not even to Natalie. But she knew, and from Herm Schlatter's glare, so did he.

Now, I need to be on now. Kendall cleared his throat as Schlatter stepped his way. "Schultz?"

Kendall smiled. His was the only Germanic surname, and Schlatter's accent always accentuated it. "No worries," Kendall said. He glanced around; I need to feel it now, I have never not felt it, the ambience and drive, that spark, the thrill. The bliss is missing, shit!

Schlatter said nothing, his thin gray hair and glasses showing his age. Otherwise his face was unlined, even after years of coaching how many teams, some great like this one, some abysmal. How many times has he stood in this position, Kendall mused, heading for the field. He was a forward, had played this position almost all of his life. His first year at Real Madrid, he was an attacking midfielder, often on the right, sometimes the left. He was moved to forward during his second season in Spain, which had angered some of his teammates, due to his nationality and youth. But he had proved his worth, and longing for home, returned to America, to California. He signed with FC San Diego, lived twenty minutes from where he grew up in La Jolla. He spoke fluent Spanish, could make out just enough French, German, Dutch, Italian, and Portuguese to ask for the bathroom or order a beer. If he stepped onto any foreign soil, he was revered for his skills. If he stepped outside FCSD's stadium, he was often anonymous.

If he didn't pull it together in the next several seconds.... Kendall glanced at Casey, then to Wilson and Trevor. All were in the zone, where Kendall usually resided. He stared at the opposition, D.C. United, representing the nation's capital. Faces were familiar; it was a small sporting community, even if it gathered players from around the world. Maybe half of D.C.'s team was comprised of foreigners, about the same with San Diego's squad. But that was the case in Europe too, lineups a mix from all over the globe. All over the planet, except in Kendall's home nation, football was king. Football was played with a round ball for two forty-five-minute periods, give a few minutes for stoppage time. It didn't require pads or helmets, hands were verboten except to return the ball into play. It required immense skill with one's feet, great stamina in a player's legs, and the entirety of one's heart. At that moment, Kendall possessed the maximum level for all but his chest muscle. It seemed several beats behind.

He pounded the middle of his upper torso, then smiled. Then he waited. Start damnit, start! As play commenced, he sighed, running with the rest. Yet Kendall's heart hadn't responded to the whistle.

It hadn't answered him by half-time, and even twenty minutes into the second play period, he was still on auto-pilot, for which he was thankful, but not enthused. Only when Casey passed him the ball in the sixty-ninth minute did Kendall's heart finally wake up. He shot the ball away from the goalie, cleanly into the back of the net. A thunderous roar swelled all around him, hollering teammates raising the din. A scoreless tie had been broken as well as a brick knocked from the wall around Kendall's chest.

For the rest of the game he was a semblance of himself, but it was only noted by Herm Schlatter, who eyed his forward with a suspicious gaze. At the end of regulation time, the score remained 1-0, and as extra minutes ticked down, Kendall wiped sweaty brown hair from his face, staring at snippets of the crowd and his teammates, wishing to see Natalie. He needed someone who would understand, and who wouldn't be pissed at him. Coach Schlatter couldn't wait to rip into his star forward, even if Kendall had scored the winning and only goal.

The stadium erupted in raucous bliss, which crept up the backs of Kendall's aching calves, sneaking into his weary quad muscles, easing along his buttocks into his lower back, then crawling so slowly along his spine. It never knocked on his rib cage, but edged forward, into his brain; another title for FCSD, another accolade for perhaps the finest male soccer player the United States of America had ever produced. Kendall didn't tear off his shirt, but acknowledged the achievement by slapping backs, giving hugs, but not blinking away any tears. Others did; Casey Alspach wept freely, but perhaps that was also for other issues. Throughout the season Casey and his wife had tried to get pregnant. Maybe now, with the title in hand, Casey could complete other desires.

Thirty-one-year-old Wilson wanted to go home to Alabama for Christmas. Trevor hailed from Georgia, and also couldn't wait to flee California. Like Kendall, Casey was a native of the Golden State, but he spent the off season in the Central Valley on a sprawling ranch north of Bakersfield. Kendall considered how in just a matter of days, this tight-knit group would disperse for all corners, not just of this country, but to Central and South America, Europe and Asia too. The upcoming Christmas holiday, still a few weeks away, had been on hearts and minds when the end of the season was broached. On the second of December, a title had been clinched. Within days, real-life beckoned.

But first microphones and questions were thrust into players' faces. Kendall smiled as if he was twenty-three, twenty-six, twenty-nine even. This time last year he'd been ecstatic when FC San Diego had beaten the Houston Dynamos; was this second straight title as sweet as last year's?

"Oh man, yeah, I mean...." Kendall's post-game responses were perfect, from his electric American smile, his gushing yet grateful tone as he gazed between the interviewer, the stands, and the ground. Looking at his feet, Kendall had found, humbled him, as if giving thanks to the pitch upon where the victory had sprung. He was a star, had scored the only goal, but from that earth had he been given a purpose, and eventually into that earth he would return. Then he thanked his coach, his teammates, and the fans. San Diego fans were the greatest in the world.

That was a bald-faced lie, but at that moment few would call him on it. San Diego soccer fans might be the best on the West Coast, maybe within the US. Real soccer, or football, fans resided anywhere else on the planet. He wouldn't assert which were more passionate, the Spanish or English, the Dutch, Italians, Germans, Mexicans, Brazilians, or Argentinians; the list went on and on. Americans were tepid in comparison, but he couldn't say that on live television, not to ESPN or Fox or Sky or Telemundo or any other networks who sent reporters to cover a competition that meant.... What did soccer in America actually mean?

The US had never placed in the top three any year of World Cup play, except for a qualified third place finish in the initial tournament in 1930; no actual playoff game for losing semi-finalists had taken place, but the United States was given the nod over Yugoslavia due to tournament records. The best that America had done was in 2002, when reaching the last eight, losing to Germany 1-0. As a kid, Kendall had breathed by those facts, growing up loving soccer in a country where it ranked far below hockey, not even achieving active major league status until 1996. Living in San Diego had exposed him to Mexico's strong football base, but even as soccer exploded as a youth sport, it hadn't penetrated the upper echelon dominated by baseball, football, basketball, and hockey. Even hockey had more fans than soccer.

Kendall considered all that as fawning reporters asked identical questions. To those speaking Spanish, he answered in the same tongue, but he'd been doing that since his days at Real Madrid. Kendall had learned the fundamentals of that language in high school. Living so close to the Mexican border, he appreciated a cross-cultural fan base, and loved communicating with those whose passion for the game was inborn. No matter how ardent the supporter, a foreigner always outshone an American.

Except perhaps for his parents, Kendall smiled, as the last queries were posed. He then joined teammates already celebrating on the field, families gathering around Wilson and Trevor. Casey's wife was glued to her husband's side, and Kendall felt their joy, also small apprehensions. All season, Casey had blamed the game for interfering with their plans. Now there wouldn't be any excuse. Scouting for Natalie, Kendall stopped by Casey, again grabbing him in a bear hug. No words were exchanged; they had seen to it that a goal had been scored, but it could have been anyone else on the team. Yet, they had the glory. As Kendall pulled away, he ruffled Casey's thick blonde hair, then smiled at Casey's wife Melissa, a petite brunette. What kind of coloring would their child have?

Kendall moved away, waving to Wilson and his wife. Their two small sons looked just like their father with large brown eyes, close-cropped tight brown curls and enormous smiles. Wilson hoisted the youngest; Kendall couldn't recall the boy's name, but he shrieked _Daddy_ until Wilson's wife Delia told him to hush. Wilson pointed at Kendall. "Natalie was just here, looking for you."

"Tell her I'm looking for her," Kendall laughed. "My parents too."

"Good luck man," Wilson shouted, tickling his son.

Kendall nodded, stepping toward Trevor and his wife, whose name slipped Kendall's mind. Where was Natalie; was she waiting with his family, or was she lost in the multitudes. Trevor waved at Kendall, a tall, balding man Kendall's age, his wife also tall, with long strawberry blonde hair. She was seven months' pregnant, but their eldest, a girl, wasn't there.

Kendall skirted around other players, sometimes making eye contact, but his focus was on finding his kin, which included Natalie Koslow. Then he smiled, seeing her twenty feet away, a dense crowd between them.

Their eyes met, smiles too. Hers was like Wilson's wife Delia, beatific and proud. His was.... Kendall wondered what his grin revealed; hopefully just fatigue. He was bone-tired, felt little relief. Why wasn't he like everyone else on the pitch, euphoric or tearful. Behind Natalie, Kendall's family tried to squeeze through, but she reached him first, stroking his sticky face, her gentle nod bringing a semblance of life back to him. She knows, thank God, he thought. She's the only one who does.

Then she hugged him, not tightly, which both also understood. As Kendall pulled away, she grasped his hands. "Are you okay?"

He smiled, then nodded. Anything else would have been misunderstood. He wanted to shrug, say _meh_ at the top of his voice. His voice was intact, not hoarse from screams of pleasure. And later, it would remain intact, even after he and Natalie had sex. He chuckled. Nothing in his life was going to plan.

"You played great," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

Her voice was subdued; she didn't try to infer anything but the truth. He had played well, just like always. Even if I couldn't feel a damned thing, I went out and did my job, he sighed inwardly. I'm well paid to do it, and at least I managed that. "Thanks."

Neither had ever been overly effusive, why they had gotten together in the first place. Yet he wished she carried more sentiment, maybe it would spark his. Maybe she could heft him into the stratosphere like all the rest. Instead she kept him grounded, just like always, which had been necessary in the past. Kendall blinked, then saw his mom, dad, sister, and brother. And his past, like this day had occurred years ago.

He smiled, but felt sick, only staying upright because Natalie gripped his hand. He closed his eyes, his mom on one side, his father on the other. His brother's voice swirled around Kendall like a vice, while his sister's thrilled giggles punctured Kendall's eardrums. They called him Ken or Kenny, familial nicknames that did nothing to calm his rolling stomach. As they stood back, he opened his eyes, pretending they were reporters, that this was all part of the routine. But never in his entire life had he felt so disjointed within himself, or from his nearest and dearest.

He stared at the half-full stadium. It had been thirty minutes, at least, since time ended, since the rush of media, since, since.... "I, uh, God, I'm so tired," he mumbled.

His mother, Brenda, clucked. "Well, it's been a long season. Honey, are you all right?"

"Yeah, just need a minute." He squatted, which was painful, but near the ground something resonated. He wanted to lay face-down in the grass, maybe he would melt into it. Perhaps then he could pull himself back together and stand on feet that knew what in the hell was going on. Instead he stood, grasping Natalie's arm. He inhaled deeply, then smiled. "Okay, yeah, better. Feeling much better."

Just walk away, please, because I'm not okay, but I only want Natalie aware. He looked at his girlfriend. The slight shift of her blonde head offered small relief. "We better let you get to the locker room. I'll see you at home."

"Oh yeah," Kendall's dad Chris said. "Will we see you guys tomorrow?"

"Yeah, or the day after." Kendall nodded, looking at his parents, then his younger siblings. They couldn't tell anything was amiss, other than he was fully exhausted.

"Well, take your time." Brenda stroked his face, then smiled. "You've answered any remaining critics. Savor this Kenny. It's all yours."

Critics, he wanted to snort. She meant the media who still hounded American male players for not reaching any higher than the top eight in World Cup play. American women had won in 1999, placing within the top three slots otherwise. But the men lagged behind.

Kendall felt dogged by more than results and fatigue. Natalie gave him one kiss, then led his family away. He wanted to thank her for that courtesy, would see how she responded to his gratitude later. Later that night, once he had properly greeted and thanked everyone necessary, answered any loitering reporters, then he would drive away from the stadium; he loved driving, finally getting to use his hands for something. And if Natalie was in the mood, maybe he would use those hands to accurately tell her thanks. Maybe, he sighed, his plodding footsteps attempting to reach into the ground, retrieving any sense of purpose.

### Chapter 2

When Natalie turned over, she was only half surprised to see that Kendall wasn't beside her. For a few seconds, she stared at his empty place, then she looked at his clock; it was two in the morning.

She got up, used the toilet, washed her hands. Then she put on a robe, padding to the living room. He sat on a kitchen stool dragged near a large picture window. Blinds were mostly pulled, but he had cracked open the sliding glass door, gentle rumbles from the Pacific wafting into the dark, cavernous space. "Kendall?"

He turned, also in a robe, arms crossed over his chest. "Did I wake you?"

She came up behind him, first running fingers through his mop of hair, then setting her hands on his shoulders. He turned back to the window as she did so, but he gripped her fingers. "I had to pee," she said. "How long've you been up?"

"Maybe an hour. Couldn't sleep."

Three months ago, Kendall wouldn't have again faced the window. I would have stood, then embraced her, he mused, but something's changed here too, not just on the pitch. He clutched her hands and she reciprocated. "I'm too wound up, I guess. But you should go back to bed."

They had made a rushed but uninspired love when he got home, which hadn't felt any differently than the last few months, just like earlier that night, running around on the field, because that's what he did. Kendall chased a ball, had sex with Natalie. For five years they had been together, three of those spent in this spectacular house overlooking the ocean. Natalie Koslow designed exactly the kind of homes in which she and Kendall resided, imaginative living spaces wrapped into stunning nooks and crannies all along the West Coast. The couple graced magazine covers, one of those beautiful duos both in looks and careers, yet their profiles weren't overblown, in part because Natalie didn't crave the limelight, and that Kendall had chosen to play in America. Foreign clubs still sought his skills, but this was where Natalie wanted to live, and ultimately, Kendall did too.

"You wanna talk about it?"

He didn't flinch at her voice, as if he had been waiting for her to speak. The ocean's soft rumble seemed to heighten his senses within an odd silence that wasn't fully quiet. He had stirred from a strange dream, used the bathroom, then come out here, trying to.... What was he trying to do, find, resurrect? My heart, he sighed. "I just don't feel it anymore."

"I could tell. You wanted to be anywhere else tonight. Still," she chuckled, squeezing his hands. "You managed to win the game."

He nodded. "Don't know how the hell it happened." He turned, seeing her small smile. "But yeah, me and Casey somehow got it done."

"Herm say anything to you?"

"Gave me his patented death glare." Kendall shrugged, then grinned. "I'll get an earful in a day or three."

She nodded, then stared beyond him. "What do you wanna do?"

She said it as if she knew the answer. He sighed. "You ever feel this way, I mean, trying to figure out how something's gonna come together, but you have no idea how or why."

She met his gaze. She knows exactly what I mean, but can't, or won't answer me. Kendall stroked her cheek. She has the most beautiful blue eyes, she looks like the quintessential California girl, but she was born in Washington State. Yet those eyes are so deep; I used to feel safe when I looked at her. I haven't felt that way in....

"What do you wanna do Ken?"

She rarely called him anything but Kendall. Teammates and his family used Ken or Kenny, but in getting older, he preferred his whole name. "I have no idea, I mean...."

She nodded. "I'm going back to bed." She glanced at her bare feet, then toward the window. "My toes are cold."

He smiled. "I'll be right there."

"Okay." She brushed her cheek along his, then walked away. Kendall sat for another minute, then closed the sliding glass door, joining her in bed.

They ate a quiet breakfast on the terrace, overlooking the water. Their phones were at their elbows, but both ignored various calls and texts. Then Kendall smiled. "I wonder what would happen if I just chucked this thing in the ocean."

"They'd still find you."

"Mom and Herm would."

"Your dad and Casey too."

Kendall laughed, then picked up his phone. A long list waited on the screen, from his parents and coach to who he considered his best friend, apart from the woman seated across. Casey had passed the ball to Kendall not just because Kendall was in position, but because the men trusted each other. Kendall would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

Yet, in a matter of days their lives would be unharnessed, and not only due to Casey and his wife Melissa leaving for their ranch. In the off season, existences were unplugged from a central hub. For most of the off season, Kendall allowed. It wasn't any different in other sports; most players didn't live where they played, but for several months of a year they called home whatever city displayed their talents. Kendall was an exception, but then, San Diego was his actual hometown. That almost never happened.

He liked the routine; was that why he had left Real Madrid, returning to America, to SoCal? The career he could have had in Europe would have been astronomical in terms of personal success, yet, he came home, unable to sever these roots. He had two straight Major League Soccer titles to show for it. World Cup and Olympic triumphs wouldn't have occurred no matter where he played professionally. Professionally, he had chosen his home nation, his literal childhood backyard, because this was where he had learned the fundamentals of soccer, of football. The sport's names were interchangeable in his head, yet he preferred football, because that was what it boiled down to, his feet and one ball. All his life he had never been far away from the ball.

And not just any ball; the only ball to matter was round, nimbly skipping along the pitch due to how he placed it there. When Casey had shot him the ball, even for how empty Kendall felt inside, outwardly he knew just what to do; stopping it with his left leg, turning his body slightly, then kicking out his right leg, making direct contact, all in seconds. It takes just seconds, he considered, absently staring at the phone flashing in his hand.

"Who is it?" Natalie asked, finishing her juice.

Kendall looked at her; tousled hair brushed just past her shoulders. She was drop-dead gorgeous no matter the time of day, those eyes so knowledgeable of him. She blinked, setting the glass on the table. "What?" she asked.

Nothing mattered, not her, not whoever was desperate to speak to him. Not the ball, or any ball. Kendall gazed at the phone; it was his brother Brendan. They were probably worried; Kendall hadn't returned any calls or texts since last night. He stared at the horizon; small clouds framed a body of water that went further than his sight. Why didn't any of this matter?

"Here, give it to me. I'll text them, tell them you're still sleeping. Or in the shower." She paused. "Kendall?"

"What? Oh, uh-huh, yeah, thanks. Actually," he licked his lips while handing her the phone. "I'm gonna take a shower."

In giving her the device, he felt one small flicker. He closed his eyes, inhaling, as if to draw more of a flame. But nothing altered, that small spark was extinguished. Kendall opened his eyes, then kissed the top of Natalie's head. Sliding the screen, he walked into the living room.

When she joined him in the shower, he was pleased, something she hadn't done in weeks. They made love, soothing and almost reaching into him. That spark sputtered, then was put out, not by the water pouring over them, but something else, which was starting to bug him. Natalie washed her hair, then rinsed off. "You gonna be in here a while?"

He shook his head, a waste of water if he couldn't even identify what was wrong. Kendall rinsed off, then stopped the water. The shower was a large marble enclosure with glass doors. As he dripped off, she used the squeegee to wipe down the walls. Then she looked at him. "I talked to your mom, told her you were just exhausted. She said she would pass along the message."

"Thanks."

"She sounded a little worried."

He nodded. "I'm getting a little worried too."

Natalie didn't smile. "I don't have anything going on today. If you feel like it...."

What was there to tell her, nothing concrete, only a definite notion of his entire purpose having been sucked away. Still, that small flicker from earlier teased. He just had no idea how to fuel it.

They dressed, then she made the bed while he texted the minimum, which did not include his parents. He wrote to Herm, Casey, Wilson, and Trevor. Then again he felt the urge to throw his phone over the terrace. If it smashed into pieces, maybe something might resonate within him.

He flopped onto the sofa, staring at the enormous flat-screen TV, tablets on the coffee table. Very little clutter, but neither he nor Natalie were pack rats. All his sporting trophies were in La Jolla, stored in his old bedroom. A few distinct plaques were displayed on his parents' walls, but he hadn't been raised in an ostentatious home. He had been raised to excel in whatever gifts he possessed, and the day after winning the MLS title, he looked around his domain. No evidence that he was a sports star lingered.

Kendall had never required those trappings, what did they mean? All that he was went with him in every step, each breath. Other than a ball and the pitch, he only needed legs, lungs, and eyes. If the day ever came when he couldn't walk, breathe, or see, well, that would be it.

His heart had never been considered. Unlike his lungs, which needed constant training to provide enough oxygen to his muscles, his heart pumped blood no matter the level of activity. Kendall could lump his lungs in that too, but he thought of them like his legs, something to exercise. His heart had been separate; it had always supplied the appropriate blood flow and the correct intensity. Suddenly it was as precarious as the rest.

He set his palm over his chest, wondering how long he had taken this muscle for granted. As Natalie sat beside him, it wasn't only sport for which his heart had waned. She smiled, as if aware. "What're you thinking about?"

Her voice sounded differently, nothing seemed clear. Yesterday he had woke with that same nagging uncertainty. Today it was exacerbated. "If I told you that nothing seems to matter, would you think I'd lost my mind?"

Sex in shower had been half-way between making love and rote intercourse, the same last night when he came home. It had been that way, he allowed, since the middle of summer, but only now was it obvious. In summer and autumn, the game had come first, but merely on a list of priorities. Kendall still had priorities, but nothing to substantiate them.

Natalie grasped his hand. "Can you be more specific?"

He smiled, then winced. Her intelligence was often overshadowed by her beauty. Clients soon learned what Kendall knew from right after he met her; she was insightful, empathetic. I used to love her deeply, he thought, but that's not even the same anymore. Now I appreciate her friendship, her presence. I can still have sex with her, but what turns it into something more has slipped away. "I love you." He tried to relay what that now meant, but wasn't sure if he could vocalize gratitude without sounding condescending.

She nodded, entwining her fingers with his. "It hasn't been the same since summer."

He exhaled loudly. "Oh my God, yeah." He met her gaze. "It's the game, us, everything. Everything's just...."

He stood, slowly taking in the sparse room. Then he looked at windows, behind which the ocean waited. The lack of furnishings wasn't the issue, the water didn't matter. This house, as beautiful and skillfully designed as it was, held no meaning. The stadium just hours ago had felt the same, alien and empty. He turned back to her. She wasn't crying, nor did she look sad. "I think I need to get away for a while."

"I think you do. What will you tell Herm?"

Kendall smiled. His coach was first in both of their minds, now that Kendall had admitted it to her. "My contract is up, maybe I don't need to say much at all."

"You're funny," she chuckled.

He rejoined her, grasping her hands. "He's gonna shit a brick." Then Kendall laughed. "Well, if he wasn't so damned German, he'd shit one. He'll sigh, tap his foot, grimace. He'll do a lot of grimacing."

But he won't argue with me, not vociferously. He could see it well before last night, even before the playoffs. He never said anything, not his way. But when I said _goodnight_ to him as I left the locker room, he stared right through me. He knows me, just like Natalie does. Kendall stroked her face. "Everyone else'll think I've lost it, but not Herm. Or you."

She nodded, then gripped his fingers. "I think space will be good for us both."

Just space or something more permanent? Kendall lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. Previously that action had elicited an intense and immediate physical response within him. Now it felt like a goodbye. "I won't ask you to wait for me."

She met his gaze. "Yeah?"

Her small surprise wounded him. Maybe she doesn't know just how disconnected I feel, from soccer and from her. "I might be gone a while."

"How long?"

I have no idea. "Maybe, hell, I dunno." He released her hand, then stood. Did he need to live here again, did he want to? "I'm gonna take off a year, at least." His heart lurched, then felt to restart, albeit weakly. This is necessary, more than either of us realized. He looked in her direction, hands in her lap, her head nodding. But now she didn't meet his gaze.

He wanted to tell her it wasn't that he didn't love her anymore, or the game. He cared about them both, but not as before. Nothing felt like it had months ago, some buffer had been erected. But was that shield around him, or those people and a game that had never left him empty? Kendall knelt in front of her, clasping her hands that were wet from tears. "Oh Natalie, God, I'm sorry, I'm...."

She looked up, an odd smile on her streaked face. "I've been wondering how long you were gonna ignore it." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, then sighed. "It's just not the same anymore."

He nodded, slightly relieved that she seemed to agree. "I want you to have the house."

"What?"

He winced again; that made it sound so final. Were they actually breaking up, or was this just a sabbatical? A few years ago, when Casey married Melissa, Kendall had considered popping the question to this woman. He had declined after they talked about what a wedding meant; her parents went through a messy divorce when Natalie was fifteen, and she wasn't keen on exploring that avenue. Kendall had never thought of his future without Natalie, but he had never dreamed of leaving soccer. He was actually speaking of these things, but he didn't feel ill or tired. Instead, that small flicker seemed to inch higher, still not much past a flash of heat, but more than he had felt in months.

"Natalie, I wanna sign the house over to you." He gazed behind her to the immaculate kitchen, granite countertops gleaming. "I want you to have it and...."

She nodded, then took a deep breath. "Don't say anymore."

He leaned toward her, nuzzling against her brow. "For the last five years, you've given me a purpose, made me reach into myself where no one else's ever been. I know it's just a house, but it's more than that, you know how much it means, it means...."

Everything, he didn't say, as she gently kissed him like they were already old, good friends. She pulled back, blinking away a few last tears. "What will you do?"

"Hell if I know." He smiled, a different ache within him. "But I need to get away, to just take a rest. God, I feel like I could sleep for ages."

He regretted that sentence; it wasn't only her that he needed to flee. "I didn't mean it like that."

She smiled, then patted the sofa. He sat beside her. "I know, I mean, you need space. I do too."

"If I come back, I mean...." Of course I'll come back. "When I come back, maybe, I mean, who knows?"

"Yeah, who knows?" She giggled, then sighed. "When you come back, we'll see what happens. But unless you really wanna leave soon, I mean...."

"Yeah?"

"What about Christmas?"

He smiled. The only time she bothered to decorate was for that holiday. Boxes were stored in the guest room closet, ornaments and trinkets and an artificial tree. They spent all month sprucing the house, lights adorning the terrace as if they were married with a houseful of kids. Yearly they alternated where they ate dinner, and that year it was with his family. His siblings weren't married, it was just grown children, but his was a unit intact. Kendall nodded, then kissed her cheek. "Sure, I'll stay until Christmas. Mom would blow a gasket otherwise."

"She would shit a brick," Natalie smiled.

"Yeah, she would." Kendall looked to the right, where the guest room, and those Christmas decorations, waited. "Maybe I'll sleep in there until then."

"Maybe you should."

He nodded, wishing to hold her hand. Was that morning in the shower the last time they would have sex? "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Can I kiss you?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah Kendall, you can kiss me."

He moved toward her, then suddenly stopped. Instead he caressed her face. "Maybe I can't."

"Maybe." She placed her hand over his, still on her cheek. "I feel it too. It's not just you."

"Yeah?"

She traced the small scar under his lower lip. Then she stood, tucking her hair behind her ears. She faced him. "Will you still be my friend?"

"Yeah, oh yeah." He joined her, then was in her arms. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, as she started to cry. "Natalie, I will always be your friend."

### Chapter 3

Twenty-four hours later, Kendall sat in Herm Schlatter's office. Open windows caught a mild breeze that didn't feel at all like December. Kendall wore shorts, a t-shirt, and old sandals. He didn't look like a soccer star, more like a beach bum, which had been Herm's first accusation when Kendall broke the news.

Herm didn't stand or shake his fist. He glared at Kendall, then scribbled something on an old white legal pad. A tablet and monitor sat on the left side of Herm's desk, but the coach always carried that relic, as Kendall and Wilson teased. Now Herm looked at Kendall with a wry smile. "They're going to think you're jerking them around."

"It's not about money."

Herm inhaled deeply, then nodded. "I know it's not. But they won't believe you."

Kendall cracked his knuckles, then stood. "I'll sign whatever they want. This's the only team I'll ever play for, but I just can't be here next year."

Telling his coach hadn't been as hard as Kendall imagined; what would be worse was telling Casey, Wilson, Trevor, and the rest. Then his parents, although his brother Brendan and sister Lindsay might understand. Brendan played baseball in the San Diego Padres farm system, while Lindsay was a professional cellist; all three Schultzes owned extraordinary talents, also knew the cost of those gifts. Burnout was an occasional hazard, but if Kendall didn't walk away now.... He turned back to Herm. "Only between us will I say this. I need at least a year, maybe two. Like I said, I'll sign whatever waiver they wanna produce; I won't commit to any other club, not for all the money in the world. But if I don't leave now...."

"I know, I know." Herm stood, dressed in a Polo shirt and khaki's. On game days he wore a casual suit, at practices track pants and crisp white t-shirts. There in the office, he looked like it was a dress down Friday, an ensemble Herm Schlatter would wear during the entire off season, except when he went home to Bavaria for Christmas. "When are you going to break it to the rest?"

Kendall smiled; he meant the team, then the media. Kendall would tell his agent next, then Sandy Schulman could inform FCSD's owners. But it was up to Kendall to share this news with men whom he considered brothers. He would tell them even before he informed his family.

"In another day or so. Most are sticking around until the end of the week, so...." He sighed. This was real, easing his heart, also leaving permanent scars. Even when he came back, _if_ he came back, the camaraderie wouldn't be the same, in part because some of those men would be gone. Also that time eroded the bonds players cultivated day in and out during the season. When FC San Diego met up again next spring, Kendall would be missed, but life would go on.

"Well, that would be best. Get it finalized." Herm adjusted his glasses, then cleared his throat. "You are one of the best players I have ever coached. Ever." Herm didn't smile, or raise his eyebrows. "You have always performed at the highest level, even if those surrounding you weren't of the same caliber. A pity that you'll never play in a World Cup final." He permitted a small grin. "But then Beckham never did either. Sometimes it happens."

Kendall laughed. "Something the two of us have in common, I guess."

"One thing," Herm smiled.

They shook hands, then Kendall chuckled. "I do feel like a bum." He pulled at his shirt, then ran a hand through his long hair. "But at least I feel it." He gazed to the window, then at his coach. He was my coach half an hour ago, Kendall realized, but not anymore. "I need to feel it again, you know?"

Herm Schlatter was not a hands-on sort, but he grasped Kendall's left shoulder. "I know. Don't come back until you do."

Kendall nodded.

Herm released Kendall, then made a grumbling sound. "Let me know when you've told your agent." He sat in his chair, making notes on the legal pad. Then he gazed at Kendall. "Then be ready for the onslaught. Not so much here," he grinned. "But Europe will go crazy with this news."

Kendall sighed. "I told you I wouldn't sign...."

Herm finally laughed. "Oh, I believe you. But they won't, not until you're back in a San Diego kit. Be aware of that Kendall. No one in the media will believe anything you say."

But will the ones most important believe me, Kendall wondered. "Thanks Coach."

"Herm now. I'm not your coach anymore."

"Herm?" Kendall looked suspicious.

"Or Mr. Schlatter, whichever you prefer."

Kendall chuckled as he left his former coach's office, and was still smiling as he left the stadium.

From his car, Kendall made three calls; one was to Natalie, but she didn't pick up, and he left a message. Then to his agent, Sandy Schulman. The forty-eight-year-old was incredulous, which Kendall accepted. They argued for ten minutes, then Schulman hung up on his client. Herm's not my coach anymore, Kendall sighed, sitting in his Mercedes in the empty stadium parking lot. Maybe I'll fire Shulman.

Kendall called Herm, noting that the agent was aware. Then Kendall drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Sandy's number flashed and Kendall let it ring three times, then answered it. "Yeah?"

"Are you shitting me? A whole friggin' year?"

"Maybe two." Kendall smiled, but kept his voice somber.

"Two fucking years? Shit!"

Kendall stifled a laugh as a crash resounded in the background.

"Sandy, I need time off. Now I understand this's outta the blue, I haven't even told my parents yet, but...."

"Who the hell have you told?"

"Natalie and Herm Schlatter." Not Mr. Schlatter, Kendall decided there and then.

"Well shit." Something else clanged to the floor. "All right, listen, whatever you do, doesn't fucking sign anything until I read it. They'll probably give you a waiver or something but...."

"Sandy, when I play again, it'll only be with San Diego."

"Shit Kendall, just slit my throat, all right?"

I'd fire you now if I could, Kendall fumed. "Look, I've got things to do. Tell them I'm not gonna sign with any other team, not in the States or abroad. I just need some time, I need to...." Kendall sighed. He wouldn't tell his long-time agent he needed to get his head together. Sandy would just tell him to pull it out of his ass.

"Yeah, yeah, all right, shit. Listen Kendall, I mean it about whatever they want you to sign. I look it over first."

"I'll think about it." Kendall hung up on his agent, then turned off his phone.

Kendall drove around San Diego freeways that he knew almost as well as a soccer pitch. The 8, 808 and the 5 were second homes as well as interweaving lanes of concrete curving around palm trees and hilly neighborhoods, all easily navigable in the late morning. The top was down on his cobalt blue 1997 Mercedes 500 SL, a custom paint job on a car that he had owned for the last three years. He hadn't wanted a new Benz, preferring a vehicle from before the company merged with Chrysler. Kendall also owned a silver Volkswagen Golf, for commuting. But the 500 SL was his baby.

He'd had his license since turning sixteen, and had driven in Spain during his time at Real Madrid. Where soccer demanded only his feet, within a vehicle Kendall could employ hands that ached to be used. He loved gripping the wheel and gear shift, or fiddling with knobs and buttons. Driving was instinctive, as if all those hours spent in training left his hands severely underutilized. He didn't feel so compelled when surfing the web, and he rarely typed anything, didn't have a Facebook. He did have an Instagram account, but not even snapping pictures provided the relief that commanding a car offered. Yet, there were only so many roadways, even in San Diego. Kendall took some exits, then found himself in an exclusive enclave. He pulled up near a gated community, then turned back on his phone. A flurry of calls and texts waited; none were from Natalie, the only one Kendall might have wished to hear from. He pulled up Casey's number, then let the phone ring.

No answer on the first try, but Kendall wouldn't be deterred. He texted Casey Alspach, then called him again. Then Kendall got out of his car, stood by the door, and called again, leaving a message. "Pick up your goddamn phone, asshole." Unlike Sandy Schulman, Kendall wasn't prone to using profanities, but occasionally they made a point. Casey called back less than a minute later.

"Kenny, what the hell?"

"Are you presentable or have you and Melissa been practicing?"

"Uh, sure, shit. Kenny, is something wrong?"

Kendall took a deep breath, then got back in his car. "Not life or death, but I need to talk to you."

Kendall fought a smile as it sounded like Casey was getting dressed. "Yeah, okay. Shit. All right. Mel'll let you in. But this better be good Schultz."

Good was a relative description, Kendall sighed, as the gate opened. He set down his phone, started the car, then drove up the hill, the gate slowly sliding shut behind him.

Casey and Melissa Alspach spent most of the year in their four thousand square foot residence, five bedrooms, six bathrooms, a pool and hot tub in the spacious backyard. It wasn't as clutter-free as Kendall and Natalie's place, but without children, it lacked a sense of home. Kendall smiled as Melissa offered him iced tea, her hair a little messy, her color high. Yet she didn't seem caught-out, although Casey looked like he'd just tumbled out of bed, or was on the sidelines, his blonde mane in tangles. He was dressed like Kendall, in shorts and an old t-shirt, but was barefoot. The men sat on the patio, the pool to the right, a vast green lawn bordered by shrubs and citrus trees. Kendall imagined that as soon as a baby arrived, a swing set and sandbox wouldn't be far behind.

"So what couldn't wait huh?" Casey drank his tea, then stared at Kendall. "God, you sounded like someone was dying."

"I'm leaving the team."

Casey spat iced tea all over his shirt and the table. "You're what?"

Kendall chuckled as Melissa came running from the kitchen. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm...." Casey wiped his chin with the bottom of his shirt, then stared at Kendall. "Did you say you're leaving the team?"

Melissa looked at Kendall. "You're leaving, oh my God why?"

"I need to get away, I need to...." Kendall stood, admiring the clear blue water, the smooth green grass, trees heavy with ripening oranges, lemons, and limes. Who cared for this place when Casey and Melissa were at their ranch, and for how much longer would they have two distinct homes? Maybe only one main residence after they had a baby; this would be where little Alspach Junior would race and roam. Kendall gazed back at the couple; Melissa sat on Casey's lap, her face buried in his damp t-shirt. She was crying, which struck Kendall; he wasn't only leaving the sport, but another family too.

"Hey, listen, I just need some time away." He knelt beside Casey's chair. "If I don't take some time off now...."

"How much time?" Casey asked, stroking his wife's head, but looking at Kendall.

"A year. At least." Kendall thought it would be more like two, but wouldn't add to the couple's turmoil. It wasn't just Melissa, still teary. Casey's gray eyes were wide, his face ashen. Kendall nodded, silently confirming the shock. The rest of his teammates would be just as shaken.

"I haven't even told my parents," Kendall said, standing. He pulled his chair close to them, then sat down. Melissa looked his way, and his heart was pinched. His mother would probably appear as equally wounded. "But I needed to tell you guys first."

"Who knows?" Slowly Casey reached for his glass. He took a sip, then offered it to his wife.

"Just you guys, Herm, my agent, and Natalie."

Casey snorted. "I bet Schulman was pissed."

"Yeah, that's putting it mildly."

Melissa untangled herself from her husband, then wiped her face with her hand. "Listen, I'll, uh, let you guys hash this out." She hastily kissed the top of Kendall's head, then scurried into the house.

Kendall watched her close the sliding glass door, then he faced Casey. "Listen, I'm really sorry, I just wanted to tell you."

Casey stood, then took a breath. "We'd spent the morning just relaxing, you know." He laughed, then faced Kendall. "Man, I know what it's like, feeling the weight of the world, I mean, shit. I'm glad we won, don't get me wrong, but now there's other things I wanna do." Casey smiled, then glanced at the house. Then he looked at Kendall. "But quitting, walking away? Dude, are you serious?"

"Is she okay?" Kendall turned around; the sliding glass door was still closed.

"Are you okay?" Casey returned to his chair, leaning forward. "Kenny, is something wrong with you and Natalie?"

Kendall shook his head. Over that issue, he definitely wanted to tell his parents first. "No man, it's just me. I haven't felt right since summer. I need a break, just something different."

Casey nodded. "God, don't I know that!"

They laughed, drank their tea. Then Casey sighed. "Listen, come to the ranch this winter. That'll clear your head."

"What, and listen to you two go at it all night? No thanks."

Casey smiled. "Hell, at the rate we're going, not gonna make any fucking difference where we get it on."

Kendall nearly asked if Melissa had started her period; just last week Casey had alluded that they were waiting, but he hadn't sounded hopeful. Kendall had never seen Melissa so upset. "Is she...."

"We're not pregnant. Again." Casey threw up his hands. "If nothing happens in January, we'll probably see a specialist."

Kendall didn't smile, but felt that wouldn't be necessary. Most of that year had been spent with Casey trembling on sidelines or covering every inch of a football pitch. This couple just needed copious amounts of solitude. Yet, Kendall might drive to Bakersfield in the new year, once Casey and Melissa had enjoyed a few weeks to themselves. He wouldn't take the Mercedes, then he winced. Where would he keep the Benz?

Not in Natalie's garage. Kendall stood, then stretched. "Listen, don't think about that now. You've got all winter to...." He smiled. "Have fun with your wife and take it easy. I'll hang out with you guys once Christmas is over." But I'll need somewhere to stay in the interim, Kendall then mused.

Casey joined him, hands thrust into his pockets. "Are you really gonna just walk away?"

Kendall stared straight ahead. "If I don't, I don't know what'll happen."

Casey started shaking his head. "Shit man, I don't know what to say. God, are you sure?"

Kendall turned to his friend, his best friend. Casey was jerky as if right before a match. Kendall set his hands on Casey's shoulders. "You ever feel like nothing means anything?"

"Kenny, what is it?"

Kendall dropped his arms to his sides, then scuffed his sandal along the concrete. "All I've ever lived for is the game. Since I can remember, and I mean it, soccer was all that mattered. I love Natalie, but...." I do still love her, but even that's changed. Trying to kiss her yesterday after we talked would have been like kissing my sister. How in the hell did we have sex in the shower? How does life change so quickly, like there's no time to think or breathe?

Casey's long sigh made Kendall smile. "But you need something different. Mel and I need something different, shit. If we don't get pregnant this month, Christ!"

Then Casey stared at Kendall. "Are you sure everything's okay with Natalie, are you guys...."

"We're fine." Kendall cleared his throat. "I just need a break."

"You're contract's up, you thinking about...."

"I wouldn't sign with anyone but San Diego."

"You wouldn't or you won't?"

"I won't." But _when_ is a big question. "Case, there's nowhere else I wanna play. I just need to wanna play again."

They stared at each other, then to the house, as the sliding glass door opened. "Case, your phone!"

"You think everyone knows?" Casey asked Kendall.

"They might. Schulman's got a big mouth. I really wanted to tell the guys first." Not to mention my family, Kendall inwardly fumed. Maybe I'll fire Sandy Schulman, what a prick.

"Come on, it's probably just my parents, bugging the hell outta me. God, we better get pregnant soon or my mother's gonna camp out in the living room." Casey laughed as they walked toward where Melissa stood in the doorway, her husband's phone in her hand.

Kendall was relieved that it was only Casey's relatives, still congratulating him on the title. That championship seemed far away to Kendall, who only stayed a few more minutes. Melissa hugged him tightly and told him not to be a stranger. They were heading to their ranch in another week, leaving this house in the care of a property manager. They would be back after Christmas, just to start harvesting the plentiful citrus trees, and she said if he and Natalie wanted anything to call the agency watching the house. Someone could meet them at the main gate and let them in the backyard.

Exiting that gate, Kendall pulled off the street, trying Natalie. They spoke briefly; she was glad for his conversations with Herm and Casey, but hadn't been surprised about Schulman's diatribe. And as far as the internet showed, Kendall Schultz was still at FC San Diego.

Kendall didn't feel like a member of the club, and didn't assume he and Natalie were any more than close friends, the way he was with Casey. He would do anything for either of them, except play soccer and stay in this city. Maybe he would spend a few weeks on Casey's ranch, maybe a month. Or maybe he would hop on a jet, fly wherever the wind took him. He could go anywhere he wanted, money was no object, but in many places he wouldn't be left alone, which was what he wanted most. He needed to be distanced from sport and California. Maybe Casey's ranch would be a pit stop; they wouldn't be able to avoid talking about the game and eventually Casey would pull out a ball and they would kick it back and forth, like in practice. Kendall sighed, wondering if his parents might store his Mercedes. He didn't care about the Golf, would sell it. But the Benz....

His car mattered, and he smiled, taking the off-ramp to where he still lived. He would call Wilson and Trevor, see if they could all meet together. The rest of the team was lumped under an umbrella that could learn this news right before the rest of the world did. Kendall reached his street, taking corners slowly. The Benz growled, but he didn't care. He parked in the driveway, Natalie's BMW waiting. These cars had been together for three years. But not everything lasted.

Kendall unlocked the front door, calling for Natalie. Her voice floated from the terrace, and he headed that way, finding shopping bags on the counter. Usually she put everything away immediately. Nothing was normal now.

She sat at the small table where just yesterday they had shared breakfast. That morning he ate alone, she was already gone. She looked at him, her face red. He sat beside her, clasping her hands. "You okay?"

"Your mom called me, asked if something was up. Have you talked to them?"

He shook his head, his guts churning. He hadn't felt this way in telling Herm or Casey, although Melissa's tears had made him wince. His mother's upset would do the same. "Guess I should go over there."

She nodded. "How'd Casey and Melissa take it?"

"She took it badly. He was more upset that they're not knocked up yet." That wasn't true, but nearly. "He wants me to visit them at their ranch. I probably will."

"You should." Natalie faced the water. "I started thinking about what it means, what'll change. Yesterday it wasn't so hard, but today...."

"You want me to leave?"

She turned to him. "I don't want you to go at all."

Kendall sighed. She didn't, it was all over her, those blue eyes so clouded. But equally she wouldn't beg him to stay. "Natalie, I'm sorry, I am so, so...."

She set a finger to his lips. "If you don't leave, you won't be the man I fell in love with. I know that. It's just, shit." She shrugged. "There's nothing we can do to change it."

"No, there isn't." Oh honey, what I would give.... Kendall stood, then gently caressed her shoulders. "Maybe I should move out. Case asked if it was something with us and I lied. But staying here isn't the truth either."

Natalie slowly shook her head.

"I'll call Mom, ask if she can make up my bed." He chuckled. "Everything's gonna hit the fan anyway. No delaying the inevitable."

"Kendall, I'm sorry."

He took his seat, gripping her hands. "This isn't your fault. This's...." Just life. Sometimes it sucks, even if I did score the winning goal. "It'll be better this way. Or maybe just a little easier."

She caressed his face and he fought the urge to kiss her. It would be like yesterday, but she's not my girlfriend anymore. She is like my sister; God, what a mess.

"It won't be easy for a long time," she said, setting her hands in her lap.

"No, but it won't always be like this." Although he had no idea what else it might become. "Listen, I'm gonna go call Mom." He sighed, standing slowly. "You gonna be okay?"

"I won't jump, if that's what you mean." Her voice was light, but she didn't look at him.

"Well, good. Schulman would be on my ass about that too."

Kendall walked into the living room, then stared at the grocery bags. Had she been hoping he might change his mind? Would she still join them for Christmas? He turned back toward the terrace, hearing Natalie on the phone, with her mother, it sounded like, making plans for the two of them to get together that weekend. He nodded to himself, then pulled out his phone, tapping the screen. "Hi Mom? Hey, how are you?"

### Chapter 4

Waking to his parents' voices and the strong scent of coffee, Kendall felt five, ten, or fifteen years old. This was the third morning he had stirred in his old room, where trophies lined shelves, plaques covered walls alongside framed team photos from when Kendall first donned a soccer uniform. His mother had never thrown out a single item to do with his career, which didn't start in Spain, but at the tender age of five or six. Kendall couldn't even remember anymore.

His mom knew all the details, as if she had single-handedly written his Wikipedia page. His father stressed the work ethic; Chris Schultz was an engineer, had also played high school basketball. His two sons were athletes, but Kendall's gifts were the kind that came along once in a generation. Yet, in the Schultz home, all three children's talents were feted, why all these knick-knacks were crammed into Kendall's old room. Lindsay and Brendan's achievements weren't forgotten just because Kendall was a superstar.

That morning, he felt like an overgrown teenager, having moved home, albeit temporarily. His parents had taken the news about Natalie as Kendall had expected; his mother wept, his father gently shook his head, not in rebuke, only in sorrow; privately they had hoped Kendall would propose to his longtime girlfriend. Natalie wouldn't spend Christmas with them; instead she and her mother would go skiing in Colorado. At that moment, none of the Schultz offspring had partners; their holiday would be a flashback to their youths before Kendall was a world-wide phenomenon.

The news of his departure had leaked late last night, right before he went to bed. Kendall Schultz, fresh off his MLS title-winning goal, was walking away from soccer, or football, depending on what source reported the story. He was thankful for having spoken to his teammates yesterday morning, all taking the news just like Casey had, as Wilson and Trevor the day before. Those two men had been as shaken as Casey, the rest of FC San Diego quietly stunned. Kendall wasn't sure if someone from the front office had spilled the story, maybe even a teammate. A former teammate, he sighed, sitting up in his twin bed. All those years at home he had slept in a twin bed, surrounded by prizes and pictures of himself. Sport had been all that mattered. Maybe an early burnout wasn't a surprise.

He was thirty, and living at home. Then he rolled his eyes. Just for another night, maybe two. He needed to decide what he was going to do after Christmas and where he was going to live in the meantime. His parents would love it if he stayed there the rest of the month, but for many reasons Kendall needed different accommodations, the biggest being all these trophies. His mom should box them up, maybe auction them off for charity. Someone would pay money for the stepping stones of Kendall's past.

He needed a place to store his current belongings, most of those still at Natalie's. His parents thought it very gracious of him to leave her the house, while his brother Brendan had been surprised. Lindsay asked what he was going to do with his cars, but she had said it in jest, which had lightened the otherwise dismal mood. He said she could have the Golf, after he came back from Bakersfield. His only plan was to spend a couple of weeks on Casey's ranch, right after New Year's. Maybe by then, he would have more of a blueprint for the rest of the year.

The year used to be thought of as a season, the months Kendall was committed to football. He got out of bed, then stared at the team photo from his first year at Real Madrid. He looked nearly the same, his hair shaggy, his frame unchanged. By then he was to his full height of five foot ten, weighing one hundred sixty pounds. Those stats hadn't altered throughout his twenties, but at just twenty years old, he stood with men far advanced in talent and age. Now they didn't look as commanding as he remembered.

Now he was where they had been, fully mindful of the demands so few understood. Had he truly fathomed what it meant to play in Spain at just twenty years of age, and that he was an American? The European press had enjoyed a field day during his first months, but unbothered by the media, he quickly proved why Real had chosen him. He had never let reporters get into his head; he was there to play soccer, football. He smiled. He was a football player.

But not as most of his countrymen knew; he would garner international sport headlines for another few days, but America's idea of football was very different from the rest of the world. That arrogance had kept Kendall grounded; he might be legendary outside his country, but within it, he could mostly do what he pleased.

Once the shock wore off, Kendall's life could be whatever he chose to make of it. He inhaled, then headed for the bathroom right across the hall. After signing his initial contract with FCSD, he had settled what remained of his parents' mortgage, and hadn't been surprised that they continued living in the house where he, Lindsay, and Brendan had grown up. Chris and Brenda hadn't raised their children to live pretentious lives. They had required all three to look outside themselves for fulfillment. It was a fluke that Kendall's passion had translated as it did. Also a coincidence that his career was so revered outside their country, somewhat obscured within it. If Kendall wanted to lie low for the next year or two, all he would have to do is stay within America's borders. If he required adulation, one quick hop to Mexico would soothe that itch.

He could go anywhere on the planet and be idolized. But he didn't want that, he needed quiet and solitude, someplace where he could completely disconnect from sport. He washed his hands in the same bathroom he had used as a child and teenager without a second thought to what his life was about. It was about scoring goals, endlessly running around a pitch. He could run forever, but suddenly it felt like a treadmill, getting him nowhere.

He slipped back into his room, putting on a robe. Then he took it off, it felt too formal. He had slept in boxers, but needed more than that; this wasn't his house and Natalie wasn't waiting in the kitchen or on the terrace. He might be thirty years old, but here he was Brenda and Chris' boy.

Kendall emerged in shorts and a t-shirt, again feeling like a beach bum. I could do that, he smiled, as his mother offered him a cup of coffee. "You sleep well?" she asked.

He sat at the kitchen counter, inhaling the brew alongside decades of living in one place, like no other existed. Maybe isolation wasn't necessary; maybe he needed to see the world. But the world wouldn't afford him the required down-time. What to do, what to do, he mused, as his mother asked if he wanted breakfast.

He stared at her, blonde highlights masking gray hair. She looked her age, fifty-five, but not in an elderly way. Natalie's mom appeared older, but she smoked, and drank some too. Brenda looked like all the other women Kendall associated with being in their mid-fifties.

"Kenny, you hungry?" She smiled, opening the fridge.

"What, oh, uh, no. Yeah, uh...." He sipped the coffee, then set the cup on the smooth granite counter. They had updated the kitchen a few years back, spending money that no longer went to a house payment. His father worked part-time, hadn't been ready to fully retire. Kendall turned around; Chris sat on the sofa, a tablet in hand. He was fifty-seven, gray-haired, and dressed just like Herm Schlatter, in a Polo shirt, khaki trousers, and loafers. Chris had more hair than Kendall's former coach, didn't wear glasses. But otherwise they were the same sort of men, quiet but determined, expecting much from those with whom they associated. Chris had never hassled Kendall to succeed, it was all implied. Maybe the rest of America was going to hell in a hand basket, Kendall remembered his father saying, but not this family.

It was the harshest language his dad had ever used; Kendall swore a little, just to make a point. But that kind of display wasn't common within this home. Kendall smiled, then gazed at his mom, who had closed the refrigerator. He drank more coffee, then went to her side, giving her a hug. They weren't overly demonstrative, but she didn't shy away. "Mom, I'm sorry. I'll make some toast in a little while."

She nodded, then smiled. Natalie had taught him to be more affectionate, although she wasn't fawning. He wondered how she was, wanted to talk to someone who understood. His parents hadn't chastised his decision to leave the game, although clearly they didn't comprehend it. Brendan did, twenty-five and a minor league outfielder. He was aching to reach the major leagues, would give it another year. If that didn't happen, he would go back to school and study law.

Twenty-seven-year-old Lindsay had offered her big brother kind words over the phone. She spent most of her time on the road with various orchestras, wasn't inclined to settling down. Their mother never hinted about grandchildren, but maybe that was because she had assumed Kendall and Natalie were just steps away from marriage. What were people's lives all about, Kendall wondered, as his mom left the kitchen, joining his dad on the sofa. They began talking quietly; Kendall observed how his mother sat right beside his dad, Chris' arm coming around her, erasing their ages. Suddenly they were Kendall's age, consumed with only each other. But they had earned that right; their kids were grown, making their own ways. Maybe grandchildren and big family gatherings weren't meant for everyone.

Had Kendall wanted that with Natalie, some cozy nest with a load of kids; it wouldn't have happened in their house, her house now, or with him obsessed with sport for several months of the year. Or her job either; they had chosen demanding careers, leaving enough time for each other. Kendall poured more coffee, still eyeing his parents. They had raised a family, but didn't seem to need more descendants. They hadn't downsized their house, but maybe it was a comfortable hideaway where they could do as they pleased. All of Kendall's grandparents were deceased, Brenda and Chris were only children. Kendall had never been enveloped in a large, sprawling clan, other than his teammates. But even those bonds were sketchy; if he wasn't leaving the sport, he still wouldn't see any of them until spring.

They were thrown together for months on end, then scattered, much like his family, who now only got together on holidays. Kendall would spend Christmas here, then take off for Casey's ranch, and then.... His life had been cycles of extreme togetherness, then a detached sense of tribal associations. Years had been spent in the warm California sun, in wide-open spaces, even if freeways were clogged. Vast green lawns had been traversed, but no roots ever settled. His heartbeat quickened at that notion, the inner flame sparking. He smiled, then approached his parents. "I'm gonna shower, then run some errands."

Brenda looked up. "All right. Will you be here for dinner?"

"Sure."

"Are you staying with us another night?" Chris asked, setting the tablet in his lap.

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, this's your home." Brenda chuckled, then picked up the tablet. "I'll look for something different to make. Or is there something special you'd like?"

Family favorites were the ordinary; spaghetti, meatloaf, stir fry's. "Make what you and Dad want. I'll be happy with whatever."

Brenda smiled, then scrolled along the tablet, catching her husband's attention. "All right, let's see...."

Their gentle banter sent Kendall into his room as if he was again just a teenager.

Kendall stopped at Natalie's, how he now thought of the house. He gathered more clothes, making mental notes of what remained. Not much; music and books were on his computer and tablet, waiting back in his old room. Kendall had no permanent residence; this stunning dwelling had been someplace to lay his head, no more lasting than the hotel rooms he slept in while on the road. He gazed at the terrace, appearing like a movie backdrop, then he glanced around the living room. She hadn't bothered with the Christmas decorations. No trace of him remained, like he had disappeared.

He called Casey from there, then left Natalie a note, that he had taken a few more things. She would call him later, then he would arrange to get the rest. Not that there was much, but he couldn't get a closet-full of clothes into the back seat of his convertible. He would need the Golf for that chore.

Kendall sped along relatively quiet freeways, then arrived at Casey's gated community. He punched in the code that Casey had provided, then drove up the short hill, parking in front of the Alspach residence. Every house was immaculately presented, several with Christmas decorations ranging from dangling icicle lights to ornate displays. In bright sunshine, Kendall wondered if perhaps everyone had gotten the date wrong; was it actually December? Again he was dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and old sandals. It could be any time of year, as if Kendall had stepped into an alternate universe were sport no longer mattered. What did matter, Kendall needed to know.

He knocked on the front door and Casey let him in. "Melissa went shopping with girlfriends," he smiled. "Want some iced tea?"

"Sure." Kendall noticed that even if the couple was leaving for their ranch, Melissa had strewn lights and garland over the banister. "She need something to do?" he asked, pointing to the stairs.

Casey chuckled. "Said it wouldn't be Christmas without a few decorations." He inhaled, then looked around. "You wanna sit in here or...."

Kendall grabbed a stool at the kitchen counter, which was jade granite. State of the art appliances meshed with handcrafted maple cabinets, a huge six-burner stove in the corner, with another oven built into the island. "Case, where're you and Melissa gonna settle, I mean, permanently?"

"Here, until I can't kick a ball anymore."

Kendall nodded. "What's the ranch for?"

"Oh, just a place to get away. I mean, gotta put the money into something, you know."

"But are you guys gonna stay in San Diego, for good?"

"Probably. Worse places to live, but for now...." Casey sipped his tea, then set the glass near the sink. The counter separated them, but Casey walked to where Kendall sat. "Man, what's wrong?"

"I lied to you the other day. Natalie and I, we're...."

"Oh shit, I knew it! Well, Mel knew it. She said you guys'd had a fight and...."

Kendall shook his head. "No, it wasn't anything like that. I just don't love her anymore, I mean...."

It's just starting to make sense, Kendall thought, looking at Casey, who also wore a t-shirt and shorts, and again was barefoot. But Casey Alspach was married, and trying to make a family. He lived in a large house, but it was a real home, like where Kendall had grown up. Yet maybe Casey and Melissa wouldn't be like Chris and Brenda. Perhaps they would have an unruly mob for offspring, but it was the sense of family, of solidity. Kendall sighed. He and Natalie had never talked about children.

But was that enough to fill the enormous chasm within Kendall's heart? "Case, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. But are things with Natalie really over?"

Kendall nodded. "Yeah, they really are. But she's been feeling it too." Kendall took another drink, then cracked his knuckles. "You and Melissa, did you always know you wanted kids?"

Casey grinned. "I've got four brothers, she has three sisters. You know, maybe that makes waiting even harder. We grew up in big families, just expected...."

He continued, but Kendall stopped listening. Instead he gazed at the surroundings; it wasn't merely garland and lights along the banister, but snow globes and Santas, reindeer and sleighs. He stood, Casey still yammering in the background. Kendall spotted all kinds of holiday figurines, everything but a tree. Then he laughed to himself. All this couple needed was the baby.

He turned back to Casey, who wore a sly grin. "So Kenny, what's the last thing I said?"

"Something about you were expecting something."

Casey laughed. "Yeah, didn't think you were listening. She really went to town the last couple of nights. Said it was more fun than packing for the ranch."

"She did a great job in here, it's beautiful." Homey and warm, it reached into Kendall, rekindling something more than what sport provided. Was a family what he needed?

"Well, I'll tell her. She assumed no one but her girlfriends were gonna see it. She'll be glad you liked it."

"Yeah, it's perfect." Kendall smiled, then faced his friend. "So when are you guys taking off?"

"Day after tomorrow. And you're coming on...."

Kendall chuckled. "A day or two after New Year's. Let you guys really get your ya-ya's out."

"Yeah, I hope." Casey looked around the living room. "You know, I've been thinking about stuff. Seems weird that you're not gonna be there in spring. Wilson called me, Trevor too. The team won't be the same, but you know, we're not gonna be doing this forever. Maybe it's good that by the time Mel and I do hopefully have kids, I'll be around, won't miss anything."

"Maybe that's all it's about. Better to be here when they're little, you know."

Casey shook out his shoulders, then flung his head from side to side. "Kenny, if you don't come back, I mean...."

"Hey man, don't say it like that." Kendall shivered; I don't know what will happen, but at least this is real.

"No, I was just gonna say that it's been a good ride, I mean, shit. Two straight titles, that's a helluva run." Casey smiled. "We're never gonna be in a World Cup final, probably won't make an Olympic final either. But every day another kid sees soccer in a new light. Maybe that's all we're here to do. We're never gonna be as big as the NFL," and Casey laughed. "But it still matters, it means something."

"Herm said that to me, when I told him. Said that neither me or Beckham would play in a World Cup final."

"Man, no shit." Casey smiled. "Hell, if David Beckham can't get his hands on that trophy, what am I complaining about?"

But Beckham has a family, Kendall considered. "Yeah, puts things in perspective."

"Sure as hell does."

Kendall took one more look at Melissa's handiwork. Natalie's idea of decorating was more stylized, but before, Kendall had never noticed the difference. Their past attempts were a contemporary way to present the holiday. This was kitschy in comparison, but felt authentic. Kendall's heart thumped with that notion, the flame rising. Then he closed his eyes. Maybe it was more than just sports fatigue. His whole life needed an overhaul.

"So, we'll see you sometime in January." Casey patted Kendall's back. "Can't wait to kick the ball around."

Kendall smiled, then walked to the counter. He finished his tea, then gazed around once more. "I'm still not coming back next year."

"I know, just teasing. Maybe I'll teach you to ride a horse. You ever ridden before?"

"A few times, in Madrid."

"Really?"

Kendall nodded. "Yeah, just something to do." He gathered his keys and wallet. Then he grabbed his phone, but didn't check for messages. Too many other ideas needed consideration. "Let me know when you get there, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll text you. Make sure you're still coming. Mel was pretty upset that you were leaving the team, but if I tell her we'll see you in January." Then Casey sighed. "She was hoping it'd be you and Natalie."

Not in a million years, Kendall realized. Or not like this. And this is something I want, well, I want a home, not just a place to stand and stare at the ocean. I want.... It's so close I can almost put my finger on it. I want a wife and kids, my God, do I really? Kendall had reached the door, but took one more look at the banister. Lights sparkled against gold garland like a childhood fantasy, and Kendall smiled at Casey, then gave him a hug. "Listen, just tell her it was mutual. And have a really great Christmas."

Casey pulled away, then nodded. "You too man. You gonna be here?"

"At my folks." Although, I still need someplace to kill a few weeks between now and the ranch, Kendall smiled to himself. "Drive safe okay?"

"Yeah, got the Tahoe. She'll have it filled with all kinds of crap, gonna weigh a ton."

"Good, that's good." They shook hands again, then Kendall motioned for more. Casey smiled, offering another hug.

As Casey opened the door, Kendall fought the urge to gaze at the house; that was Casey and Melissa's life. Kendall had taken inspiration from it, but would need to forge his own dream. But at least now I think I might have a clue, he smiled, walking to his car, glimpsing at Christmas spread all down the street. Then he turned, finding Casey in his doorway, waving. He looked funny in shorts and another old t-shirt, like a kid pretending to own a castle. But Casey was just a year younger than Kendall, had been married to Melissa for four years. Kendall waved, got into the Benz, making a three-point-turn in front of Casey's house. Then he drove away, still imagining Casey waving from his front door.

Kendall thought about that image while talking to Natalie, scheduling an afternoon for him to collect the rest of his things. He considered Casey when that man texted that he and Melissa were at the ranch, waiting for Kendall to arrive. Kendall even mentioned it to Wilson and Trevor, saying goodbye to them, as the rest of the team departed for their off season breaks. Both Wilson and Trevor told Kendall to visit them after his Central Valley sojourn.

He promised he would, better than jetting across the rest of the world, having to avoid reporters who wondered if his days playing for an American club were at an end. Herm had been right; no one believed a thing Kendall said, so after giving one short interview to ESPN, that no, he wasn't planning to play for any team but San Diego, he didn't answer requests for further comment. He did move from his parents' house into a hotel, much to their displeasure. Brenda thought it silly, but Kendall needed space.

A week out from Christmas, he had a tentative plan; he would leave the Benz in his folks' garage, driving the Golf to Bakersfield. What he hadn't taken to the hotel would remain in his old room, and after a winter spent visiting with Casey, Wilson, and Trevor, then Kendall would make some decisions. Perhaps he would then flit overseas, once American soccer was in swing, European squads too far into their seasons to pester him. Sandy Schulman still called almost daily, begging Kendall to change his mind. Several foreign clubs would kill for his services, but Kendall was adamant. No sport for another year.

He spent a day with Brendan, hearing major league aspirations while shopping for presents. Neither brother was mobbed, although some fans sought Kendall's autograph, even a few asking for Brendan's signature. They stopped at Kendall's hotel, but were expected at their parents' for dinner. Even Lindsay was coming, off for the rest of the month. Kendall considered calling Natalie; they hadn't been in touch since he officially moved out, but he thought of her, hard not to, probably due to the time of year. And that Casey standing in his doorway still hadn't left Kendall's mind.

He wasn't sure he wanted that sort of house, then he smiled to himself. Who was he kidding? He would never get far from California, from San Diego. There was the small matter of finding a girlfriend, but Kendall wasn't ready to jump into a new relationship. That he still considered Natalie spoke volumes; maybe they would patch things up, maybe she might be the sort of woman who wanted a family. She wasn't Melissa Alspach, but then Kendall wasn't Casey, even if they dressed the same and played soccer. Casey's heart was still in that pastime. Kendall didn't feel called to it at all.

"Hey, your phone's flashing," Brendan said, sitting on the bed.

Kendall stepped from the large closet, empty except for a few shirts. "You can answer it."

Brendan shook his head. "It's Natalie."

Kendall stared at his brother; short brown hair, strong jaw, beefier build. Both were athletes, but their chosen fields required different strengths. Brendan had batted almost .300 that year, and it showed in his wide chest and rippled arms. "Oh come on," Kendall teased. "She'd probably rather talk to you anyway."

Brendan rolled his eyes, then picked up the device. "Hello?" He was quiet, then cleared his throat. Kendall stared at his brother, who then met his gaze. Brendan's face was pale, his eyes huge.

"What?" Kendall said, stepping to the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Here, I'll give the phone to him." Brendan passed the phone to Kendall. "It's, oh Jesus."

Kendall cleared his throat. "Natalie, what's wrong?"

Her words were like knives, and Kendall flopped to the edge of the queen mattress. "Oh my God, no. No way Natalie, no way."

Her words alternated with broken sobs as Brendan pulled out his phone. They needed proof; Natalie had to be wrong, she had to be.

She was still speaking, and crying, as Brendan shoved his phone into Kendall's hand. The headline screamed the same gut-wrenching information: just hours ago FC San Diego forward Casey Alspach had been killed in a car accident outside of Bakersfield, California. Preliminary reports suggested he had been hit by another vehicle, and one arrest had been made. Kendall blankly stared at the screen, Natalie's tears an eerie soundtrack verifying her previous words, that Casey was dead.

Kendall swallowed a mouthful of bile, then stood, dropping his brother's phone to the floor. "Where are you Natalie?"

Brendan picked up the phone as Kendall stalked around the room. "All right," he said in choked whisper. "Just stay there, I'll come get you. No, I don't want you driving. Just stay put. Yeah, okay, I'll be right there."

He hung up, then gripped the phone, wishing to crush it. Then he closed his eyes, trying to shut out Casey standing in that doorway. Casey had just been there, in San Diego. Now he was.... Kendall looked at Brendan, who blinked away tears. "Listen, I gotta go get her. I'll meet you at the folks, okay?"

Brendan stood, then grabbed Kendall, who gripped him, the phone falling from Kendall's grasp. "Oh my God Kenny, I'm so sorry man, I am so sorry!"

Kendall was glad for the embrace, otherwise he wasn't sure if he felt anything at all. His chest seemed hollow, that small flame doused by a black crashing wave. Casey was dead, probably hit by a drunk driver. A goddamn drunken asshole had stolen Kendall's best friend, Melissa's husband.... Melissa! Kendall pulled away from his brother, then reached for his phone. Then he swore. He only had Casey's number.

The photo of a smiling blonde filled the screen, but the picture wasn't any more real than the image in Kendall's head. Casey was gone, Melissa's husband was dead. "Brendan, go on. Tell Mom and Dad, if they haven't already heard, and that Natalie'll be coming back with me." Casey's dead, what the hell?

"Can you drive?" Brendan asked softly. "I can take you over there to get her."

Kendall shook his head. Casey had been killed, but Kendall had the Benz. Had Casey been driving their Tahoe? How could anyone die in goddamn hulk of an SUV? "I'll be fine. Just go home, but text me when you get there. I'll text you from Natalie's, okay?"

Brendan wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Yeah, sure. Just drive safe, okay?"

Kendall nodded, those words bouncing inside his body. Nothing else remained but those words. Drive safe, what he had said to Casey. Getting out of San Diego had been the intent. But he had died in Bakersfield. Casey Alspach was dead.

### Chapter 5

Three days before Christmas, teammates hoisted Casey Alspach's casket from the back of a long black sedan. Trevor and Wilson flanked Kendall on one side, along with others from FC San Diego, bearing Casey's remains to where he would be buried in a Bakersfield cemetery. Kendall wore dark glasses, the sunny day and his bloodshot eyes demanding that sort of protection. The weather was mild, like it was the middle of summer, or spring, or autumn. Kendall hadn't noted any sense of time from the moment he gripped Natalie in the foyer of her house. It was still her house, even if that night they had slept together in her bed.

He hadn't been back to his hotel since the news broke, but sex with Natalie wasn't any more real than where he stood, near rollers at the gravesite. Melissa's tears rang in his head; Kendall had tried to assuage her grief, but it was so complete, it had become a part of him. Or maybe it was what he felt, but easier to say it was Melissa's heartache, or belonging to Casey's parents or brothers. But after those closest to the dead man, perhaps Kendall ached the most. He wasn't sure; he had never lost anyone before.

He had always been on the winning side, perpetually successful. Behind those dark shades, Kendall blinked away tears, then followed Trevor in front of him, releasing a burden that remained after the coffin no long sat on his shoulders. Then Wilson led Kendall to where the rest of the team stood, all dressed in black. Bright green and yellow armbands were affixed to each sleeve, San Diego's colors, some sign of solidarity, of shared turmoil. They had just said _goodbye_ to each other, Kendall's the most definite _so-long_. But that was a farce compared to where they now congregated, deep heaving sorrow suffocating a vast crowd of relatives and friends. Fans edged the grounds, as if this was a soccer pitch. If Kendall squinted, he could make that out, green lawn that went forever, blue sky like a summer in San Diego. Then he glanced at those seated, Melissa in a black dress surrounded by her sisters who were similarly attired. Casey's parents and brothers looked the same, their red, worn countenances in utter disbelief. Driving an old Honda kept at the ranch, Casey had been blindsided by a drunk. The only soothing detail was that in all probability, Casey had never felt a thing.

Kendall assumed if that was true, then every person at that cemetery was now inundated with one man's momentary agony. One had been lost, but what resulted were the most abysmal spasms of grief ever considered. Kendall spied Natalie, sitting with Wilson's wife Delia. Trevor's wife had stayed in Georgia, too pregnant and distraught to travel. Natalie and Delia wept in each other's arms, but Kendall remained stoic. Yet he wanted to get drunk that night, forget about himself, Casey, and Christmas. Nothing meant anything now.

He didn't hear the pastor's words, only the immutable roar of sorrow. Melissa softly called Casey's name as if he might thrust open the casket's lid, then shake himself like prepping for a game. Kendall hadn't seen the body, but Melissa had, she'd needed absolute proof that her husband was dead. She told Kendall this last night, in her parents' living room there in Bakersfield. Her hands had shaken as she spoke, her voice trembling. Kendall hadn't looked into her eyes, couldn't take much more than her words. Casey was dead, no matter how much they loved him or what anyone would give to bring him back. Unsaid was her hope that she was carrying his baby. Kendall knew that, everyone did.

If she was, maybe one day they might put this aside. Kendall wasn't sure if that was even possible, although he suspected it must be. People died every day and the world didn't come to a grinding halt. But how, when; in what matter was loss absorbed? How in the hell was this supposed to make any kind of sense?

Kendall looked around; this wasn't a soccer pitch, it was a graveyard. Headstones jutted from the ground, some with fresh flowers, or new plastic arrangements, but many were lone concrete slabs interrupting the otherwise seamless emerald lawn. Some trees acted as buffers like this was a field, if not for sport, then for agriculture, but reality was cold and brutal, like Melissa's weary voice. Kendall could pick out her tears over so many others, as they sounded solitary. He felt sick. She probably wasn't pregnant, wouldn't even have Casey's baby to sustain her. He had died, most likely leaving no one behind other than his shattered wife, devastated family, and bewildered friends. Casey Michael Alspach had vanished on a bitter, frigid wind.

Even if his battered body lay in that coffin, it meant nothing. This gathering meant nothing. Kendall and everyone else would walk away as though Casey had never existed. Trevor nudged Kendall, and Kendall looked his way. Trevor also wore sunglasses, was bowing his head. Kendall looked around, most others were gazing at the ground. Then he heard _God_ , alongside other words, spoken in a prayerful cadence. But Kendall felt no need to pretend. He stared straight ahead, Casey's casket a blight on the horizon. Kendall wanted to shove it off the edge of the earth. Then follow it into oblivion.

Instead he inhaled, Melissa's grief some thick, rank mist falling into his lungs. All of his previous queries were buried under her distress, a chilled smile almost emerging. He kept it hidden, but wanted to burst into laughter. What did life mean if Casey could be snuffed out in seconds? All of Melissa's intricate Christmas handiwork now stung like some sick sham. Was it worse because of the time of year; it was the twenty-second of December, even if it looked like late May or early September. Kendall wondered if Melissa's family would ever want to celebrate this holiday again, would Casey's? Both Wilson and Trevor would leave for their respective southern states, their young families easing this horror. But Kendall felt akin to the immediate survivors, like a black brush had forever tarnished this holiday. He gazed at Natalie, looking right at him. Just hours ago he had lain naked beside her, but it meant nothing more than physical release, for she still seemed far away, just as she had since summer. Yet, solace had been necessary, some abrupt sense of reality, but not life; reality and life were two separate entities. Reality was Casey's dead body in that elaborate container. Life hadn't found its way into Melissa. She wasn't pregnant; Kendall would bet every dollar in the bank.

Suddenly people began standing, or were idly shifting from foot to foot. It was over, small, empty murmurs wafting. Kendall gazed at Trevor but didn't see any more than dark glasses and a black suit. He turned to Wilson, viewing the same. The armbands seemed odd, as if they were trying to set the stage to how it should be. If they were all together, it should be to play a game.

Natalie grasped Kendall's hand, but her fingers were as chilled as his. She kissed his cheek, her lips cold against his skin. Or maybe I'm the one who's freezing, he thought. Herm Schlatter approached, removing his sunglasses. But Kendall kept his on.

"Are you all right?" Herm's voice was stoic. "Kendall?"

"What, oh, uh...." Kendall nodded. How am I supposed to answer that? I think I'm dead, just walking around, waiting for....

"Kendall?"

He turned to see Melissa, grasping her father's arm. She looked even smaller than usual, and Kendall shivered. "Hey, uh, Melissa."

She stumbled into his embrace, trying to speak, but sobbing instead. Kendall gripped her, attempting to shut out a bleak truth. Her world had crumbled; how were any of them supposed to collect what remained when obviously nothing waited in front of them.

She pulled away, then wiped his face, how Kendall realized he had shed some tears. "He was so excited for you to, to...." She bit her lip. "He couldn't wait for January."

January; what was supposed to happen in January? Oh I remember, I was going to drive the Golf to the Central Valley, stay at your ranch, ride a horse, then.... Kendall clasped her hands. "I was looking forward to it too."

She nodded, then again stroked his face. Her fingers were warm, but how? She leaned close, then spoke. "He loved you like a brother. He really did Kendall. He really did."

As she stood back, he nodded, but couldn't breathe. Then he smiled, as if she'd told him a joke. That's what all of this was, some elaborate ruse, one of the biggest pranks Casey could have ever pulled. Kendall looked at those near him; Herm and Trevor, Wilson and Delia, Natalie. She stood right beside him, but she didn't want kids, wasn't his girlfriend anymore. Nothing was actual, everything was....

"Kendall?"

He gazed at faces, some wearing glasses, some with red eyes, splotchy cheeks. "Yeah?" he said to no one in particular.

"Come on honey, let's go."

Natalie tugged on his hand. He nodded, didn't say _goodbye_ to anyone. Natalie led them to her BMW, where Kendall got into the passenger seat. He closed the door, didn't put on his seat belt. Natalie started the car, and they drove away, but Kendall didn't notice in which direction. All he saw were crowds of tear-stained faces, green grass, and blue sky.

They skipped the reception, going back to their hotel room. Kendall didn't want to talk to anyone; he wanted to get so drunk that all of this would be forgotten. He rarely drank, so it wouldn't take much, he said to Natalie. She didn't answer him except for a nod.

Alone he went down to the restaurant, where he saw familiar faces. He didn't speak to anyone except to order a beer. He drank it quickly, then ordered another, followed by a whiskey. By his fifth beer and unknown number of chasers, he was numb but still cold. He wanted one more, then wondered how he would get back to the room. He stood, wobbled, then felt someone grasp his hand. It was Natalie.

"Another?" she whispered.

He nodded.

She said nothing, but helped him back into his seat. Then she was gone.

He wondered if he had dreamed her presence, until she returned with two beers. He drank his, thinking about all he had seen, Melissa's words, that truth. She wasn't pregnant, and he felt nauseous. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Can you make it back to the room?"

He wasn't sure, then shook his head. "Oh Jesus...."

The next thing Kendall knew he was kneeling over a toilet, but he wasn't sure if this was a men's or women's restroom. He didn't even recognize the person behind him, but someone was speaking to him as if from the bottom of an ocean. Then Kendall felt dizzy. He vomited once more, then swooned. It was his last memory of the day.

He stirred with a sick rush, then felt around the bed. He was in a bed, but wasn't sure which bed; Natalie's, the hotel's? He wasn't at his parents' house, and not at the hotel where this had begun. Kendall hadn't been able to go back to that room, which was probably still being charged to him. He hadn't checked out, but where was he now?

"Kendall, honey? How are you?"

He squinted. "Where am I?"

"We're still in Bakersfield."

Natalie spoke softly, but even the faintest whisper was too loud. Bakersfield rang like a gong through Kendall's mind, then as a searing brand along every nerve fiber. Every part of him longed to be unconscious, or maybe dead. Casey was dead, what was the point?

"Can I have some water?" Kendall's throat was parched. He tried to open his eyes, but even that hurt. He closed them tightly, then a cup was set to his mouth.

"Just little sips, okay?"

He couldn't nod, but did as Natalie said. Cool water dribbled down the back of his throat as if catching on glass shards. Was he sitting up? Everything seemed odd. "What happened last night?"

"Trevor took you into the men's room. He said you started to collapse after you were sick. We almost took you to the hospital, but Wilson said you'd sleep it off. I guess you did."

"Not quite yet." Kendall tried opening his eyes again. Two Natalies merged into one. "Is he still dead?"

One Natalie nodded, then it was again two, as if confirming. Then it was just one, the only woman Kendall had ever loved.

But not enough, no one loved anyone enough, not even Melissa and Casey.... "I wanna leave today."

Natalie chuckled. "Yeah right."

"I can't stay here anymore." But not just here, in.... Kendall didn't want to think of the city's name where Casey would remain forever, but not alive. "I need to get outta here, outta California."

"You're not going anywhere Kendall. You're sick as a dog."

"Fuck you." He blinked, then looked around. Yes, this was their hotel room in some stupid Central Valley town. His head throbbed, his stomach rolled. Kendall ignored those ailments, then was made nearly breathless from the hollow echo within his upper torso; his heart was gone.

How did someone live without that muscle, he wondered. But I'm doing it, I truly am. He focused on his sledgehammer of a headache and that incessant nausea, better than realizing what no longer remained. "Natalie, help me up. I need a shower, then we can...."

"Kendall, what the hell? You can't even walk, much less take a shower!"

Somehow he leaned up, then scooted to the edge of the mattress. Gripping the side of the bed, he swallowed the acid bubbling up his throat. He looked up, Natalie's incredulous face making him smile, then wince. "Please. I can't stay here much longer."

If I don't leave, I'll die. Actually, if I don't get out of this fucking state, I'll start to feel it. I can't feel anything. If I thought it was bad before, that was nothing compared to now. Soccer, what's that? Family, I've never heard of it. All that matters is fleeing California and everything familiar. All I want is to black out, be numb. Get lost. Bury me right next to him. I can't take this, I can't....

Natalie knelt in front of him, stroking his face. "Kendall, please, lemme help you. I love you and...."

"If you love me, help me take a shower. Then drive me back...." Not home, he thought, just to an airport, LAX or John Wayne even, they would be the closest ones. Brendan can get my stuff from the hotel, or just forget about it. I have my keys, wallet, phone. And a tablet, I think that's in my backpack. The rest of it can go to hell, I don't give a shit anymore.

"Kendall, Christ! You're hung-over, I've never seen you so sick. Honey, please just lie down and...."

"Natalie, listen to me." He stared at her, two of her. Then back to one. "Take me to LAX. I can't stay here, and I don't just mean _here_. I mean...." Bile edged northward, but he cleared his throat, shoving it back into his gut. "I need to leave everything. I can't _be here_ anymore."

Her palm was warm against his cheek. "Honey, I know this's horrible, but you're sick, you're...."

"Fucked. I'm fucked, Melissa's really fucked. Nothing makes any fucking sense. I can't stay here Natalie. I cannot stay here another goddamned day."

He didn't care what his parents said, or his siblings. Or what this woman would say, plenty, he could see, as tears fell down her face. Christmas was now two days away, it meant Melissa would still be alone and Casey would still be dead. Casey was dead, nothing meant anything. "Please Natalie, help me."

She nodded, placing both of her hands on his face. She kissed his lips, then stood, hoisting him as he had hefted Casey's coffin. Then she took him into the bathroom, starting the shower. By the time it was ready, she was naked, so was Kendall. She stood beside him under the water as he threw up acidic bile. Natalie used her foot to push it toward the drain. Kendall was sure he saw his heart within it, then all of it was washed away.

They arrived in Los Angeles late in the afternoon. During the drive Natalie quietly argued her point, but Kendall was adamant; he had to leave, wasn't sure to where, but any place was preferable. Traffic around LAX was stopped; as they inched toward the airport, Natalie again pleaded with him to remain there, at least until after Christmas. Kendall refused.

When they reached the departures terminal, Kendall gripped her hand. "Listen, I'll text my family. Don't worry about it, okay?"

She stared at the steering wheel, then at him. "You can't do this, you just can't."

"I can't do anything else." Nothing matters, how do I make you understand, he wanted to say, but his empty rib cage ached too badly to speak any more.

She sighed, then put on her parking lights. "Where're you gonna go?"

He looked at the curb, a flurry of people and luggage. "I dunno. Somewhere warm. I feel so cold."

She grasped his hand, giving it a ferocious squeeze. He stared at their fingers. He could see the effort, but barely felt it. "Natalie, thanks for the ride."

He was still nauseous, a vice-like grip overpowering his brain. Inside his chest a hollow plod resounded, as if Natalie's fears were settling where his heart had been. But there was nothing to worry about, he wasn't there. I'm back in that cemetery, or looking at Casey, standing in his doorway. I'll never forget him standing there, in a t-shirt and shorts, bare feet, looking like a beach bum. That's all he was, he wasn't a soccer player or a husband, and he sure as hell wasn't anyone's father. And now he's dead. He's dead, we're all going to die. Nothing means anything, there's no purpose, no reason, no....

"Hey! Move along, huh?"

A security guard rapped on the BMW's window, near Kendall's face. Kendall glared at the man, then swung the passenger door wide open. "I'll move along when I'm goddamn good and ready to, asshole."

Passersby froze as Kendall swaggered out of the car. He slammed the door, then opened the back passenger door, grabbing his suitcase and backpack. He slammed that door with even more force, then scowled at the guard, who had recognized him. "Oh, Mr. Schultz, I'm sorry, I didn't realize...."

"You didn't realize a goddamn thing until you knew who I was. Yeah, well, fuck you!" Kendall pointed a finger toward the man's chest. "You think you know so goddamn much, you don't know jack shit. And have a really merry fucking Christmas too!"

Kendall didn't look back at Natalie's car, or make eye contact with anyone. He strode into the terminal, feeling sick to his stomach, the worst headache in the world gnawing at the back of his brain. Yet he walked with long strides to the nearest desk, didn't even see which airline. All he noted was _First Class Travelers_. He chose that lane, rummaging through his bag for his passport. Why he'd been smart enough to take it to.... He swallowed, acid nearly reaching his mouth. The passport sat near the bottom, then he gripped it. Anywhere in the world was preferable to Southern California.

Three hours later he was on a plane, seated in first class, a beer in hand. He sipped it slowly, it took off the edge. He had texted his parents and siblings, also Natalie. It seemed he was on his way to Hong Kong, a city he had never visited, but they spoke English there, that was good. He could have chosen anywhere in South America, but didn't want to see Christmas decorations. Hong Kong seemed a safe bet.

He would buy clothes once he had somewhere to stay. Brendan had texted that he and Lindsay would collect all of Kendall's things from the San Diego hotel. The Benz was in their parents' garage and the Golf was parked in front of their house. Kendall's dad had an extra set of keys for both cars; Kendall didn't have to worry about a thing.

He smiled, then drank his beer. His stomach had calmed once he buckled his safety belt, and as soon as they were in the air, he expected his headache would disappear. He wasn't sure how he might feel after that, hopefully he would just fall asleep. The only concern was once he landed, in another country; might he miss his heart? It was buried back in.... He grimaced. He never wanted to step foot in the central part of California again, didn't wish to be in San Diego either. Everything he had spent his life building held no significance. Sport was stupid. Love was too. Families weren't any more lasting than the next drunk on the highway. Kendall smiled, then finished his beer. He wanted to be drunk again, but wouldn't get behind the wheel. He would let others do the driving, the flying, the thinking. As the captain asked the flight attendants to take their seats, Kendall closed his eyes, but images behind his eyelids made him woozy; flashing lights and sparkly garland, Casey's bright smile in the doorway. Melissa's Christmas decorations bounced inside Kendall's empty chest. Biting his lower lip, he willed himself to sleep. In slumber, nothing hurt at all.

### Chapter 6

In March, as the season began, Kendall was in Portugal, drowning his sorrows in a Lisbon hotel with a very beautiful woman with whom he did not have sex, but slept with for six straight nights. Initially she was confused by his lack of passion, but was pleased for his attention, lavished at various fashion boutiques and nightspots. Until Kendall got drunk, he was fast on his feet and very charming. But every night he needed several alcoholic beverages to go to sleep. This practical woman, Ana, made sure they got back to his room, then provided motherly comfort until he fell unconscious, sometimes calling for a Natalie, a Melissa, a Casey. Ana wasn't the only one to assume Casey was another female.

In May, as Kendall turned thirty-one, he celebrated in Seoul, watching FC San Diego lose yet another game. Without their star forwards, the team was near the bottom of the rankings, and he watched as many matches as was possible. He was oddly unemotional during these games, but those with whom he congregated knew his history. Outside of America, most football fans hadn't missed how Kendall Schultz walked away from FCSD, followed by the permanent departure of Casey Alspach. The team's fall from grace wasn't due to Kendall alone; Trevor and Wilson were having awful years, no one could concentrate. Herm Schlatter's job wasn't on the line, but after two straight title-winning seasons, San Diego found it a hard pill to swallow. Kendall wasn't approached to return, it was just an unfortunate combination of events. Sometimes shit happens, Herm sighed privately. Publically, he said nothing about Kendall Schultz.

In summer, Kendall traipsed around Europe, watching some live matches. He slept, but did not have sexual relations, with a variety of women, all who enjoyed his extravagant gratitude. Many spoke of wild outings beyond discos and shopping, and Kendall never tried to refute them. He didn't care what anyone thought, not even his parents. Brendan asked when Kendall was coming home. Kendall responded with a simple: _I dunno_.

In September, Kendall was spotted in Moscow, Kiev, and St. Petersburg. In October, he paused in Tokyo, then hopped to Christchurch, then on to Brisbane. He spent three weeks in the Australian Outback, his travels charted on a _Where's Kendall Now?_ website. But as November came to a close, he disappeared. Natalie received one text on Thanksgiving, that of a smiley face. She spent that holiday with his family, his absence a glaring hole.

In December, on the night of the MLS final between the San Jose Earthquakes and the Houston Dynamos, Wilson Givens relaxed in his sunken living room, his oldest son Marcus on his left, younger son Troy on his right. Delia flanked Troy, but she was six months pregnant, and Troy scooted closer to his father, little room to snuggle with his mother. The family's Christmas tree wasn't up; if not for the residual gloom of San Diego's poor season, Wilson would have already bought the tree, helping his wife decorate the house. But it wasn't just that Wilson had been in Montgomery since late October, no playoffs to participate in, or that Delia was overly fatigued by her third pregnancy. The baby was a girl, which boosted a couple's joy. They had needed all the assistance necessary, as the anniversary of Casey's death loomed.

Wilson halfheartedly watched the game while glancing at his wife. Delia looked more than tired. They hadn't planned on this baby, but Melissa had been so happy for them. She was still in Bakersfield, living with one of her sisters, and was trying to decide what to do. She was alone, the ranch sold, as well as the San Diego house. Sometimes Wilson had driven past it when visiting another FCSD player who lived in that gated community.

"Daddy, are you gonna be in this game next year?" Marcus asked, snuggling beside his father.

"Who knows?"

"I wanna play soccer when I grow up." Marcus crossed his arms. He was five, Troy was three. "Can the new baby play with me?"

Delia had a soft chuckle and Wilson gave a tired sigh. "She can play on her own team, but not with you."

"Well that's not fair."

"You're absolutely right," Delia smiled.

Wilson rolled his eyes. Having a daughter might not have been a consideration, but Delia was looking forward to breaking up the overwhelming male presence. As the first half ended, Wilson moved Marcus onto the couch, then stood. He looked at Troy, who tried to find room on his mother's vanishing lap. "Son, you need to pee?"

"Oh, uh-huh." Troy squirmed off the sofa and Wilson grasped his small hand.

"Thanks," Delia said.

Wilson nodded.

In the house bathroom, a small potty chair sat across from the toilet; Troy used that while his father urinated, both sitting down. Marcus liked to stand, but sometimes missed the bowl, and Delia complained. Maybe it's good we're having a girl, Wilson smiled, helping Troy wash his hands. Then he thought about the last time he had seen Melissa Alspach, in June, at a special pregame ceremony; Casey's number was retired on what would have been his thirtieth birthday. Wilson had pleaded with Kendall to be there, but all Wilson had gotten was one text, telling them good luck. Good luck, Wilson now considered. Melissa had worn a navy dress, accentuating her slim figure, while the team sported black arm bands. They had worn those bands all year, maybe that hadn't helped anyone. As Troy ran back to the living room, shouting his achievement, all Wilson could see was a team dressed in black, bright yellow and green along each sleeve. That day had been the last time Wilson Givens had seen Kendall Schultz.

He followed that website, half in disgust, half in curiosity, hoping that Kendall would pull his head out. Daily Wilson prayed for his former teammate; a year after Kendall quit and Casey died, Wilson could think of those men with little lasting pain. Sometimes Casey was even easier to consider; he was in a far better place than Kendall was.

Wilson rarely considered Casey's widow. When Delia's pregnancy made the news, Melissa had contacted them. The baby was due at the start of the season, but Delia was going to have their daughter in Alabama. Marcus was in kindergarten, Troy enrolled at their church's preschool. Wilson would live in San Diego by himself until summer.

He wasn't looking forward to that at all, wasn't sure how many more years he wanted to play. Delia hadn't minded living in California before, but the boys had been tiny, and it was a nice change. Now she was a momma, and he smiled. Troy had managed to squeeze himself onto her lap, but Delia looked uncomfortable. "Someone squawking?" Wilson asked.

Delia sighed, then smiled. "Baby doesn't like it."

Troy looked at his mother's large belly. "Well, she needs to share."

Marcus laughed, and Wilson did too. "You tell her son. All right Marcus, what'd I miss?"

Just as Wilson sat with his family, the doorbell rang. Delia looked at her husband. "Who could that be?"

Wilson shrugged. "Maybe your mother, coming over here to straighten out baby sister."

Troy and Marcus hooted as Delia smirked. "Go answer the door."

Wilson glanced at the TV, the second half having begun. Not that it mattered, he didn't even care who won. The living room was at the back of the two-story brick home on an expansive lot. Wilson Givens was probably the only professional soccer player in Montgomery, but he'd been born here, would die in the south. He would live in California alone for much of next season, but.... He opened the door, then his jaw dropped. "Kenny, shit!"

"Hey, uh, not a bad time is it?"

Wilson gaped at his friend and former teammate who looked nothing like his previous self; Kendall's hair was shorn, he had gained at least twenty pounds, probably from all the drinking. His brown eyes were rimmed in yellow, definitely from the drinking, Wilson sighed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He stood back as Kendall stepped into the foyer. Kendall glanced around, then stared at Wilson. "Just thought I'd see if you were watching the match."

"My good God." Wilson couldn't decide what was worse, Kendall's yellow eyes, his nearly bare scalp, or his paunch and puffed jowls. "You look like something from the backwoods."

"Poor white trash?" Kendall laughed.

"Very poor white trash," Wilson chuckled.

"Well good, trying to keep a low profile. Got tired of those bastards charting my every move."

"Wilson, who is it?" Delia called.

"Don't tell her," Kendall whispered, then smiled. "Lemme surprise her."

Wilson shook his head. "Hey Kenny, we're, she's, I gotta tell you something."

Delia held Troy's hand, but the little boy backed away from the strange man standing beside his father. Delia looked at her son, then to the men. Then she stopped in the middle of the hallway, ten feet from where Wilson tried to keep Kendall on his feet. "Kenny, we're, Delia's...."

Kendall nodded, then fell into Wilson's grasp. Delia sent Troy back to the living room, then joined her husband, who bolstered Kendall's shaking frame.

An hour later, the boys were in bed, still uncertain about the odd man who seemed to know their daddy very well. Delia had tried to explain who Kendall was, but they didn't remember him, and if they had, now he was a stranger who sat between their parents on the sofa. Kendall had one hand on Delia's belly, the other gripped by Wilson. "Hope I didn't scare your boys too much."

"No man, they'll be better in the morning." Wilson wished he could have broken this news in person, then was surprised that Kendall didn't know. Or maybe Kendall had only followed the team's record, not any personal details. The only point Kendall seemed aware of was that Melissa hadn't been pregnant before Casey died. Yet, he seemed pleased for Wilson and Delia, as if they were compensating.

Delia set her hand on Kendall's, the baby moving under their palms. Kendall laughed, then sighed. "A girl huh? Well, she's gonna change the balance of this household."

"That's what I keep telling them." Delia's voice was light, then she sniffled. "Listen, she might be awake, but I'm pooped." She edged herself from the sofa as Kendall moved his hand. Wilson stood, then helped his wife to her feet. She kissed him, then smiled at Kendall. "I'll see you in the morning, right?"

He looked up. "Absolutely."

She nodded, then walked away. Wilson followed her to the edge of the living room, but Delia said _goodnight_ to her husband there.

Kendall couldn't take his eyes from Delia's large form. Had they planned it or was it some fluke? He wanted to ask, but said nothing as Wilson sat beside him.

"Kenny listen, if you're tired, we can pick things up in the morning."

Kendall nodded, but didn't feel at all sleepy. He had flown into Atlanta, then rented a car, driving straight to Montgomery. He had considered seeing Trevor and his family first, but hadn't wanted to be around a baby. Trevor's wife had given birth to a daughter just months after.... After Casey died, Kendall forced into his head. But Wilson and Delia's boys weren't tiny, this family had seemed safe. Maybe they still were. "When's she due?" Kendall asked.

"March, just when I get busy."

Kendall nodded. "Are they going out there?"

"Not till summer. Marcus's in kindergarten this year. We're sorta set now, this's home base."

Kendall had asked Casey similar questions that last afternoon, at the San Diego house. That last day spent with Casey Alspach was never far from Kendall's mind, sometimes played in a loop as an endless but unwanted souvenir. Casey standing in the doorway in shorts and an old t-shirt; Kendall shut his eyes. Even with all he had drunk and all the places visited, all the autographs signed, women in his bed.... He smiled. "Wilson, if I told you I'd been a monk all year, would you believe me?"

Wilson stared for a second, then sputtered, rubbing his hand over Kendall's nearly bald head. "You sure look like one, Friar Schultz."

"I was. Never did more than sleep with them." He sighed, patting his not-so-small gut. "Fat Friar Schultz." He sighed, then stood. "House looks pretty...."

"Just haven't been in the mood yet. Boys are starting to get on my case though. We'll probably get a tree this week."

Kendall nodded. Then he faced Wilson. "How is she?"

He didn't mean Delia, who looked as beautiful as when she was pregnant with the couple's boys. Kendall hadn't given any consideration to family, surrounding himself with those single and trying to keep it that way, no matter how it might look to anyone outside their circle. None of those women actually wanted him; they wanted his money, a moment. Adding it all up, Kendall felt as empty as when he had staggered out of Natalie's car at LAX. He looked very different on the outside. Inwardly, he was just as hollow.

And he had a headache, maybe he needed to sleep. He wanted a drink, that would hasten slumber, but he was also aware of a growing dependence upon alcohol, and he didn't like it. The last two days he'd had nothing but water and soda. A niggling ache unconnected to Casey had chased Kendall, and he wanted to stamp out that small fire before it engulfed him.

He didn't want to become an alcoholic, although at times it didn't seem any worse of a condition than what Kendall had been living with since December twenty-second. Since Casey's funeral, Kendall Schultz was a walking lab specimen; he had no heart. There had been no reason to have sex with all those women, what was the point if he couldn't feel it? His year as a playboy hadn't been more than a way to pass time, to kill it. He wanted to kill something, and occasionally it had been himself. A few of those women had literally kept him alive; Ana in Portugal had stayed with him the longest, and he had poured out his misery in a mixture of Spanish, English, and very broken Portuguese. She had nearly edged her way into him, brown eyes, a full mouth, and large breasts, but he hadn't done any more than kiss her lips, then cry in her lap. She hadn't reminded him of Natalie, whose cool, sophisticated beauty he had then sought. All the rest were like his ex-girlfriend, blondes real or fake, always slim and stylish. Kendall wondered if the website had noted that all the women he'd surrounded himself with were copies of Natalie. And if Natalie paid attention to that site, had she seen the similarities?

If Wilson had answered Kendall's query about Casey's wife, Kendall hadn't heard it. He stood, peering at photos on the walls, some large and professional, some small and informal. Wilson and Delia's wedding shot caught Kendall's attention, Delia's sumptuous white dress and Wilson in a gray tux; they had married here, in Montgomery. Kendall had been one of the guests.

Now Delia looked different, and it wasn't just the baby. It was marriage, motherhood, and time. Not that Delia had wrinkles, nor did Wilson, but they had two sons, and a daughter was on the way. Would Melissa have given Casey a boy or girl?

"Kenny, why don't I show you to the guest room?"

Kendall cleared his throat. "How is she?"

Wilson sighed. "She's doing okay, the last I heard. Delia gets emails from her every once in a while. She's doing all right Kenny."

No one had called him Ken or Kenny in a year. Who had done it last, Natalie maybe? How was she, he smiled to himself. He nodded at Wilson; Melissa was okay. What did that mean? Was she still as numb as Kendall, or was she actually adjusting to life without the man she had married. Kendall had been at that wedding too, again as a guest. Yet, Casey had thought of him like a brother, Melissa had said at the funeral. That day felt like moments ago, as recent to Kendall as Delia's _goodnight_.

"C'mon man, time for Friar Schultz to hit the hay." Wilson gently tugged on Kendall's arm.

"What? Oh yeah, sure. God, you're probably wanting to hit the hay yourself." Kendall followed Wilson, but he glanced back at a newly married couple, until Wilson turned off the light.

Kendall spent three days with the Givenses and by the end, both Marcus and Troy called him Uncle Kenny. Kendall then drove to Athens, Georgia, where he visited with Trevor and his wife Amanda, and their three-year-old daughter Alyssa, whom Kendall had met, and baby Caitlin, nine months old. Kendall didn't ask to hold her, but she was almost on her feet. He stayed there for two nights, then drove to the Atlanta airport, returning his car. Then he sat in the terminal, trying to decide where to go next.

Wilson hadn't asked what Kendall's plans were, neither had Trevor. It was obvious that sport wasn't a consideration, in part from how disheveled Kendall was. He had steered clear of anything alcoholic, but it hadn't been easy at Trevor's house, beers in the fridge. Yet, Kendall had been sober for.... He stared at other travelers. Not quite time to fly home for Christmas, but Thanksgiving was over two weeks ago. These people were just getting from one place to another. For nearly a year, Kendall had been doing the very same.

He had sent Brendan a text from Montgomery, mostly of the _Hey I'm still alive_ variety. He hadn't heard from Natalie in the last few months; at first she had emailed him every couple of weeks, that the Golf was in Lindsay's hands, the Benz safe in his parents' garage. He also knew that from his dad, who had written that he took it out once a week to keep the battery charged.

Otherwise as he had unplugged from them, they had distanced themselves from him. Probably to maintain their sanity, he considered, or maybe he was just a pain in the ass and not worth the trouble. But Wilson and Trevor hadn't made him feel that way, neither had their families. Marcus and Troy had almost cried when Uncle Kenny left, or Friar Schultz, as Wilson had exclusively called him. Kendall hadn't lost any weight since returning to America, but at least his hair was starting to grow out.

He rubbed his head, then pulled out his phone. No messages waited, a far cry from this time last year. He started writing to Brendan, then stopped. Could he actually go back to San Diego?

Did he want to, or was it safer to hop on a flight to Europe? Hong Kong hadn't lasted more than a few days; he had booked a ticket on a world cruise, wasn't sure where he had spent last New Year's Eve, floating around on some ocean. For the first two months of the year, Kendall had sequestered himself, just as he had wanted. Then he found himself at Sicily, but stayed on the ship until it docked in Lisbon. He disembarked there, hauling one duffel bag and his backpack. Then he started his adventures, but Ana had almost wound her way under his skin. That was the last time he had felt any semblance of humanity, with another woman. Wilson's sons and Trevor's daughters had stirred Kendall's... . Did he have a heart, a soul? Feeling Delia's tumbling fetus had nearly made Kendall shake, or perhaps he had needed a drink. But now he was over both of those sensations. If he went to California, babies wouldn't be anywhere close.

He smiled, thinking about Natalie. The week between Casey's death and funeral had thrown Kendall back into her arms and her bed. It had been _their bed_ , but by the time he slept with her, it was just hers. She had wanted him to stay, but what would have been the point? A year later, he wasn't any closer to feeling life had a purpose, at least not for himself. Maybe not for Melissa either. He didn't want to see or talk to her, but Natalie....

Would she want to see him? He could surprise her, like he did Wilson and Trevor. Maybe that might be the best way, just show up at her doorstep. If he broke his nearly year-long celibacy with Natalie.... She would believe that he hadn't had sex. Nearly with Ana, almost with Ana. But Ana wasn't Natalie, and Natalie didn't want....

Kendall stood, putting the phone in his back pocket. No one looked at him, he wasn't the same man. Maybe Natalie might think he was a bum, he sure looked like one now. If he didn't shave that day.... He smiled, rubbing his already stubbly cheek.

He approached a row of airlines, chose the first one, then bought a ticket. He was going to fly straight into San Diego, an arrival time of eight that evening. By nine he could be at Natalie's front door, which used to be his residence. Maybe it might again be _their house_ , even if her name was alone on the deed. Kendall pondered that, heading to his gate. Everything he had considered exactly one year ago was as dead as.... Kendall sat down, grasping his boarding pass. He wanted a drink; maybe he would have one beer on the flight just to calm his nerves. It had been a week, he didn't have a problem.

Or he didn't have a problem yet. And maybe alcohol would be the least of his worries, as long as he didn't have to feel anything, other than some residual pleasure. Natalie wouldn't hurt Kendall; she couldn't harm him at all.

### Chapter 7

Kendall got drunk on the flight, but by the time he reached baggage claim, he had sobered up enough to realize just where he was, and what he had done. He had stepped back into hell, why those beers had been necessary. At first it was just to ease his rolling stomach and aching head. By the second hour into the flight, Kendall couldn't deny what returning to the West Coast meant; descending into the abyss.

Due to his unruly appearance, no one approached him. He grabbed the duffel, then took his phone from his back pocket. Wilson and Trevor had texted, and he answered them; he was in SD, he wrote. He couldn't even spell out the name of his birthplace.

Too intoxicated to rent a car, he swaggered to where taxis sat, hired one, then proceeded to stare straight ahead as the driver wound around the terminal, bright lights illuminating the nearby water. San Diego's airport sat right against the Pacific, but Kendall still felt he had fallen into Satan's arms.

It wasn't the temperatures, balmy like Atlanta. It wasn't the striking downtown or San Diego's stunning night sky. It wasn't any more than the most heartless place west of Bakersfield. Bakersfield, California was the absolute pit. San Diego was its bratty cousin.

Why was that, Kendall mused, wishing for another beer. He wasn't sure how many he'd had on the plane, not enough, he smiled to himself. Maybe Natalie might have something for him, a bottle of white wine perhaps, when she felt like cooking. He ached thinking about her, both in his hollow chest and his groin. He could have sex with her, it wouldn't mean any more than what they had shared a year ago, right as they broke up, then as they barely came back together, but that hadn't been more than a Band-Aid over a gaping hole. He could still recall her helping him get a shower, he had never been that sick before, or since. She had edged his vomit into the drain, his heart near her big toe, then shoved into the holes, lost forever.

The taxi stopped, and Kendall looked out, her BMW parked in its usual space. Was she waiting for the 500 SL to come home? Instead it was a cab, and all Kendall had to do was set some bills into the man's hand. Rummaging through his backpack, he grabbed a handful. "This enough?"

The man nodded, and Kendall got out, grabbing his duffel. He was still drunk, but aware that either he had scraped up the cash, or had given the guy his whole night's pay in one fare. Kendall didn't care either way, slamming the door. A light flashed from the upstairs bedroom, facing the street. Natalie's office, Kendall smiled. Maybe she was waiting for him.

He reached the front door, rang the bell. The small yard was strewn with floodlights, those were new, but nothing else looked replaced. He could hear her footsteps, was that due to his brain back in the care of a drug that was necessary here more than anywhere else in the world? Kendall sighed; if he stayed in San Diego, he might need to be permanently numb.

He stared at the door; was she looking through the peephole? If she was smart, she'd be doing that. It was late, after nine, or at least nine. He didn't want to speak, wanted to see her shock. He had scared the crap out of Trevor's wife, but Wilson had just seemed saddened. Just open the fucking door, Kendall thought. Let's get this over with.

As those words passed through his head, the door did slowly creak, then widen. Kendall stared at Natalie, who blinked. Her hand went to her mouth, her head shook back and forth. Then she pulled him close, calling his name, telling him he was an asshole. He laughed, inhaling her scent, unchanged. Nothing about Natalie was any different, except for her small spark of anger.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm really sorry."

She continued berating him while pulling him inside. Then she let go, but immediately placed her hands on his face. "You look like utter shit," she cried. "Oh Kendall!"

He laughed, pleased for her annoyance. If she didn't care about him, she would have been disdainful, or worse, just ordered him to leave. He felt small guilt for her pain, then he wiped her tears. "Call me Friar Schultz, that's Wilson's new name for me."

She stroked his stubbled cheek. "You know about Delia then."

"I know about Delia. She looks beautiful." So do you, he thought. "And I met Caitlin Harner. She looks like Amanda, thank God."

Natalie didn't take her eyes from his, and he couldn't look away. My punishment is staring into her gorgeous face like no time has passed. Natalie nodded, as if agreeing with his sentiments on Trevor's baby, and that Kendall needed a penalty. Yet, she looked more than pained; she was deeply aggrieved. "Natalie, listen, I know it's been a year, and I look like crap and yeah, I'm drunk." He laughed. Which of those was worse on her, he wondered. "If you want me to go, no problem. I came in a cab, I'll just get another one."

I can go anywhere, it will all feel the same, just as shitty and empty as the last fucking year. He grimaced, his inward speech as raw as his chest, which throbbed with that pounding echo. Maybe he couldn't stay here; maybe he needed to become an exile. California could never be home again.

"Kendall, what've you done to yourself?"

He couldn't face her. "I'm sorry. Look, I'll just...."

Her hand rested on his face, he wasn't going anywhere. "Kendall, oh my God Kendall...."

Just kiss me, take me to bed. You can't fix it, but we can pretend, like after Casey died. You made love to me then, even if we both knew it was over. What difference will a year make? We'll just lie down and....

But she didn't try to kiss him. She cupped his jaw, her fingers not cold, or hot. Her tears weren't from passion or remorse, but from sorrow, eerie and fragmented, like she was trying to decide just what he meant. She doesn't know any more than I do, and he smiled. "Nothing changes huh. I'm still fucked-up and you're still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

She wore a strange smile, as if in half-agreement. To which part, he wondered, then chuckled. "Natalie, listen, I'm sorry. Coming over here like this, bad call. I'll get a taxi, you pretend I was a beach bum who got a little lost and knocked on the wrong door." Something's not right, he mused. I might be blitzed, but I know her, or I used to. I used to know her better than anyone else in the whole world. But that world has changed, and not just for me. "Natalie, what?"

Then she kissed him very softly on the mouth. As she pulled away, Kendall felt ripped apart. How can this night get any worse, he wondered. In a minute, I'll find out.

"You can stay here, in the guest room." She looked at the floor. Then she faced him. "I don't want you going anywhere else."

He nodded, then smiled. Not to her bed, or any other bed.

"Does he live here?" Kendall asked, although the living room revealed no additional occupant.

"He lives at the hospital," she sighed.

They sat on the sofa, little space between them. Kendall sipped water upon her insistence. "Is he _going_ to live here?"

His name was Ron, he was an intern. Natalie had noted that as she got Kendall something to drink. They had been dating just for the last couple of months; she met him at the supermarket, of all places. And he was two years younger than she was, and than Kendall was. She had said he was younger than _us_ ; Kendall hadn't liked hearing about this Ron, but at least Natalie still considered Kendall some part of her life.

I'm still a part of her, because she's holding my hand so gently, keeps looking at me like she can't believe I'm here, like I'm going to disappear again. He took a drink, then set the glass on a coaster on the coffee table. Her tablet waited there, a couple of magazines. One of them was the _Journal of the American Medical Association_ , and Kendall laughed. He picked it up with his left hand, his right still in her grasp. "What, he getting this here now, or just brought it over for reading material?"

Her lip trembled, and he winced. "Natalie, I'm sorry, that was rude." He set down the magazine, then clasped her hands. "You have every right to be happy." Does he make you happy, did I? I made the last year of your life pretty crappy. "I'm sorry Natalie. I am really sorry."

"Do you drink a lot?"

"What?" He released her hands, then cracked his knuckles.

"I followed that website, Brendan and Lindsay do too, or we did. Then it was like you fell off the face of the earth. I was never jealous, I mean, they all looked like me." She smiled, then sighed. "Right before I met Ron, I figured eventually you'd come back. I'd be here, then we'd see what happened. A part of me still loves you, maybe that part will never fade. I kept waiting for you to come home, or just not look so awful. Oh Christ Kendall!" She stood, then walked to the terrace, Christmas lights shining.

She kept her back to him, but continued. "Ron's nothing like you, except in how driven he is, but it's different, I mean...." She faced Kendall. "It's about saving lives, he wants to be an ER doctor. That's where he is right now, doing God knows what. It's so weird, because no matter where you were, I always knew what you were doing, something to do with soccer, so maybe it is the same." She had a bittersweet laugh. "I pick guys who're obsessed with what they do, maybe it takes the heat off me. Or maybe it's a mirror to me, hell, I don't know."

"How is he different?" Kendall wanted to see a photo, check if there was any chance in hell that Natalie wasn't off limits.

She shrugged. "Maybe he's not that different, I mean, he's bigger than you, I mean...." She giggled. "He's really tall and heavy-set, like a linebacker." She returned to the sofa. "He makes me feel little."

Kendall smiled.

She gripped his hand. "You've put on weight, you look like...." She blinked away tears.

"Like shit, I know."

"You do. I love you Kendall, oh my God, I really do."

"But you don't _still love me_ ," he smiled, squeezing her hand, then letting it go.

"I kept hoping you'd come home, Brendan and I talked about it a lot. He'll be really glad to see you."

She said it like a prompt, and Kendall nodded. "Don't worry, I'll get over there."

"Your folks seemed to understand, I mean...." Natalie stood again, then looked at Kendall's glass. "You need more water?"

"I don't know. What would Dr. Ron say?"

She smirked, then took the glass to the kitchen. "He wants to meet you, I mean, he's a soccer fan. Thought it was funny you and I had been together."

_Had been together_ says it all. Kendall stood. "Just need to pee. I'll be right back." He headed to the house bathroom, urinating for what felt like forever. All that beer, water, Natalie; I just pissed her away.

He washed his hands, then stared at his face. He did look like a bum. His parents would be appalled, and if he happened to run into Herm Schlatter? Oh God, he really would shit a brick. Kendall smiled, then returned to the living room. Natalie sat on the couch, the glass refilled and waiting on the coaster. Ron's magazine, however, was missing.

Kendall smiled, chugged half the water, then gazed at the coffee table. "You didn't have to hide it."

She bit her lip, then sighed. "I really wanted to wait for you. The last thing I was thinking about was someone else. Honestly."

"I didn't screw any of those women." Even if after Ana they all looked like you.

"I know."

"Yeah?"

She reached for his face, then grasped his hand instead. "Kendall, I know you, maybe more than you want." She set his palm on his chest, then by force kept it there. "I decided to go out with Ron because even if you came back, I can't give you what you want, what you really need."

A fiery pain bore down into the depths of his rib cage, traveling south, ending at the tip of his prick. He inhaled, as if enough oxygen could force it out, maybe through his pores. Only when Natalie removed her hand was he able to exhale. His palm fell to his leg, but left a mark as if searing his skin.

Silence flooded the room, engulfing him. Nothing had changed in the last year, not here in California. How long can I stay, he wondered. I need to see my parents, my brother, my sister. For one excruciating afternoon or evening we'll all sit together, pretending that nothing happened. That I'm just the same, fuck! I am not the same, I will never be the same, I....

"Kendall, I'll go with you to see your folks. They know about Ron, I accidentally bumped into them in Little Italy a couple of weeks ago. He had the day off, we were just getting lunch. They seemed pretty surprised, but then, well...."

How long can I be here, another twenty-four hours maybe? Or maybe I'll throw my phone over the terrace and chase after it. It won't make a difference; Natalie has Dr. Ron, my parents have the 500 SL. They can pretend my Mercedes is me, and everyone will be fine.

Before he could move, Natalie's arms were around him, her face next to his. "You didn't sleep with them because...." She whispered in his ear, and he flinched. But she didn't let go until she had said her piece.

Then she caressed his face, kissed his cheek. She stood, then headed to the guest room. "I'm pretty sure the bed's made. You can call them in the morning."

She didn't immediately return, giving Kendall time to reach the terrace. She knows me, but is she fully aware of how badly it hurts, how easily I could scale the railing, end everything? He gazed at the Pacific, boats brightly lit by multicolored lights, the water reflecting those reds, blues, greens, and yellows. Then he looked straight down; they were hundreds of feet from the beach, plenty of room for him to fall to his death.

He turned around. Natalie stood in the middle of the living room, watching him. If he squinted, he could see tears on her cheeks. She does know, goddamn her.

"It's all ready Kendall. I love you. See you in the morning."

He nodded, then turned back toward the rainbow ocean.

In the morning, Natalie and Kendall ate breakfast on the terrace. Ron Alderson joined them, sitting next to Natalie.

Ron was six foot five, weighing two hundred fifty pounds. In frame he looked like a football player. In movement he was a dancer, or maybe a gymnast. Kendall didn't miss how Ron's attention was focused on Natalie, and not at all in fear. He was gracious in speech and action, exhibiting an athlete's power and elegance. Jet-black hair and blue eyes reminded Kendall of Clark Kent; here at Natalie's house, Ron was the alter ego. At work, he probably was Superman.

He was just what Natalie needed, Kendall smiled, nibbling on toast. He had stirred with a hangover, Ron's tired voice tumbling alongside Natalie's soft tones as she explained who was sleeping in her guest room.

Now they sat as a quiet trio; Ron looked like slumber was only moments away. He had been on shift for many hours, but remained cordial. Maybe he senses I'm no threat, Kendall sighed inwardly. No shit I'm no threat, except to myself. Or maybe not even that; if I had wanted it to be over, I would have jumped last night. But instead I just stared at the water, seeing nothing. Nothing still matters, which sounds odd, like nothing _is_ something. It still is, I guess. Nothing is still something here.

"Well, that's it for me." Ron sat back, then stretched. "Kendall, it was a pleasure meeting you." His smile was sincere, his voice that of a fan, not a rival. Ron stood, then extended his right hand.

Kendall shook it, then grinned. "I'll probably be gone when you wake. But yeah, good to meet you." It was good, or not as tumultuous as it could have been.

Ron kissed the top of Natalie's head, but didn't say anything to her. Then he walked into the living room.

Kendall waited a couple of minutes as Natalie drank her coffee. She cleared her throat, but he spoke. "He's nice. Looks like Superman."

"I thought so too, says he gets that a lot."

"Do you love him?"

Natalie nodded without hesitation, then sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

Kendall took Ron's chair, then embraced her. "It's okay, you know. We were over, we really were."

She nodded, but didn't look up. "I didn't want us to be over." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Neither did I." And I don't now. If I could just have sex with you, I might be able to stay. Some part of me wants to remain in California, in San Diego, the part that never wants to move forward; I'd turn into a drunk, I can tell you that right now. How easy it would be to just sleep with Natalie, wandering around the beach like a bum. Maybe take the Mercedes for an occasional spin, when I could think straight, which wouldn't be often, probably once a week, just like how Dad takes it out now. Keeps the battery charged, which would be akin to my life. I'd be keeping the battery going, but for what? To fuck Natalie, get drunk one more time, stay numb? Kendall stroked her blonde hair, now well past her shoulders, then he kissed her cheek. "I still love you, I mean, I always will. But he really loves you." He's _in love_ with you. I haven't been _in love_ with you in well over a year.

"Are you gonna stay here, in San Diego?"

He shook his head, then laughed. Just as she had quickly nodded about being in love with Ron, Kendall knew he couldn't stay. Then he sighed. "Are you busy today?"

"No."

Kendall chuckled. "How long's he gonna sleep?"

She smiled. "Until I get him up."

"I need a ride to my parents."

"Do you need a friend too?"

Oh Christ yes. "Sure. Friends are good."

She nodded, then gripped his hands. "Kendall, you remember what I asked you, when we uh...."

He stared at her; she was truly beautiful, but some part of her was closed to him, and had always been so. Now he could see it, like seeing into himself, but that made him feel sick. Or maybe it was his hangover. "You'll always be my friend Natalie, always."

But no more than that. And no one else will ever be closer than Natalie, no one.

She nodded, then began crying quietly. Her sobs bounced in Kendall's hollow chest, easing his ringing head.

Later that day, at his parents' house, Kendall nursed a soda, so wishing for a beer. Brenda and Chris Schultz took their son's altered appearance with trepidation, then deep sorrow. Kendall knew he had disappointed them, but wasn't sure what was worse; his weight gain, bloodshot eyes, or very short hair. Maybe just the solid truth that he was prematurely aged; stepping into their house, he felt about sixty, as if he had dwelled in some odd universe taking him past his mother and father. Brenda tenderly held his hands like he was an old, dying man. Chris couldn't meet Kendall's gaze.

Kendall hoped all they saw was the outside. Natalie knew about his missing heart, but perhaps his parents were so stunned, they couldn't focus on any more than a child returned but so outwardly battered that what had caused the injuries remained unconsidered. Better that way, as he spoke in a halting voice. He did feel much older than them, also like a wayward son. He had broken many of their rules, all unstated yet so ingrained. Once a golden boy, now he was a wretch; Kendall wanted to smile, but his mother's tears stole his fleeting mirth.

If they could put me in rehab, he thought, as Chris enfolded his wife. Dad wants to shield her from this, from me, like I am an alcoholic, a wastrel. He doesn't want her to see, or even concede this is me. "Listen, I'm sorry." Kendall sighed, but felt uplifted as Natalie squeezed his hand. Then he stood, letting Natalie go. All of you, I need to be so far away, Jesus! "Mom, Dad, I, uh...." He glanced at Brendan, sitting at the table, Lindsay beside him. They weren't as judging, but deep pain sat in their eyes. "I'm not gonna stay here, I can't. I don't know what I'm gonna do but...."

He had returned as the prodigal son, and he wanted to laugh hard and loud, maybe shake something loose. Maybe just himself; I am not like any of you anymore. Not that I know what I am, but I'm not Kendall Schultz soccer star, or even Chris and Brenda's eldest, a perfect son from a perfect street in perfect fucking Southern California. I'm a street person, a drunk. Kendall wanted a beer so badly, he finally acknowledged that fact. "I'm an alcoholic," he smiled, as if that was easier to face than being a man without a heart.

Then he laughed, for that sounded ridiculous. He glanced at Natalie, who had moved to Brenda's other side. Then he gazed at his siblings. Lindsay leaned against Brendan, who cradled her.

"I'm sorry I've turned into such a...." He wanted to say _fuck-up_ , but didn't wish to further alarm his parents. "Screw-up," he said, but it felt so weak. "I'm fucked, we all are. Tell you what Dad, sell my car." Kendall couldn't get _Mercedes_ from his throat. "Mom, put all those trophies, the plaques, everything in my room on eBay. Give the money to charity. I'm not that person anymore, I never will be again. I'm gonna...." He looked at his parents and former girlfriend. She is still my friend, but what will happen to me isn't going to be pretty. Thank God Superman will take care of her.

"You're gonna what?" Brenda met his eyes. "Kill yourself?"

Oh, if only it was that easy. "I'm gonna leave. I'll let you know where I end up, I promise."

Brendan and Lindsay now stood beside him. "Kenny, please, we love you, you need help, you need...."

A drink, but not here, not until I'm on a plane again. He kissed his sister's cheek, then gripped his brother's hand. Kendall then caught his father's gaze; Chris trembled, looked ready to crack.

Kendall nodded to his dad, then mouthed _I'm sorry_. Stepping away from his family, Kendall exited his childhood home through the front door.

### Chapter 8

Outside the terminal Natalie fingered Kendall's scarred chin, then held his hand. A security guard shot them dirty looks, but this time Natalie flaunted rules that were sometimes meant to be broken. She hadn't left her car running; this wasn't going to be a short goodbye.

"Just keep in touch, that's all I ask." She stroked his cheek, a beard almost poking through his skin.

"Thanks for the ride." He wanted to nuzzle her face, but the stubble was rough, and if he did get any closer, he might chicken out and check himself into a clinic. It might curb his drinking, but wouldn't do anything for the rest of him. "Better go before that guy arrests us. I don't look like Kendall Schultz anymore."

He still recalled that guard at LAX, kowtowing to Kendall after he realized who he was. Then Natalie had stayed in her car. This time, she was seeing him off properly. This time, it was truly _adios_.

"Kendall...." She started to cry, then looked around, as if forcing something else in her head. She smiled weakly, running her hand over his shorn scalp. "Be good to yourself. We love you."

"Sure." He smiled, but it hurt more than he could bear. "Tell Dr. Ron thanks."

Kendall stepped away, glared at the guard, then headed into the building. He heard Natalie call after him, _Thanks for what?_ , but Kendall didn't look back or answer her.

His boarding pass read Atlanta, Georgia as his next destination, but Kendall didn't gaze at it again after it was given to him. He chose Atlanta because it was a straight flight; he hadn't wanted to interrupt his drinking, which he had already started, a beer ordered at one of the terminal bars. He had another, then walked to his gate, feeling almost human since arriving back in California.

I need to fire Sandy Schulman, if he hasn't already dropped me; Kendall considered his agent, maybe former agent, then he leaned back in the seat, pulling out his phone. He wrote a brief email to Schulman, then turned off the device. He wasn't due into Atlanta for several hours, wouldn't check his email until then.

Once in the South, Kendall wanted to check into a nice hotel, stay in Atlanta for a couple of days. He had liked driving between Georgia and Alabama, a completely different landscape and culture than Southern California. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see the Givenses or Harners, maybe just Wilson and Delia, and only for another couple of months. He was happy for them, but hadn't been comfortable around Trevor's baby girl, and Wilson's impending addition wouldn't be any easier. Besides, Christmas was looming, as was another date, and Kendall wanted to be very inebriated for those events. He didn't want to talk or engage with anyone.

An hour later he boarded. He had a first class window seat, and he stretched out, ordering a drink. Maybe he would sleep; maybe he would dream he was somewhere no one had ever been, a place where love didn't exist, nor pain. After the plane departed, Kendall did fall asleep, and dreamt of soccer-playing zombies, but all of the balls were Casey's head, and Kendall woke with a nauseous jerk.

He went to the lavatory, but couldn't vomit. Back in his seat, he asked if he had missed the meal. The flight attendant nodded, asked if he wanted it now, but he shook his head. She stepped away, then brought him some crackers, and he smiled at her; she looked like an older version of Natalie. He asked for another beer and she frowned slightly. He didn't argue, as the man next to him was snoring. Kendall didn't want to cause a scene.

Some part of me still exists, he sighed, nibbling on the crackers. I'm still Chris and Brenda's son, doing what's expected of me. Maybe I should go somewhere new, not Alabama or Georgia, maybe to Mississippi or Tennessee; he would rent a car, once he had enjoyed a good binge. Maybe I'll buy something, a truck perhaps. I just won't drive when I'm drunk.

Maybe I'm overthinking this, he considered, finishing the crackers. He lifted the shade, then looked out the window. Maybe alcoholics don't ponder the details. Am I really a drunk? I want to be, he smiled. Nothing would hurt, I wouldn't be able to play again and.... His chest ached; do I want to play again? Herm would take one look at me, then kick my ass. Kendall shut his eyes, imagining his former coach instead of his dad, supporting Brenda on the family sofa. Better for Herm not to see me this way. Bad enough the rest of them did.

By the time he reached Atlanta, Kendall had decided to buy an American truck, didn't care which brand. He had only driven European cars, German cars to be precise, since coming back from Spain. He would buy a truck right off a lot in.... Would he stay in Georgia, or maybe rent something until he reached another state. Mississippi was on the other side of Alabama, but that would be a long drive in a rental. How far was Tennessee?

He couldn't pull out his phone now, the plane in descent. Besides, he didn't want to see if Sandy Schulman had written back. Kendall would spend that night in the closest airport hotel, maybe a couple of nights. He wanted to get blitzed, needed to set California and his family far into the past. If I could bury them with Casey.... Kendall smiled as the jet touched down. The man beside him stirred, asked if they had arrived. His accent was thick; he's home, maybe I am too. The South works for Wilson and Trevor, Kendall thought, noting that yes, they had landed, both men having reached home.

Time spent drinking at the Hilton allowed Kendall to evaluate his life. His agent was no longer his agent; Sandy Schulman had sent an expletive-filled reply that seemed more to fire Kendall than the other way around. Natalie pleaded with Kendall to get help, they even spoke for a few minutes the day after Kendall arrived, just as he was slipping from a cognizant state into one of detachment. He could recall her tears, if he started floating toward sobriety. It was Natalie's sorrow that kept Kendall drinking into a third day.

During that time, he wrote to Brendan, telling him of the plan; once Kendall could function, he was going to buy a truck, then he would drive to Tennessee. He wasn't sure what part of Tennessee, but not Nashville or Memphis. He didn't wish to be recognized, which he assumed was still unlikely, even in those big cities. But he didn't want to risk it, not from personal embarrassment, but that he didn't wish to humiliate his family any more than he already had.

He promised Brendan he wouldn't drive drunk, and that when he found a quiet place to settle down in, then Kendall would provide his brother with an address. Or the closest coordinates, in case it was a backwoods hovel. That was on his list of possibilities. He might just turn into a Tennessee hermit, drifting through life one six-pack at a time.

He didn't drink anything harder than beer, but he drank many of them, and by the fourth day, he was quite sick. He spent much of the afternoon sitting on the toilet, throwing up into the toilet, or kneeling in the shower while water washed vomit down the drain. Housekeeping kept an eye on him, and by evening, he had ingested some chicken soup, brought to him by an older woman named Melba. She looked familiar, maybe how Delia would appear in twenty or thirty years. Kendall wasn't sure if Melba knew who he was; sometimes she almost scolded him, but maybe she was just chastising a young man trying to drown his sorrows, if not himself.

On the fifth morning he woke to a tremendous hangover, ordering toast and tea from room service. After retrieving the cart, he sat on the edge of his bed, but the toast didn't appeal. He drank some of the tea, adding several packets of sugar. Then he lay down, and slept all afternoon.

When he woke, Melba was changing the towels. The sheet was over him, but he was naked under it. He watched her walk back and forth, then she cleared her throat, pointing at the cart. "You done with that?"

"Yeah, thanks."

She nodded, then stared at him. "How're you feeling?"

Strange, he wanted to say. I need to take the longest piss, and finally my head doesn't hurt. I'm sort of hungry. I think I need a shower, no, I know I need a shower. And I need to get my ass out of this hotel. "Okay," he said. "I'm feeling okay."

She sighed. "You should have something to eat, maybe just broth." Then she shook her head. "Young man, I'm gonna say something. You're a right mess. But you're young, so you have time to change it, if you want." She clucked, then crossed her arms. "You're probably well off enough that you can do whatever you please. Not many folks are in your position, I'm sure not. I could lose my job speaking to you this way, but over the last couple of days I've made sure you haven't died, so I hope you'll take that into account. Don't waste your life, you understand? You seem to have a pretty good one, at least financially." Then she smiled. "Or maybe you're deep in debt, and I shouldn't have wasted my time."

"I'm not deep in debt," Kendall grinned.

"All right then, get yourself sober, and get outta my sight. I'm tired of worrying about you."

Kendall sat up, his bladder aching, his stomach calm. His head didn't pound, but that echo in his chest caused him to draw several deep breaths. "I'm sorry for making you worry."

She nodded, then sighed. "Get a shower, order some chicken broth. You need something very easy on your stomach." Then she clucked again, pushing the cart toward the door. Kendall waited until he heard the door close. Then he went into the bathroom, closing that door behind him.

That evening he checked out of the Hilton, but made provisions for Melba to receive a large gratuity. Then he took a cab to the Marriott, booking himself a suite. He stayed there for two nights, not doing more than getting sober, and buying a truck. When he checked out of that hotel, he drove away in a brand-new blue Chevy Avalanche, which seemed far more than he needed in just about every respect. Still, it handled well, not that he had driven many pick-ups. Then he smiled. There was nothing pick-up-like about this vehicle.

He left Georgia on the first anniversary of Casey's death. Kendall had answered texts from Wilson and Trevor, Natalie and Brendan. His parents and sister wrote, so had Melissa Alspach, but Kendall didn't reply to those, wasn't sure if he could without needing a drink. He didn't want one, getting on Interstate 75, going north. The Avalanche had a Garmin, and he punched in Tennessee, no particular destination. Chattanooga was right over the state line, but Kendall wanted to go further, perhaps past Nashville. Unlike on the West Coast, southern states were small, and Kendall reached Tennessee in two hours. In that time he listened to music, finding the truck was easy to drive for such a large vehicle. It didn't remind him at all of the Mercedes, which made him smile at several points during the trip.

Just outside Chattanooga, he stopped for lunch, ordering ribs at a small barbecue joint near the freeway. He said little as friendly accents floated through the room. He was glad for his short hair and small paunch, but the truck was ostentatious. He left a generous tip, then got back on the road.

I-75 continued east to Knoxville, but Kendall chose west, taking an exit for I-24. Tennessee plates were mainly what he saw, and wanting to maintain a low profile, he decided to sell this vehicle. He wanted something less gaudy, and a few years older. He might look rough, but his accent was clearly not local. Driving this behemoth wouldn't help him blend in.

He spent that night in Murfreesboro, and the next morning he stopped at the local Chevy dealer. He explained his situation, which seemed to confound a senior salesman. Kendall wanted to give back the Avalanche, at a loss if necessary, for an older model.

A younger man approached. "What kind of truck are you looking for?"

Kendall sighed. "Just something not so big, and a little older."

The younger man smiled, staring at Kendall. "I know you. You're...."

Kendall looked at the floor. Then he met the salesman's gaze. "Yeah, who am I?"

"Bill, maybe I can be of assistance here with Mr. Schultz." The younger man extended his hand to Kendall. "Greg Simmons. I follow D.C. United sometimes, sometimes Kansas City." Greg smiled at his colleague. "Bill, this here's...."

The older man shrugged. "Good lord, you and that damned soccer. Why the hell you don't follow the Titans like everyone else?" He shook his head, then walked away.

Kendall wondered if Bill might be angry that Greg had interfered with this sale. "Is it gonna be a hassle, I mean...."

"Absolutely no problem Mr. Schultz. Now, why don't I take you over to our pre-owned lot? We have several models you might be interested in."

Kendall nodded as Greg led the way.

Greg Simmons didn't pry into why Kendall was in Murfreesboro, but gently steered him toward a charcoal four-year-old Silverado with thirty thousand miles. It had Tennessee plates, no outstanding issues, and a full service history. Greg knew the former owner, who simply hadn't been able to keep up the payments. One small ding on the driver's side door was the only blemish. Kendall took it for a spin, and Greg didn't speak, except to answer questions about the vehicle.

They returned to the dealership and Kendall signed the papers. To Greg's surprise, Kendall didn't seek any reimbursement of the Avalanche's original cost. "You and Bill split it," he said to Greg. "Merry Christmas."

"My goodness Mr. Schultz, I don't know what to say."

Neither do I, Kendall thought, and I can't believe I told him to have a Merry Christmas. The last time I said that was to that asshole security guard at LAX. Kendall forced that memory from his head, then smiled at Greg. "Just thanks for helping me today." God knows I needed it.

With keys jangling in his hand, Kendall left the speechless car salesman, walking to his new but used truck. He started it up, waved, then pulled from the lot, feeling that maybe Tennessee might work out after all.

Staying on I-24, he passed through Nashville, spending that night outside of Clarksville. Kendall chose a small motel, ate a turkey sandwich at another barbecue joint, then bought a six-pack of beer. He drank four of them, then fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

In the morning, he woke feeling slightly ill, but not as badly as a year ago. A year ago, he woke in Natalie's bed, very hung-over, also sated. After he sent Brendan to their parents' house, Kendall had picked up Natalie, taking her to where his family waited. There he spoke with Wilson and Trevor, who had already learned the news. Then he had talked to Melissa, but only long enough for her to expend some inkling of her sorrow. Kendall then drove Natalie back to her house; it was her house even then. They made love, then he went to the closest liquor store. He brought a six-pack to her house, drank three beers, again had sex with Natalie, then drank two more beers. Then he slept off very little of it, the drunk and the pain.

But that wasn't anything considered to how ill he had been days later, after Casey's funeral. Kendall had only been that blitzed one other time, just recently, he thought, slowly getting up to pee. In Atlanta, at the Hilton, where he might go back one day; perhaps he would run into Melba. People in The South were more kind than in California; was it the slower pace, different values? They didn't even know he was a former sporting star, or not many of them did. Greg Simmons had been discreet; he hadn't asked for an autograph or a photograph. But then, other than his scar, Kendall didn't look like that anymore. And maybe here, that mark wouldn't seem so out of place. With that scar, and now a four-year-old truck, Tennessee plates to boot, maybe he could start to disappear.

He took a shower, feeling better as hot water ran along his skin, then swirled down the drain. Kendall didn't need to puke, but he wanted to eat. He also wanted to drive around, acclimate himself to his new truck, this new life. He wanted to find someplace where he could slip into the shadows, or the dense overgrowth. In that respect, Tennessee wasn't any different than Georgia or Alabama; no palm trees, no enormous freeways, now that he was out of Nashville. He needed small towns; a little hole in the wall with a market and a liquor store. He liked buying beer from liquor stores, it made him feel anonymous.

Anyone could walk into those shops, where no questions were asked. None were necessary; if you entered a liquor store, there was only one reason. Or that maybe you needed cigarettes. Kendall wouldn't take up smoking; then his family truly wouldn't forgive him.

Natalie might write him off, Wilson and Trevor the same. But he could drink his life away, that was acceptable, in the grand scheme. It would tear his family apart, but was less appalling than if he started smoking.

Or at least smoking tobacco. Maybe Kendall could take up weed, let it all go to shit. Smoke pot, drink beer, what the fuck? Sport still meant nothing, his life was.... He sighed, Melba's chastising voice not far away: _You're a right mess. But you're young, so you have time to change it, if you want._ He shook his head. What point was there in changing his life? Casey's was over. Melissa lived with that truth every single day.

Was he being maudlin? He had been Casey's friend, just his friend, but he thought of me like a brother. Kendall finished his shower, toweled off, then dressed. Then he picked up his phone. Melissa had texted him and Kendall owed her a response.

She had written: _Just wanted to say hi. Hope you're okay._ She added a smiley face, which slapped his face. Then he grinned, looking at his last two beers. He pounded one, then wrote back to her: _I'm fine. Hope you are too._ He sent it, then gathered his keys and wallet. He left his phone there, would use the truck's navigator to find breakfast. And maybe to get another six-pack.

He returned to find three texts waiting on his phone; one was from Natalie, one from Brendan, one from Melissa. He read the first two, the same old song. Melissa's previous text had seemed similar, just checking on him. But that smiley face grated.

He drank his last beer, then read her note. It was much longer than any text should be. He blinked away tears, then set the phone on the bed. He wanted another beer, but hadn't bought more, also wanting to check out that morning and not get arrested for a DUI. He picked up his tablet, scouting around the area. Bowling Green was to the east, Louisville north of that, but Kendall didn't want to leave Tennessee, he felt safe here. He didn't know anyone in this state other than Greg Simmons, and that was just to handle a transaction. Somehow Greg Simmons had facilitated Kendall's relocation to within Tennessee's borders. If Kendall remained here, all would be well.

He surfed for an hour, letting the alcohol dissipate in his system. He wanted to read Melissa's note again, just to see if he had misread it the first time. But thinking about her words made him shake. Check-out time was at noon. He needed to find a new place to stay.

At eleven forty-five, he dropped off the key, then drove back toward Nashville. He stayed in the right lane, keeping to the speed limit. He had never driven his Mercedes while under the influence, which he felt he still was. He didn't like that sensation, and after getting onto I-40, heading for Memphis, he pulled over at the first road-side barbecue. He had hot links, potato salad, and a soda. He ate slowly, observing the clientele, a tight clique who talked as if he wasn't there. Names rolled in charming, aged accents, and by the time he left, he could write a succinct history of that little piece of America.

He was also sober as he drove away, an hour and a half from Memphis. Kendall didn't want to go that far, and after an hour he took an exit for Highway 222, reaching the small town of Summerland. Its population was four thousand, the sign read, noting various civic organizations. Memphis was thirty minutes away, the Garmin told him, but from the layout of simple streets, Kendall could also be a million miles from anywhere remotely urban.

Multi-colored Christmas garland was festooned along two-story downtown buildings. Large candy canes hung from streetlamps and icicle lights dangled from aged storefronts. Mechanical Santas and elves waved from shop windows; it reminded Kendall of Melissa's handiwork, and he winced, thinking to her long text. Was she kidding him, she had to be. He pulled into an empty space, diagonal to the sidewalk. Kendall plunked in enough change for an hour's worth of parking, then locked the truck. He looked one way, down the other, wishing for a bar.

One beer would get him to a motel, and from there he could scout out a liquor store. A six-pack would see him through the evening, then breakfast tomorrow, and then.... He shivered, wishing for a jacket. He needed something to erase the chill.

Did Wilson know, or Trevor? He wanted to text them, but wasn't sure if that was appropriate. Maybe he would wait to see if they wrote to him. Kendall wandered along the shops, then reached the end of the block. A park was right across, children running and shouting. So close to Christmas, school was out for vacation.

He crossed the other way, but it was a long dark building, making him feel even colder. Her news wasn't altogether bad, but it still rankled; she was acting as a surrogate for one of her sisters. Melissa was three months' pregnant, but it wasn't Casey's baby, wasn't even her own. Still, someone was going to be a mother. Kendall needed to write back to her, but probably not a text. This deserved an email, even if he had to be three sheets to the wind.

He hadn't heard that expression in ages, wasn't even sure when he had learned what it meant. It had been noted by several of those eating lunch at the barbecue joint; Mac, Davis, and Harry had all been three sheets to the wind last night. So had Kendall, and he smiled, longing to be that loaded in another few hours. But walking felt good, or at least he felt something. Being numb was preferable, but the athlete in him screamed for activity.

Walking back to where he had crossed, he glanced at the park; kids were chasing each other, nothing organized. Then he spotted a few kicking a soccer ball. That sphere seemed to land inside him, pounding from side to side in the vacancy within his rib cage. His feet propelled him through the crosswalk, but he stayed on the concrete. The voices were younger versions of those he had heard at lunch, and he smiled. Here it was about simple pastimes, no one anywhere near three sheets to anything.

The ball was underinflated, he saw that immediately. But kids kept kicking it, and he smiled. "Hey, you need to pump it up!"

Every child stared at him. He shook his head, as if chastising himself. One boy of about eight or nine picked up the ball, then walked his way. He had shaggy medium-brown hair, large brown eyes, and wore a long-sleeved soccer-style jersey. "Are you from around here?"

Kendall smiled. "No, but I can see a flat ball from Memphis."

Kids laughed, then scattered, as a smaller boy followed the older one. "Hey Heath, don't talk to strangers!"

The older boy turned around, pointing at the younger child. "Be quiet Ben." Then he faced Kendall. "You got a way to pump it up?"

His voice pummeled Kendall's brain, as if this southern youngster was channeling Casey. "No, but if you keep kicking it, it's not gonna last."

Heath sighed, then let Ben catch up to him. Ben had dark hair and blue eyes, didn't look at all like Heath, but Kendall could tell they were brothers. Then Kendall wanted to fall to the ground. Heath dropped the ball, kicked it, then shook out his shoulders, his hair flinging in the air. Casey Alspach stood in front of Kendall in the guise of a little Tennessee kid.

"Listen, I'll get you a new ball, just give me that one." Kendall looked around, wasn't sure from where he would get a new soccer ball. Were there any sporting goods stores close, or was Memphis the hub?

Ben scowled, crossing arms over his chest. "I don't talk to strangers. C'mon Heath, c'mon."

"There's a sports store two blocks away. Mostly it's for fishing. They might have a ball."

Kendall nodded. "I'll be right back. My name's Kendall. I, uh, used to play soccer. I just don't want you kicking a flat ball."

Heath almost smiled, but kept his distance, as Ben tugged on his arm. For a four or five-year-old, Ben seemed the one in charge. Brendan had been that way a year ago, trying to take care of an older brother. Even just ten days previously, Brendan would have done anything if only Kendall had permitted it.

"I'll be right back." Kendall gazed at Heath. He didn't look a thing like Casey, except for that hair. But it wasn't even the right color. Maybe this is the son Casey and Melissa would have had. That thought sent Kendall on his way.

Ten minutes later he returned with a bag of soccer balls, having bought out the small shop's supply. Heath was grateful, so were half a dozen other kids, who mutually decided that Kendall wasn't a pedophile, just a sports nut. He spent the next twenty minutes showing off skills somewhat rusty, but impressive to a group of youngsters. Ben sat on the ground, glowering at them, his arms still crossed.

As kids started to drift away, taking their balls with them, Kendall made his goodbyes. He didn't want to alarm anyone, had only done what any other decent soccer player would have; no one deserved to kick a flat ball.

"Hey mister," Heath called, clutching his prize under his right arm.

Kendall turned back. Ben stood just behind Heath, still scowling. "Yeah?"

"You wanna come to my house for dinner?" Heath scuffed a shoe along patchy grass. "I mean, to thank you for the new ball."

No California kid would be so daring, or thoughtful, yet Kendall hadn't wanted this sort of contact. He only wanted to find a motel, then get drunk. Dinner sounded like an odd accompaniment, but maybe he needed to eat something other than barbecue. If nothing else, it would delay him from writing back to Melissa. Maybe he could pretend she had never texted him.

Kendall approached the boys; they must be brothers, even if they didn't look anything alike. Brendan and I don't either, Kendall allowed. "So, dinner. You need to ask your parents first?"

Heath looked at the ground, then he sighed. "Just our mom." Then Heath met Kendall's gaze. "But we'll take you to Grandma's first."

Kendall felt a sharp pain where his heart used to be. "Sure. Take me to your grandma's first."

"Where're you parked?"

Kendall pointed to the shops. "Just over there."

Heath paused. "Hmmm. All right, well, she lives over there." He motioned to the other side of the park. "It's 1114 Mason. Can you remember that?"

"1114 Mason. Mason Street or...."

"Street," Heath said. "It's a gray house and...."

"Heath!" Ben stamped his foot.

"Be quiet," Heath said, as if Ben was a pesky fly. Then Heath looked at Kendall. "We'll meet you there. 1114 Mason, okay?"

"Got it," Kendall nodded.

Heath wore a small smile, grabbing Ben's hand. "C'mon, we gotta tell Grandma."

"You're gonna be in so much trouble Heath!"

Kendall smiled, but didn't move, as Ben continued giving his older brother an earful while Heath clutched the soccer ball. Then Kendall turned for his truck while the voices of squabbling siblings carried across the park.

### Chapter 9

Heath waited on the front porch steps as Kendall pulled up in front of 1114 Mason Street. Christmas lights blazed from other houses, but here they hung silently. In the twilight, the house could be any color, but as Kendall got out, then locked the truck, he saw it probably was gray, an old, weathered hue that seemed to exemplify all he considered southern.

Maybe it wasn't the peeling paint; maybe it was a young scruffy boy sitting on steps, a soccer ball clutched between his feet. Maybe it was the porch swing attached to the awning by rusty chains. Perhaps it was the darkened lights or the lush foliage that wound between the houses, growing much taller than the three or four foot high fences on either side. Lights shone through front windows, an old screen door intact, but the main door was cracked open behind it, from where Kendall could hear Ben tattling on Heath.

Heath stood as Kendall approached. "Grandma says it's up to Mom if you can stay for dinner." Heath looked at the house, then smiled at Kendall. "She'll be here any minute."

"Maybe I'll just stay out here until she arrives." Kendall's presence was odd, no way to deny it, although by now in California someone would have called the cops. I'm really not a pervert, he sighed inwardly. And I guess there's nowhere on God's green earth I can escape soccer.

"You wanna sit down?" Heath returned to his spot on the steps. Then he glanced over his shoulder. Ben had stopped talking, the house was quiet. Heath sighed. "He's a pain."

Kendall sat on the step below Heath, leaving plenty of room between them. "Is he your brother?"

"Yeah. He's four and a half. I'm eight and a half." Heath grinned, then picked up the ball. "Are you really a soccer player?"

Kendall fought a smile. "I used to be."

"What do you do now?"

That's a loaded question. "Well, I, uh...."

A car pulled up behind Kendall's truck and Heath jumped from the steps, gripping his ball. Kendall watched but felt ill; he moves just like Casey. How in the hell can that be possible?

"Mom, Mom, look what I got!" Heath went to the driver's door as a woman stepped from the vehicle. Heath pointed to Kendall. "He's a soccer player, brought a bunch of balls to the park." Then Heath motioned for his mother's ear. He said something to her, which Kendall assumed was along the lines of that no, the man wasn't a pedophile.

The woman looked toward Kendall, but she remained in the shadows. She was taller than her son, but short overall, and as she approached, Kendall stood from the step. He met her along the concrete path that split the front yard. Kendall extended his hand, gazing at her; she wore a uniform, was some sort of nurse. She had dark hair, didn't look like Heath. "I didn't mean to cause such a commotion, I just...."

She shook Kendall's hand, then slowly she smiled, which immediately set him at ease. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Kendall shook his head, then rubbed a hand over his scalp. "Uh, no, I'm not."

She nodded, then looked him over. It was nearly dark, and Kendall wondered what she was searching for. "Well, looks like Heath promised you dinner. C'mon, let's see what's going on inside."

Heath yammered about the flat ball, his new ball, and Ben's disrespect. And that Kendall was a soccer player, that he was really good. Heath's mother responded with _uh-huh's_ and _yeah's_ , but as they reached the front door, she turned to face Kendall. "I'm Sarah."

In the light from the house, Kendall saw Ben's blue eyes, small mouth, and sharp nose. But unlike Ben, Sarah didn't seem contemptuous. Kendall smiled. "Kendall Schultz. It's very nice to meet you."

She nodded, then opened the screen door. Heath followed, Kendall behind him.

Kendall sat on the sofa, a glass of ice tea on a coaster in front of him, the coffee table strewn with magazines. Not the _Journal of the American Medical Association_ , Kendall noted, but _Family Circle_ , _TV Guide_ , and crossword puzzles. Heath sat beside Kendall, Sarah on her son's other side. In a chair across was Adele, Sarah's mother. On Adele's lap, Ben sulked.

Heath did all the talking, allowing Kendall to study the family; Ben looked just like his mother, who looked just like her mother. Bright blue eyes gazed at Kendall, but Heath's brown eyes were all over the room, occasionally easing and troubling Kendall's guts. He didn't actually look like Casey, his coloring was completely different. But his enthusiasm was akin to.... Kendall wanted to ruffle Heath's hair, see him react. Casey often jumped around spasmodically, making Kendall and the rest laugh. He was like a perpetual kid, and Kendall swallowed hard; he would always be twenty-nine years old.

Then Kendall felt all eyes on him. "Uh, what?"

"We were just talking about supper," Adele clucked. "Sounds like Heath promised you a meal in return for the ball."

Kendall stood, just wanting a beer. "Actually, I should be going." He gazed at the half-full glass of tea; should I try to finish it, or leave it? Which would appear less rude? Their accents reminded him of home, in how properly he had been raised. Kendall reached for the glass, took a long sip. Then he smiled at Adele and Ben. Ben stuck out his tongue.

"Mom, did you see what Ben just did?"

Kendall tried not to chuckle as Sarah glanced at her mother and child. Ben wore a shit-eating grin, then shrugged his shoulders as if to say _Who me?_

Then he peered at Kendall, making Kendall shake; I don't blame you kid. I wouldn't want to know me either.

"You boys, go to the kitchen. Now." Sarah didn't shout, but both sons scampered from their seats. Heath scolded Ben as they reached the kitchen.

Adele followed, not saying _goodbye_ to Kendall. Then Sarah cleared her throat. "So Mr., uh...."

"Schultz." He didn't mind that she wanted to keep it on a formal level. As soon as I leave here, I'll stop at the first liquor store I see, then the first decent motel. I'll drink my dinner, fall asleep, leave this little town as soon as I can drive. An anecdote, that's all this will be for everyone.

"Mr. Schultz...." She sighed, then removed a scrunchie from her hair. She shook her head and Kendall winced; she moves like Casey too, seems about his age, shit! Maybe I'll just drive to Memphis and.... "Where're you staying tonight?"

"Uh, what?"

She smiled. "Are you here on business or...."

Kendall stared at her, then into the room, which didn't look like any of the houses he was accustomed to; it was filled with bookcases and cabinets which teemed with novels and curios, dishes and stemware. Walls were covered with old paintings and photographs, bric-a-brac and mirrors. Every inch of space was taken, as quilts and crocheted blankets clung to the backs of chairs and the sofa, lamps providing diffused light that twinkled in Sarah's very blue eyes. Kendall stared at those eyes, then looked to the floor. "I don't have any real plans, ma'am."

A smile broke over her face. "Ma'am huh. You pick that up since you arrived?"

He grinned. "My parents instilled manners, even far away in California."

She nodded. "I figured you were from somewhere on the West Coast. What in the world are you doing in Tennessee?"

She said it as if truly interested, also like it was the fifty thousand dollar question. They still stood, but he had to wonder if this was some way to keep him there while her mother made sure he wasn't a wanted pedophile. "I have friends in Alabama and Georgia, just wanted to check out more of The South."

"I see. And do they play soccer too?"

She truly didn't know who he was, and Kendall wondered for how long that would remain. All they had to do was Google his name. He might look completely different, but the soccer ball was key. And his scar; she seemed to be staring at his chin, and he smiled. "They do play soccer."

"But you don't?"

She met his gaze; he had approached her sons, and other kids too. She had every right to question him, why had he said anything? The ball, it was all about the ball, some otherworldly magnet. "I use to play. Professionally," he added. "But I quit last year."

_Last year_ was spoken as if the world had ended. It did, for me. But Melissa's having her sister's baby. Maybe she will be all right. Maybe next season San Diego will pull themselves out of the gutter. Maybe....

"Mom, what're we having for dinner?" Heath called from the kitchen.

"Mr. Schultz, will you be joining us?" Sarah asked quietly.

"Mom!"

"I'd be happy to stay for dinner," Kendall said as if Casey was in the next room.

Sarah smiled, then walked past Kendall. "Just a minute Heath." She sighed, then turned to Kendall. "Barbecue all right?"

He chuckled. "Sure, anything's fine."

"Heath, you and Ben use the bathroom. Then get your jackets." Sarah smiled at Kendall. "I really didn't have anything planned, so...."

As the boys rushed from the kitchen to the nearby hall, Kendall felt a window had opened, maybe a doorway. He didn't want to step through it, but now was his last chance to escape. "Mrs...."

"Sarah, please call me Sarah."

I'd rather not. Let's just leave it as Mr. Schultz and Mrs. Whatever. I really should get out of your hair, we can all forget this ever happened. "Sarah, I, uh...."

Heath was at his mother's side before Kendall could finish. "Mom, can I sit in the front or is Grandma coming with us?"

"I'm staying here," Adele called from the kitchen.

Ben approached, walking around the coffee table to avoid Kendall. He grabbed his mother's right hand, glaring at nothing in particular.

But Sarah and Heath stared at Kendall, who inhaled, smelling a Christmas tree. Turning around, he saw it near the stairs, as if a last-minute addition. Then he looked around the room. There were no other decorations, not even a single Santa. The lights hung outside, but hadn't been turned on. He looked out the still open front door, where across the street a display blazed.

Kendall returned to Heath and Sarah's faces; both pairs of eyes sparkled, but Heath's were huge, and other than the color, they were exactly like Casey's. Sarah's were more intense, the hue, and a quiet sorrow. Or maybe he attached that emotion due to the scarcity of the holiday on show.

"Please have dinner with us," Heath said in a small voice.

Against his better judgment, Kendall nodded. Heath hooted in victory as Ben produced a weary sigh. Kendall didn't look at Sarah, again glancing at the bright house across the street.

Everywhere else in Summerland, Christmas blared like a foghorn; at the small barbecue restaurant, gold and silver garland draped similar knickknacks that Kendall had seen at Adele's house. Reindeer and sleighs lined shelves, Santas stood on the tables next to condiments. Christmas carols wafted through the room as Sarah and her sons sat on one bench, Kendall alone on the other. Ben still shot Kendall death glares, or occasionally stuck out his tongue. Beside his mother, he was her twin, albeit shorter and male. Heath carried none of their characteristics, but was friendly like his mom, and more chatty.

The waitress asked how they were, trying not to stare at Kendall. He smiled, ordering the brisket and a soda. He was dying for a beer, which made him ache. Maybe I am slipping into something dangerous, he pondered, as Sarah asked her sons about their day. School had just let out, and when they weren't at Adele's, they had played at the park. They talked about Tamra, who sounded like a cousin or close family friend. Sarah reminded them Tamra was at dance class, and Heath sighed, as if he should have remembered it.

Then he looked at Kendall. "So, are you excited for Christmas?"

"Oh, uh, sure." Not at all, but whatever. "And you guys?" Kendall wouldn't ask anything more. Maybe Heath was too old for Santa, and Ben would just bite Kendall's head off.

"Yeah, I want a...." While Heath launched into a long list, Kendall observed the other two. Sarah paid little attention, so either she had filled his requests, or wasn't going to bother with it now. Ben looked like he had something to add, but wasn't going to give Kendall the time of day.

Kendall didn't remember Wilson's sons as so detached, or this adult. Ben was right between Marcus and Troy age-wise, but he projected as more of a tired old man. Heath was definitely eight years old; he was also Casey Alspach reincarnated. Just my luck, Kendall mused, sipping his soda.

"What're you doing for Christmas, Kendall?" Heath asked.

"Mr. Schultz," Sarah said to her son.

"Oh, it's okay. He can call me Kendall."

"Humph," Ben huffed.

Sarah glared at her youngest. Then she looked at Kendall. "Do you have any plans?"

Oh, I'm just going to buy a case of beer and get tanked. "Well, nothing really."

"You mean you're gonna be alone?" Heath shook his head. "That's not right."

What's right kid? Kendall smiled, but wanted to slip out the front door, drive as far as his gas tank would carry him. "I'm just passing through. I wasn't really thinking about the holiday."

Except that it's everywhere I go, although it's not that remarkable at your grandma's house. Kendall wanted to know why that was, but good manners required discretion, especially in The South.

"You can spend Christmas with us." Heath smiled, then smirked in Ben's direction. Kendall stifled a chuckle, wondering if Sarah could see her sons' silent war.

Sarah didn't seem aware of that skirmish. She stared at Kendall, then her phone beeped.

"What's Grandma want?" Ben growled.

"Maybe some dinner," Heath said, looking toward the counter. "I'm hungry."

Sarah glanced at her phone, then stood. "Excuse me a moment. You boys behave." She stepped to the front door, then slipped outside.

Ben stared at Kendall as though he had plenty to say. Kendall grinned at the little boy, but remained quiet.

Heath played with the Santa Claus, standing guard over the ketchup. Then Heath drank his water. Kendall was the only one with soda. "So, do you not like soda?" he asked.

Ben rolled his eyes as Heath shook his head. "We aren't allowed soda. It rots your teeth."

"Oh well, that's true." Better than a beer however. "Is your mom a nurse?"

"She's a dental hygienist." Heath said it slowly.

"I see." Kendall smiled. Sarah did have very straight teeth. "Well, better to not get cavities."

"I've never had one," Heath said.

"I've had a few," Kendall smiled.

"Did they hurt?" Heath asked.

Not as much as this dinner. "A little, but...."

The food arrived and Heath immediately took a bite of his sandwich, turkey, Kendall recalled. Ben had one too, a half. Sarah had one as well, also cole slaw and fries. Heath took one of his mother's French fries, then Ben did too.

Kendall wondered if Adele was giving her daughter some sort of Wikipedia report. He didn't care, it might make this outing end more smoothly. The last time he had checked his page was a few months ago, while still in Australia. It was a long article, detailing his two seasons with Real Madrid, then the last eight years with FC San Diego. Then came a lengthy paragraph under the heading _Personal Life_. Kendall had no idea who updated his page, but that person, or persons, had left no stones unturned, noting Kendall's continued break with the team, and with architect Natalie Koslow after a five-year relationship. Then another long section mentioned Casey Alspach, and Kendall's subsequent turn as a playboy. A footnote sat at the end of that sentence, leading to the _Where's Kendall Now?_ link. All that was missing was his trek in The Outback, then a return to America. But here, who might recognize him?

He looked nothing like before, other than his scar. That was probably how Greg Simmons from Murfreesboro had realized just who was trying to dump an Avalanche. Forever Kendall would be harnessed to that blemish under his lower lip, just like the crushing blow Casey had landed on Kendall's heart.

Sarah returned. She didn't look at Kendall, but her slumped shoulders spoke of change. Then she sighed, giving him a weak smile as she sat between her sons, staring at her dinner. Nearly half of the fries were gone, and Kendall wondered if she would say anything about it.

"How was Grandma?"

"What? Oh, she's fine. Just wanted me to get something at the store for her. For Christmas." Sarah glanced at Kendall, then picked up her sandwich, taking a very small bite.

He ate his dinner, watching as she avoided hers. Heath and Ben finished their meals, then ate the rest of their mother's French fries. Sarah took two bites of the slaw, but didn't touch her remaining sandwich. Heath asked if she was okay, his tone concerned. If Kendall paid just a little more attention, an undercurrent would be revealed. But he didn't want to know any more than Ben's continued scowls. That feisty little boy made Kendall smile.

Finally Sarah looked up, staring at Kendall until he met her eyes. "Do you really not have any plans for Christmas?"

Of course I don't, and you probably know exactly why that is. "Not a thing." Please don't ask me, for God's sake don't ask me....

She sighed, as if hesitating. Then she spoke. "Well, we'd be...." She paused. "Happy to have you join us. It's just me and the boys and my brother and Tamra."

"She's our cousin," Ben said, crossing his arms.

"Uncle Jazz and Tamra." Heath crunched the last fry. "We all eat at Grandma's house. Please Kendall?"

"Mr. Schultz," Sarah reminded, looking at the Santa near the window.

Kendall ached more than when he'd been sick at the Atlanta Hilton. This was all due to a stupid soccer ball, why the hell couldn't he have just kept walking past Heath and that flat ball? Why had he stopped in this little town anyways? He should have driven to Memphis, or have gone back to Europe. Kendall couldn't look at Heath, so he glanced at Ben. But that was like looking at Sarah, even if Ben was dying for Kendall to say _no_.

Then Kendall gazed at Ben's mother. She seemed to wish he wouldn't join them, but her reasons stemmed from something deeper than peevishness. Kendall had inadvertently wrapped Marcus and Troy Givens around his finger, but had deftly kept those boys from getting under his skin. Trevor's little girls had been the same, although the baby probably adored anyone willing to hold her, which Kendall had not done. Still she had batted her long eyelashes, smiling constantly. Heath was too old for those sorts of actions; he was drawn to Kendall because of soccer, stupid goddamn soccer. Ben didn't want to give Kendall the time of day, just from spite. Smart kid, Kendall thought.

Sarah cleared her throat, then looked at her dinner. "Heath, take Ben to the restroom."

"Yes Mom." Heath did as he was told, leaving the adults alone.

"Sarah, I...."

She faced him, her eyes very knowledgeable. "Mr. Schultz...."

"Please call me Kendall." God, why did I say that? Just tell me to leave now, before the boys get back. Well, before Heath gets back. Ben doesn't give a crap what happens to me, he really is the smartest of the bunch.

She knows everything, or all that her mother could tell her in the five minutes she was outside. Jesus, please don't ask, don't say it, don't say anything.

"Kendall, you really shouldn't be alone at this time of year."

He inhaled, trying to filter her kind tone and all the Christmas decorations from the oxygen that felt like a burning mist coating the interior of his empty chest. "Sarah, I...."

He saw her reach for his hand, but he couldn't move away fast enough. Her grip wasn't strong, but her mindfulness spread from her fingertips into his bloodstream. How does she know, he wondered, far more than was written on his Wikipedia page. Maybe someone had again updated it, maybe they had tapped into his brain; was everything spilled on the internet, could anyone willing to investigate actually know how empty he was?

"Kendall, what's your phone number?"

He stared at her. Numerals dribbled from his mouth as though he was bleeding any remaining blood.

She put that into her phone, then put the phone in her purse. "I'll text you, and you can let me know. If I don't hear anything, well...." She gazed at her sons, coming from the restroom. "Don't worry about the boys, well, about Heath." She smiled. "I'll tell him something."

Kendall nodded, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. Heath and Ben approached; Ben looked slightly chastened.

Heath was.... Kendall couldn't look at him, Casey at eight years old. Somehow Casey had found Kendall, sneaking into a small Tennessean boy to do it. Wherever Casey was, Tennessee seemed a better place, or maybe this was hell, and Kendall had descended without the specter of death. But it couldn't be hell, as Sarah's warm accent, tinged with too much information, reminded her sons to thank Kendall; she called him by his first name.

How in the hell can she know, Kendall wondered, thanking them for dinner. Then he looked at Sarah. "Thanks, I mean...."

"Like I said, just let me know."

"About Christmas?" Heath smiled.

Kendall thought he heard Ben sigh. "Heath, take Ben to the car." Sarah gave her eldest the keys. Heath muttered a quick _see you soon_ to Kendall, then ushered Ben toward the front door.

Sarah stood, collecting her purse. Kendall joined her, then looked at the door; a large green wreath dotted with multi-colored plastic balls was hung in the center, tarnished gold bells dangling from fraying red yarn. As the boys went through, those bells rang, then were imbedded like knives into Kendall's chest.

"I don't even know your last name," Kendall said.

"Dwyer. Sarah Dwyer. I hope we see you on Christmas Day."

Why, he wanted to ask. Who the hell am I to you? "Well, I, uh...."

She gently squeezed his hand. "Just text me. That's all you have to do."

She smiled, white straight teeth, definitely a dental hygienist. He stared at her grin, avoiding those blue eyes. All he had to do was text her, Kendall thought, as she said _goodnight_ , walking to the door. The bells chimed like a whistle announcing the beginning of a game, beseeching him to step back onto the field.

### Chapter 10

For three days Kendall didn't get far from the Nearly Memphis Motel along Highway 59, on the very outskirts of Summerland. The motel, which wasn't any different than the Clarkeville's motel, was the last building on the way back to the interstate, but half a mile before it was a aged strip mall with a liquor store, launderette, and donut shop. During those three days, right after meeting Sarah, Heath, and Ben Dwyer, Kendall washed his few clothes, ate fritters and bear claws, and drank a lot of beer. When he slept, he dreamed of Casey kicking balls around Summerland's town park. When Kendall woke on the fourth morning, he considered how to end his life.

If all it had become was getting drunk, then dreaming of Casey, there wasn't any point. Kendall hadn't answered Melissa's text, felt guilty about that. He felt deeper remorse for having met the Dwyers, especially Heath. He was also angry at the boy, who wasn't Casey, yet Heath Dwyer was Casey Alspach, Kendall was certain. If there was a God, this was a pretty nasty surprise, all the way in Tennessee. Casey's spirit dwelled in a little brunette southerner, leaving Kendall nowhere to hide.

Once he could sit up without feeling dizzy, Kendall took stock of the room. The only difference between this motel and the Atlanta Hilton was the lack of room service. Otherwise he was as drunk, sick, and lost as right after he left California. But without Melba to kick his ass, Kendall felt perhaps death might be the answer. Yes he was young, he could change, but why? Who would care, who might miss him? He sighed, then plodded into the bathroom, which was old, but clean. This motel had seen better days, but roaches didn't intrude, nor did mold. Previously Kendall hadn't realized what mattered when it came to amenities. No bugs or filth; he could take just about anything else.

Most things, some things; he wasn't at all looking forward to writing to Melissa, but he needed to do it. Kendall was still Chris and Brenda's son; was Heath Melissa and Casey's? And Sarah and.... Who was Heath's father? Some man with brown hair and eyes, because Heath didn't look at all like Sarah and her mom. Maybe Heath and Ben had different dads. Maybe if something happened to Melissa's sister and her husband, Melissa would raise the baby she was carrying. Why had she done that? How could she get pregnant when Casey was gone?

Maybe Casey had been the problem, and Kendall considered medical procedures that had nothing to do with how married couples usually procreated. Melissa's sister wasn't fertile, but Melissa could carry a baby. Kendall stepped into the shower, cold water stirring him from those thoughts. As it warmed, he stood under it; I can't drown in here, so how could I kill myself, and is that really the best way to end the year?

He wouldn't do it in Summerland. He would have to get far away from where Casey was haunting him. Maybe if I had written back to Melissa right away, I wouldn't have met Heath, who really is Casey, the little bastard. Kendall laughed, his head throbbing. Ben's the SOB, won't give me the time of day, just like I've been doing to my family, Natalie, Melissa....

Kendall toweled off, then dressed. He pulled his tablet from the backpack; he hadn't looked at it since coming back from dinner with the Dwyers. In those three days and nights, emails had accumulated, from his parents, siblings, Natalie, Wilson, and Trevor. None were from Melissa.

Writing one brief email, he addressed it to all, except Melissa. He noted that he was near Memphis, wasn't sure what he was doing for Christmas. He said he loved them, and that he was sorry. Kendall sent it, then started another.

Dear Melissa, you won't believe this, but Casey's alive and well in the guise of an eight-year-old not far from Graceland. Did Casey like Elvis? If he did, this is even more apropos. Just wanted to let you know, and hey, congrats on the baby! At least you're going to have someone's kid.

He read that over, then deleted it.

Dear Melissa, I'm at the Nearly Memphis Motel in Tennessee. I got your text, and am really happy that you can support your sister in this way. Best wishes to you and yours, Kendall.

He sent it, then put away the tablet. He picked up dirty clothes, then sat on the end of the mattress. He was hungry and hung-over. Christmas was in three days. A year ago, they had buried Casey. Now he was very far away and Kendall was too, from Bakersfield, from hell. He also felt close to a netherworld, in how he wanted a beer, and wanted to die. It had nothing to do with Melissa Alspach finding a purpose. It had to do with finding Casey in the middle of nowhere, finding solace in alcohol, disappointing everyone. Well, not quite. In three days, when he didn't show up at Christmas dinner, then Kendall would have indeed screwed up.

Why wasn't Adele's house decorated? She had a tree, but that was it. Lights were strung, but not lit. Kendall pondered those questions, then wondered if he was sober enough to drive. He wasn't too sick, well nearly, but driving often cleared his head. But blood-count-wise, could he legally get behind the wheel?

He could call for a ride, but were there taxis or Lyfts in Summerland? In Memphis certainly, but that would be a long wait. Kendall gathered his keys and wallet, then stepped outside. The morning was brisk, he needed a jacket. Temperatures were similar to San Diego, maybe a little cooler. If he wasn't going to kill himself that day, he needed a coat. He got into the truck, gripping the wheel. Am I too fucked-up to drive? He started the Silverado, turned on the heater. Something about commandeering a vehicle cleared his head. He pulled out of the small parking lot, then headed toward Summerland.

After breakfast and several cups of strong coffee, Kendall asked the waitress where he could buy a jacket; did he have to go into Memphis?

She smiled, told him there were several Walmarts within forty minutes. There was also one in Bolivar, to the east, but the ones in Memphis were nicer, bigger too. Kendall thanked her, left a generous tip, then got back in his truck. He punched Bolivar Walmart into his phone and followed the directions.

The route was rural and quiet. Kendall wasn't drunk anymore, although maybe he wasn't completely sober either. He found a local country music station, which made him smile. This wasn't like driving the Mercedes in San Diego; no palm trees, concrete overpasses, or multi-lane roadways. Very few foreign cars, and he was glad for the Chevy, for it blended in with all the other trucks and pick-up's.

He reached Bolivar, which looked a little bigger than Summerland. It must be, it has a Walmart, Kendall smiled. He had never been in Walmart, which raised a chuckle. He would buy a heavier jacket, some underwear and socks, maybe some different shoes. As he got out, locking the truck, he paused. Did a man contemplating suicide purchase new underwear?

And socks, he desperately needed more socks. I need to make up my mind, and not just about my life. Christmas dinner with the Dwyers; am I going, and if so, shouldn't I bring more than my mopey self?

Shoppers passed by him, people with lives, and Christmas presents still to buy. Kendall inhaled, southern accents all around him. Wilson and Trevor's had never seemed noticeable, but here, another language was spoken, and it wasn't California English, or Spanish. It was something not quite healing, but certainly different. Putting his keys in his pocket, Kendall strode toward the entrance.

An hour later, he pushed a full cart to his truck. He had something for Sarah and her boys, for Adele, and for Sarah's brother, whose name Kendall couldn't remember, and for Tamra, but shopping for her had taken the longest; he had no idea how old she was.

Somewhere between Heath and Ben, he imagined; she had dance classes. She might be a lot older than Heath, but he seemed to have missed her, so they were probably close in age. Kendall had asked an older woman what a six-to-ten-year-old girl who took dance classes might like, and she steered him toward tights and tutus. Kendall had chosen soccer gear for Heath and Legos for Ben, but for Tamra he ended up picking out books, one about a ballerina, the other about a soccer-playing tap dancer. Adele would receive a big crossword puzzle collection, gloves and a knit hat for Tamra's dad. Sarah had been the other hard decision; after choosing Tamra's books, Kendall wandered back to the women's clothes. A light blue scarf caught his eye, more dressy than to keep warm. It was soft, and he liked it, would have chosen something similar for Natalie. He had smiled at himself, then set it on the pile. That was the last gift on the list.

He was nearly at the checkout when he remembered he would need to wrap all these items. He had turned back for tape, scissors, paper, and bows. No cards, that would be too personal. He would have to text Sarah; she had sent him one, to give him her number. All she had said was that she hoped to see him on Christmas. As he put the last bag in the cab, he pulled out his phone. Returning the cart to the front of the store, he answered that message, days old. He asked what time, and where, although he remembered she had said at her mother's. Then he put the phone in his back pocket, got into the Chevy, and headed back to Summerland.

He felt like a different man, traversing a stretch of America so far from where he'd been raised. Here he drove a truck, had short hair, a penchant for alcohol. He didn't sound like anyone else, but his credit card worked the same, driving felt the same. It felt good, and he wouldn't drink anything that day to see how that felt, and so he could explore the countryside. He didn't want to visit Memphis; the crowds at Walmart were enough. It had been busier than he'd expected, but it was the twenty-second of December. This was far away from Bakersfield last year. Here, Kendall was an altered man.

Maybe it was fair that Casey was here too, in a manner of speaking, yet neither were the same, they never would be. Shopping for Heath had been the easiest, like if Kendall bought the right equipment, Casey would come back, come home. Now Casey's home was Tennessee, but Kendall wouldn't tell Melissa, or Natalie, or anyone else. Not that they wouldn't believe him, but that for the next few.... Days, weeks, however long Kendall could take it, Casey would be all his.

Kendall reached Summerland, but didn't stop for beer or lunch. He returned to the Nearly Memphis Motel, unloaded the truck, the bed made, new towels waiting. The parking lot was empty, no one else was staying at a cheap, out-of-the-way motel right before Christmas. Kendall wrapped the gifts, putting the leftover paper and bows in the closet. Then he checked his phone; Sarah had texted.

Christmas dinner was at three p.m., at her mother's. She was glad he would join them, and she ended the text with a smiley face. Kendall wondered what that signified; that he had actually written her back, that he was planning on attending, or just.... Just that she knows what happened in my life a year ago, according to the internet. He didn't write back, but checked his email; Melissa hadn't answered him.

On Christmas Eve, Kendall had been sober for two days. He ached for a beer, which made him wince and smile. He actually called his mom, speaking with both of his parents. Brenda had started to cry, passing the phone to Chris. Kendall wished them a happy holiday, then hung up, unable to listen to his tearful mother in the background.

He left Natalie a message, emailing his siblings. He ate an early dinner at the barbecue place, then drove past Adele's house. Christmas lights were still dark, but front windows were bright. Sarah's car wasn't out front, and Kendall didn't stop.

He had no idea where the Dwyers lived, or what they were doing. He returned to downtown, which was mostly empty except for a few last-minute shoppers, all men. Kendall smiled as they rushed from store to store. At least he wasn't scurrying around.

Passing a liquor shop, he slowed, but didn't pull in. This time last year he was in Hong Kong, getting drunk at a hotel bar. Kendall drove down residential streets, many homes bright and cheery. Decorations ranged from lights to inflatable Santas on front lawns. He wondered where Sarah and her sons lived; he also wondered where Heath and Ben's father was.

Kendall wound around the small town, then pulled over along a quiet stretch of road. He didn't want to go back to the motel, that would be depressing. Maybe I don't want to kill myself, he mused, getting out, looking at a few scattered houses on the other side of the pavement. Large lots were framed by rusted-out cars and Kendall smiled, feeling a part of something very entrenched. In California, buildings were torn down, reshaping the landscape every fifteen or twenty years. Old neighborhoods were dotted with newly restructured homes, and no room existed for forty-year-old clunkers taking up space.

He gazed into a large field, similar to ones he had driven past on his way to Walmart two days ago. Shrubs and grass, small rises and dips; had this area seen Civil War battles? It must have, he considered. Kendall turned back to the houses, four of them, three with lights shining. One was all white, one was deep blue. The other was old-fashioned multi-colored bulbs, a few burnt out. The dark house was the last on the street, but it was also the only one without a dilapidated vehicle either out front or to the side.

It was lit up, behind mini-blinds, which provided a modern flair. Kendall walked along the pavement, but didn't wish to cross over. He looked back at the field, facing west. The sun was setting, but he wasn't sure of the time. Here there was no rush, not to get broken automobiles off of one's property, not to fix blown Christmas lights. Here life existed in a manner Kendall had never known.

He smiled; here there was no soccer, although that wasn't completely true, but he could feel that absence within the cooling evening air. He wore his new jacket, was glad for the extra weight. He wanted a beer, and grinned about that too. He wouldn't have one, not that night. Maybe tomorrow, after sharing Christmas dinner with virtual strangers. He knew very little about Sarah and her family. The adults probably knew all about him.

Then Kendall stared at that quiet house, hushed in relation to the holiday. Otherwise it looked busy, and he blinked; was that Sarah's car parked outside the wooden fence?

He shivered. I cannot get far enough away, he sighed. It was nearly dark, and he wondered who lived behind those mini-blinds, lit from the inside. One blind was lifted, then two more. Kendall didn't breathe. Eyes peered out, then the blinds closed. The door opened, a child emerged. "Anyone there?"

Heath's sharp voice chilled Kendall's blood. Was this karma, or just Casey, screwing with Kendall's head? Heath Dwyer stepped from the house, but Kendall couldn't see if he was smiling, the light behind him.

"Heath, close the door!" Sarah's tired shout made Kendall grimace. Distress wafted in her tone, how his mother had sounded earlier. Kendall wasn't sure if Heath could see him, but he took a small breath, letting it out very slowly.

"There's no one out there honey, come back inside."

Heath put his hand to his eyes, as if shielding an invisible sun. "I just thought I heard something Mom."

"Heath, close the door!" Ben sounded his four years. They're just children, looking for Santa, Kendall thought to himself.

The boy took one more step, then released a long sigh. A deep sorrow was projected, which Kendall felt from where he stood, across the street. Heath returned to the porch, opened the screen door, but hesitated. "Mom, someone's out there."

"Well, it's no one we know. Now close the door honey. It's cold."

With one last glance offered, Heath did as he was told. The door shut with a heavy thud, or was that Heath's heart, wishing for a reprieve. From what, Kendall wondered, still frozen. He stood there another minute, then slowly returned to his truck. But he didn't start it; Heath might hear it, then pester his mother that yes, someone had been outside.

Kendall sat in the Silverado for twenty minutes. Then a minivan pulled up in front of the house with blue lights. As passengers stepped out, Kendall turned his key, backed up, then did a three-point-turn, not passing by the Dwyer's house. Kendall did consider Casey, standing in his San Diego doorway, but here it was an eight-year-old looking for someone. Maybe his father, Kendall wondered, heading for his motel.

Kendall woke at seven, starving and wishing for a drink. He showered, dressed, then drove around Summerland, hoping to get breakfast. Not a single place was open.

He smiled, not having considered such a situation. In San Diego, even on Christmas Day, a few places would be serving something. He mulled around the idea of driving into Memphis, then looked around his room. Other than the presents and extra Christmas wrap, nothing more than clothes remained.

He surfed the internet for twenty minutes, his stomach growling the entire time. By eight, he wasn't sure if he could wait another seven hours for food. He checked his email, notes from his family and Natalie waiting. Melissa hadn't written him back, perhaps his response had been enough.

Kendall used the toilet, wondering what he could do for the next several hours; he could drive, but maybe gas stations were closed too, and the truck only had half a tank. Then his phone buzzed. Kendall stood in the bathroom doorway, noting a small flash on the bed, his tablet beside the phone. He brushed his teeth, then checked the message; it was from Sarah Dwyer: _Didn't know if you had any breakfast plans. Heath wanted me to invite you to our house._

Kendall shivered, then stared at the bagged gifts in the closet. Maybe Heath had been looking for Santa, how old were kids when they stopped believing? Perhaps kids in California were more jaded than those in Tennessee. Heath, or Casey, was looking for Kendall. Do I really want to be found?

_I'd love some coffee_ , Kendall wrote. _Where do you live?_ He didn't need that information, could return to that street by memory. The navigator hadn't led him there last night; he had just been wandering around, what he'd thought. Then he reread her message; no Merry Christmas, as if that morning was any other day, except that she knew he probably didn't realize nothing would be open. For some reason, this day wasn't a normal Christmas Day. Was that because of Kendall, or this little corner of Tennessee?

Sarah replied with an address that burned Kendall's eyes. He closed them, but Casey waited under the lids, standing like a beach bum in the doorway of an expensive San Diego mansion. Not quite a mansion in California terms, but certainly it would qualify here. Kendall opened his eyes, then wrote to Sarah: _See you soon._ Then he pounded a fist into his chest, trying to assuage that empty pit.

He put on his jacket, collecting his keys, phone, and wallet. Then he grabbed all of the presents, and turned off the light. The morning was misty, he could just see his breath. He put the gifts in the cab, then walked around to the driver's door. Then Kendall got in, heading for where Heath, Ben, and Sarah lived.

### Chapter 11

In the daylight, even through a slight drizzle, Sarah's street looked very different. Kendall parked behind her car, the field further away, also like some altered horizon. Night had played tricks; it was only a small meadow, with a few trees and outbuildings on the edges.

Two of the other three houses sported shining Christmas lights; the blue house wasn't on, which seemed good. Blue lights weren't congruous with this day, which did seem like Christmas, maybe due to the presents Kendall lugged in his right hand. He brought all of them, wasn't sure which were in what bag. Maybe Sarah's brother and niece might come over for breakfast too. Kendall sort of hoped they would.

He wouldn't mind others, although if it was only the four of them, as long as Ben wasn't too crabby, that would be okay. Kendall walked through the open wooden gate, along a brick path, moss growing between the gaps. This place was similar to Adele's, overgrown bushes framing an older house, another porch swing, but this one was suspended by new chains. Kendall cleared his throat, knocked on the door, then stood back, hoping Ben wouldn't answer it.

No worries there, as Heath was heard behind it. "He's here, he's here!" Kendall hid his smile as Heath threw open the front door, then pushed the screen door wide. "Merry Christmas Kendall, oh wow!" Heath turned back. "He brought presents!"

"Heath...." Sarah called, as Kendall gave Heath one of the bags, stepping inside the house. She smiled, dressed in jeans and a sweater, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. Ben stood at her side, a slightly curious look on his face. To Kendall, mother and son seemed even more similar, as Heath bounced around the living room.

"Merry Christmas." Kendall forced those words from his throat, but not due to his own feelings. Like Adele's, this dwelling sported no remnants of the season, save a short tree in the far corner. One wrapped gift sat under it, but new toys rested on the sofa, stockings emptied onto the floor. Those were the only evidence of the holiday, other than the gifts Kendall and Heath still carried.

Sarah set the towel over her shoulder, then approached Kendall. "You didn't have to do all this."

"You didn't have to ask me to dinner, or for coffee." He hoped there was more than coffee, which he could smell. Then his stomach rumbled.

"I have coffee cake, just Bisquick." Sarah smiled. "Heath, Ben, put these presents under the tree. We'll take them with us later."

"Can we open them now?" Heath asked, plopping the bag on the floor, then running toward Kendall.

"Don't drop them," Sarah said.

"There's nothing breakable." Giving Heath another bag, Kendall then looked at Ben, who remained behind his mother. Kendall offered the last bag, which wasn't heavy, to Ben. He took it, then scurried to the tree.

Heath poked through the bags, then smiled at his mother. "Mom, there's stuff for everyone."

"It's just a little something." Well, not so little for Heath or Ben, especially if he hates my guts. Although, Kendall wondered, maybe today he's not so adverse. "The boys can open theirs now, if they want. If that's okay," he added.

Heath returned to the tree, Ben on his heels. Sarah looked their way, then sighed. "I don't care." She gazed at Kendall. "You really didn't have to do that." Her voice was soft.

You really didn't have to ask me to dinner, or to come over this morning. "It was no big deal. Just a little something for the holiday."

She shrugged, then took the towel from her shoulder. "C'mon, coffee's waiting."

She led him into the kitchen, which was a collection of mismatched appliances, old Formica countertops, a white sink with black spots where the enamel had been chipped away. A solid wood table occupied the center of the room, and Kendall took a chair, which wobbled. He couldn't be any farther from the modern Californian kitchens where his mother and Natalie made coffee in Keurig machines. An old coffeemaker sat near the toaster, but Kendall didn't complain. "Milk or sugar?" Sarah asked, cutting him a slice of coffeecake.

"Black's fine." He inhaled the brew, also the slight sweetness of cinnamon. She set a plate in front of him, a fork alongside.

"Napkins are on the table." She grabbed a mug, sitting across. Within a minute, Heath and Ben were at her sides, pleading to open what Kendall had brought.

"You let him eat something first. Actually, both of you go get dressed."

"Aww Mom...."

"Go on."

Heath sulked from the room, Ben on his heels. Kendall plowed through the cake, and the coffee. Sarah didn't even ask, getting him seconds on both. By the time Kendall had eaten half of that slice, Heath returned in a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Ben appeared, dressed the same.

The boys flanked their mother as Kendall finished his coffee. He would finish the cake too, but wanted to take in this family. Heath truly looked like an outsider, but Kendall hadn't spotted any family photos during the short time he stood in the living room. He had noticed it was similar to Adele's, stuff everywhere, but the possessions weren't as aged. The tree, resting on a table, was much smaller than Adele's. No decorations adorned the kitchen either. Maybe this family had something against mass consumerism.

"Did you have a nice Christmas Eve?" Heath asked, once Kendall had set down his mug.

Believe it or not, I sat right across your street, watching you. "I didn't do too much."

Heath sat in the open chair to Kendall's left, as Ben squirmed onto his mother's lap. Kendall wanted another cup of coffee, but wouldn't ask now, it would just piss off Ben. Then he smiled. "How was your Christmas Eve?"

"Quiet." Heath sighed. "But I thought I heard someone outside last night."

"There wasn't anyone outside last night," Ben said.

"There was someone, I heard them."

It was me, Jesus Christ, but I didn't mean it, I was just driving around, wishing I knew what the hell was going on. Kendall finished the cake, gathering the cinnamon sugar topping with the back of his fork. "Maybe it was Santa Claus."

Did they believe, or at least Ben? Kendall grabbed a napkin, then wiped his mouth. Neither boy said anything, and Kendall felt a little nauseous. Maybe he wasn't used to actual food on an empty stomach, or maybe Sarah hadn't allowed them to believe in fairy tales.

"Well, I don't know who it was, if it was anyone." Sarah set Ben on his feet, then refilled Kendall's mug, leaving the pot on a trivet near the napkins.

"It was someone," Heath said. "But not Santa."

"Uh-huh." Kendall took a sip, just from the edge of his cup. "Well, there you go."

"There is no Santa," Ben said.

Kendall stared at the boy. He might be little, but he sure as hell isn't just four years old. Maybe he has Heath's adulthood all stored up. Casey is stealing Heath's childhood, so anything's possible. "Really? Are you sure?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm sure. Mom said so."

Sarah stared the nicked table. Then she met Kendall's eyes. "Boys, why don't you put Kendall's gifts for Grandma, Jazz, and Tamra in one bag."

"And ours?" Heath asked, not at all troubled by the Santa conundrum.

"We'll be out there in a few. Then you can open them."

Heath was already to the doorway. Ben followed.

Kendall cleared his throat. "Listen, I'm sorry, I was trying to...."

"You want more coffeecake?"

Kendall shook his head. "No, but that was wonderful, thank you so much." What am I doing here, what the hell....

Sarah sighed. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble." Well, none of _you_ were, but Tamra, jeez! "I wasn't sure how old your niece was, I got her some books."

"She just turned ten."

He smiled. "That was what I guessed." He looked back, but didn't see the boys. Yet, he could hear them, even Ben seemed intrigued. "Just some soccer stuff for Heath, and Legos for Ben." Kendall spoke in a whisper.

Sarah nodded, then stood. "Well, let's go see what they think."

Kendall grabbed his coffee, took a swig, then followed her into the living room, grabbing glances at framed photos of the boys from when they were babies, and some with who he assumed was Tamra, who looked biracial, with dark wavy curls to her shoulders.

Sarah shoved that morning's exploits to the end of the sofa, scolding the boys to get their stockings off the floor. Kendall wondered why they had stockings if they didn't believe in Santa, as Heath took an armful to his room, then returned, standing by the tree. Ben kicked various toys and candy to the side of the TV. It wasn't a flat screen, looked around twenty years old. Kendall sat in a recliner that had known better days, watching as Heath and Ben ripped into their gifts. Heath shouted at goalie's gloves and a new jersey, then beamed at another ball. "In case the other one goes flat," Kendall said.

Ben was already trying to get the box of Legos opened, then handed it to his mother. He stared at Kendall. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Heath thanked Kendall too, putting on the gloves. He clapped them, then took them off, removing the ball from the box, as Ben dumped a bag of Legos near his stash of loot. Within a minute, Heath joined his brother; Kendall had picked out a castle, which was actually for both boys to share.

The extra ball was the same; Heath and Ben had each other to play with, maybe their cousin too. Sarah gave Kendall a warm smile. "Thanks."

He nodded. "There's something for you as well."

"Oh yeah Mom, here." Heath reached for a medium-sized, flat package. He gave it to his mother, then went right back to the Legos.

"If you don't like it...." Kendall wouldn't give her the receipt. He had spent over five hundred dollars, a good chunk of that on his jacket. I hope she likes it. I'm sure she has enough tact to just accept it, then shove it in a drawer if she doesn't.

Slowly Sarah unwrapped the package. As she unwound the scarf, her hands trembled. Kendall started to feel sick again. "It was just something I saw, thought you might like it."

"What is it Mom, oh hey, that's nice." Heath gave it a perfunctory glance, then went back to Ben's side.

"What is it?" Ben asked.

"A scarf," Heath said.

"Oh," Ben said.

Neither boy discerned their mother's tears, nor that Sarah stood from the melee, leaving the room.

During the fifteen minutes their mother was gone, Heath and Ben never noticed. They had laid the castle's foundation, were starting on the walls. Kendall had stood from the recliner, awkwardly wandering around the Dwyer living room. Sarah was much like her mother in storing collectibles, and in keeping Christmas to a low profile. When Sarah stepped into the room, without the scarf, Kendall was studying a family portrait to the left of the tree. He'd had to maneuver through a glut of toys, and couldn't easily move from the spot.

He did turn her way. What in the hell am I supposed to say? "Um...."

She smiled, but her cheeks were red, as were her eyes. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

Uh-huh. "Well, I, uh...."

"Boys, take your toys to your room so Kendall doesn't break a leg."

Heath and Ben looked up, surprised at where the adults now stood. "Oh, uh, okay Mom. Sorry Kendall." Heath moved first, then Ben, both toting just a fraction of what still littered the floor.

But now Kendall could step from the photograph, which was at least five years old. Tamra and Heath were around Ben's age, and Ben wasn't included. Sarah and Adele looked the same, and two men whom Kendall had not met flanked the women. The men looked the same age; one must be Sarah's brother; was he the one with scar along his mouth?

Kendall wanted to take one more look, but didn't, tiptoeing around spilled Legos and crumpled gift wrap. He reached the coffee table, then grabbed his cup. Tepid liquid slid down his throat, but it was something to kill time. A clock on the wall, near the kitchen, read a quarter to nine. Time moved slowly in The South, or at least in Sarah Dwyer's house, Kendall thought. But I've had some coffeecake. If she decides to rescind the dinner invitation, I'll probably survive until tomorrow.

"Listen, I should tell you...." she started.

"You don't have to say anything." You know all about me, I don't need to know your past. "Thanks for the coffee and breakfast, both were delicious." The coffee had been very good, maybe those fancy machines couldn't compare to an old fashioned coffeemaker. "I should probably let you have the rest of your morning in peace and...."

Tears hovered in the corners of her eyes. If she blinks, Kendall thought, the flood will go. I should go. I really shouldn't be here.

Heath and Ben shouted from the back of the house and Sarah turned that way. To Kendall, Casey was back there too, arguing about who was going to play goalie. He was probably that squawky when he was young, all those brothers to drown out. Kendall quietly cleared his throat. "Well, I'll let you tend to that. Again, thanks so much."

"Why're you here?"

Kendall looked up, Sarah's face wet with tears. "I don't really know." He smiled. "Just trying to...."

Run away, stay hidden. I thought it was going to be easy in The United States, some place far from the beaten path. But my best friend is right in the next room, maybe I was kidding myself. Maybe no place is safe.

"You don't look a thing like your pictures." She almost laughed. Then she sighed. "Boys, that's enough!"

Voices were stilled, and Kendall smiled. "You have some really great kids."

She took two steps his way. "Their father's dead."

Which one is he? One of those men in that picture, I'm sure of it, probably the one standing next to you. If the other one is your brother, well, he doesn't look like you or Ben or your mom. Kendall fought the urge to turn around. The one standing beside you doesn't look like Heath though. Or maybe he does, but I couldn't see it. If I turn around now, will I see it, Heath and his father?

Sarah pointed to the picture. "That was taken right after I got pregnant with Ben. It's me, Mom, Jazz, Heath, Tamra, and Jimmy." She wiped her face. "He died two years ago. Heath was outside looking for him last night. Sometimes he still does that, like Jimmy's gonna surprise him."

Now Kendall faced that photograph; Jimmy Dwyer had changed, as if just moments before he was non-descript. But Sarah was right; standing beside her was Heath as an adult. Large brown eyes, brown hair, Heath's smile. I didn't want to see it, just like I can't help but see Casey in Heath.

Kendall noted the other man had blue eyes, but his face was wider, his nose not as sharp. Tamra looked like her dad, except for her coloring. She and Heath held hands, grinning for the camera. Kendall turned back to Sarah, who clasped her hands together. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"I know you are. I know who you are too."

"Well, then I guess you know I really am sorry."

She nodded. "Why are you here?"

Her voice was odd, like asking him more than he could tell her. "Like I said, a couple of my former teammates live in The South. I just needed some space and...."

She grasped his hand, stirring a shock that made Kendall step back. Her squeeze was like that night at dinner, how she knew him, but not only from what the internet revealed. "Were you outside, last night? Was that you?"

It was me, but you're not asking if it was me as Kendall Schultz. You're asking.... He swallowed. "I was just driving around, I didn't wanna go back to my motel. I had no idea this was your house, I just ended up here and...."

Absently she caressed his face; her palm was warm against his cheek, now covered by a thin beard. Maybe it's not scratchy anymore, maybe.... "Sarah, I know this probably looks sorta weird, I mean, running into the kids and now ending up at your house, but I swear to God I was just driving around, I was just...."

She removed her hand from his face, then cleared her throat. "He gave me a scarf, a blue scarf. Actually, I found it when I was clearing out his side of the closet. That, two blouses, and a...." She choked, then continued. "A necklace, they were all in a bag, stuff he'd bought for Christmas for me. I didn't get around to going through it until, God, May, June maybe. Mom was here when I found it all." Sarah wrung her hands together. "We gave the blouses to Goodwill, they still had the tags on them. Mom took the necklace back to the store, the receipt was there, she explained what happened, and they gave her a full refund. But the scarf, the scarf...."

Kendall's rib cage heaved in and out, but he took very small breaths. Maybe if I stop breathing, she'll stop talking. But she can't, just like I couldn't walk away from kids kicking a flat soccer ball. Why do we do these things to ourselves, why can't we just....

He gripped one of her hands. "What'd you do with the scarf?"

Sarah smiled, tears pouring down her face. "I kept it until last year, he'd been gone a year. He died the same day your friend Casey did." Moving from Kendall's grasp, she reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table, then blew her nose. "But a year before. This time last year was Jimmy's first year anniversary, or whatever they're called. When I read that, after Mom told me, I wondered why you were here. The same day your friend died, I tied that scarf to a tree near where he was hit." She stopped talking, getting another tissue. This time she blew with force, then balled it up, using it to dab at her eyes. "He died just like your friend, hit by a drunk. Less than ten days before Christmas, I lost my husband. Ben was two and a half, doesn't remember him. Heath was six and a half, recalls more about Jimmy than sometimes I think's possible. He remembers him, looks just like him." She cupped Kendall's jaw, then through his beard, she traced his scar. "You look a lot like Jimmy too."

When Heath and Ben peeked around the corner of the hallway, their mother was sitting on the sofa, Kendall beside her. Heath led the brothers into the living room, where wadded tissues made a pile near Sarah's feet.

"Mom, are you okay?" Heath knelt down, but not on the tissues.

She nodded, then ruffled his hair. Heath shook, then looked at Kendall.

Kendall glanced at the photograph, then to Casey, if what Sarah alluded to could actually happen. I've been thinking Casey is Heath since I met him, so maybe she can assume I'm her late husband. Kendall didn't think he looked much like Jimmy Dwyer, or Heath Dwyer. Brown hair and eyes, okay, sure. He was chunky, I am now. Jimmy Dwyer didn't have a mark on his chin, but a small jagged line ran along the left side of his mouth. Sarah hadn't said how he got it, but probably not from playing soccer as Kendall had.

"Mom, are we still going to Grandma's house?" Heath looked at the unopened presents.

"Of course honey."

Then Heath gazed at Kendall. "Are you coming too?"

I have no clue. "Uh, well...."

"Heath, call Grandma and ask if she minds if we come over a little later. But that if she needs help, we'll be there at ten."

"Ask Grandma if we can be there later, but we can go early." Heath said it slowly, like how he had told Kendall his mother was a dental hygienist. Heath hadn't mentioned his mom was also a widow; maybe after two years, his dead father wasn't big news anymore.

Kendall watched as Heath and Ben headed to the kitchen. Sarah seemed to watch them too. Then she looked at Kendall. "You don't have to stay. It's really okay."

It's really okay huh? Kendall smiled. "Sarah, I...." I have no idea what's okay anymore. You lost your husband right before Christmas, just like Melissa. Did she find any hidden gifts? Probably not, as they had taken everything to the ranch. But she had to go back to San Diego to box up all those Christmas decorations, or maybe someone did it for her. What did she do with those pieces of her life? She had to close it down, but you lived here, didn't move away. And months later, you cleared out his clothes, but found clothes that he was going to give you for Christmas. God, I hope to hell Melissa didn't find anything that.... Cruel, morbid, devastating. Kendall wasn't sure which woman had it harder; Melissa without Casey's baby, or Sarah with Jimmy's two sons, one of whom looked just like his late father. "Maybe I should let you and the boys...."

She nodded, then stared at him. "You don't look _just_ like him, maybe it's your coloring. And this." Gently she touched his chin. "How'd you get it?"

He smiled, one piece of trivia not on his Wikipedia page. "I was playing goalie when I was seventeen, diving for a ball. My chin caught the edge of the goal, the metal part."

"Oh my God. Did it hurt?"

Not as badly as this. "Stung for a while. But I recovered."

I healed from that injury, but Casey went deeper than what stitches can mend. Yet, Sarah lost her husband, Melissa too, and they seem okay. Why am I having such a hard time?

Because it's not just Casey. Because.... Kendall winced as Sarah squeezed his hand. Shit, she knows, she knows! Please let go, please let _me_ go. I'm not your husband, not their father....

"I should let you go." But she didn't, gripping hard. Kendall grasped back, then put his other hand over hers.

Neither of us is very good at this, Christ. "I didn't mean to come here, I didn't mean to...."

"I know. Sometimes it just works out like this."

"Yeah?" Like déjà vu or people getting reincarnated? If I was your late husband, I think I'd know it.

Sarah released Kendall's hand, then stood from the sofa. "Thank you for the scarf. It's really...." She sighed, then smiled. "Beautiful."

"You can tie it to a tree if you want." Or hang me with it, that would work too.

She giggled. "Actually, I think I'll wear it to dinner."

Is that some sort of dare? "It matches your eyes."

She gazed at him and he blinked. "Yeah, it does. The other one didn't."

But _he_ bought you the other one. I just found something at Walmart that made you cry a river. Kendall stood, the room quiet except for Heath's floating murmurs, traveling from the kitchen. "Thanks for breakfast. And the coffee."

She nodded, then walked to the tree. "I have something for you, if you want it."

Kendall inhaled. "Well, uh...."

She handed him the last present. "It's just some things I saw a couple of days ago. I was hoping you'd join us today." She frowned, then chuckled. "Maybe it's a parting gift."

He gazed at her eyes, which were bloodshot. She probably looked the same this time last year, thinking about that scarf, those blouses, that necklace. What kind of necklace, a gold chain, a diamond? How did he die, pinned in his car like Casey, bleeding to death? Christ, just open the box Schultz!

Kendall smiled, Herm Schlatter's voice in his head. Tearing the paper, Kendall found a plain men's shirt box. He removed the top, unfolded the tissue paper. Inside were magnets, all Tennessee-themed. He had seen similar ones at the Walmart in Bolivar, of Graceland and the Titans and the Vols. Five in all, including two from Nashville, and Kendall fingered each one.

"Mom, Grandma says to take your time."

Both Sarah and Kendall looked toward the kitchen, Heath's voice like a thunderclap. Then Kendall stared at the magnets. Something had drawn him here, that was undeniable. He sighed. "What do you eat for Christmas?"

"Ham, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, and cornbread. Sometimes fruit salad, if Jazz's feeling helpful. Tamra likes it, she might've bugged him into making it."

"I'd like to meet them."

"I'd like you to meet them." Sarah stared at the floor, then into Kendall's eyes. "I don't know if Jazz'll see it, or Tamra. Maybe."

Kendall nodded, wondering if Sarah was the only one aware of the other issue. She took the box, setting it on the coffee table. Then she grasped his hands. "It's not that obvious, maybe just to me, well, Mom said she saw it right off, said she was surprised Heath didn't notice."

As long as no one realizes I'm not really alive, I don't care what they think. "I don't wanna cause any...." Pain, issues, actually, I think I'd like to go back to the motel and never come out. He sighed. No liquor stores would be open. Coffeecake would hold him for another couple of hours. In another couple of hours....

"Kendall, are you still coming to Grandma's for dinner?"

Heath's voice cracked one of Kendall's ribs. "Uh, sure. Of course." What the hell am I saying? I need to go to a hospital, going to require more stitches than what they put in my chin!

"Are you sure?" Sarah said softly, still holding his hand.

"Do you want me to?"

She nodded, then bit her lip. "But only...."

He closed his eyes. "You don't have to wear the scarf."

"I need to eventually."

Kendall opened his eyes. "Do you?"

"We all do, when the time is right." Sarah released his hands, then walked into the kitchen. "Heath, is Grandma still on the line?"

Sarah walked away, taking the phone from Heath. Ben peered around the doorway, catching Kendall's eyes. The boy offered a small grin, then slipped back into the kitchen, as his mother confirmed that Kendall would be joining them that afternoon.

### Chapter 12

Tamra Jean Hood was astounded when her father Jasper, or Jazz as he was known by all, told her that a famous soccer player might be coming for Christmas dinner with Aunt Sarah, Heath, and Ben. Curious about this Kendall Schultz, Tamra read all about him on her grandmother's computer, when she wasn't playing with her cousins.

Tamra was a year and a half older than Heath, but like Heath, she was being raised in a one-parent household, and she remembered her mother. As Tamra read all about Kendall Christopher Schultz, she wondered that if her mother Savannah had a Wikipedia page, would it read as dramatically as this soccer player from San Diego, California. Or at least his _Personal Life_ was pretty interesting.

The only relatives Tamra had were on her father's side; at seventeen, Savannah Mayhew had run away from home, which had been Chicago, making her way south where distant cousins lived. Jazz had met her three years later, and a year after that, Tamra was born. They married when Tamra was six months old; these details were like what Tamra read about Kendall, that he had played soccer in Spain for two years when he was her mother's age when Tamra was born. Such different lives people lived, the girl thought, reading how Kendall came back to The United States, to his hometown of San Diego. Tamra wanted to visit California, and wondered why anyone who had been born and raised there would want to be in Tennessee.

Tamra and Jazz arrived at Adele's with fruit salad that a daughter had indeed bullied her father into making. Tamra was disappointed that her Aunt Sarah and cousins and Kendall Schultz weren't there yet, then Adele told Jazz that Sarah might be a little late. Late was relative; dinner was at three, but usually both of Adele's children got to her house before noon. The grandchildren would open presents, then spend the next few hours watching TV or playing outside with other kids, whom they knew well. As Tamra knew all about how her Uncle Jimmy had died, and now about this Kendall Schultz, everyone knew how her mother had run off, leaving behind a distraught husband and confused little girl.

As Jazz and Adele discussed Sarah and Kendall, Tamra sat in front of her grandmother's aged computer, scouring the internet for anything new about Kendall Schultz. The machine was so slow, but maybe that was just Grandma's internet provider. Tamra loved surfing the web, but at home a tablet was turned off until Jazz powered it up, and only he knew the password. At Grandma's, as long as Tamra was patient, she could read all she wanted about whatever she liked. She hadn't missed the one-sided conversations her dad and grandmother shared about this soccer player, whom Adele initially had feared might be a pedophile. Once she knew his name, her only worry was in how much he resembled Sarah's late husband.

Adele Hood hadn't cared about Kendall's sporting past, but she was intrigued by the unbelievable coincidence that her late son-in-law had been killed one year to the day that Kendall's friend and teammate had died. Tamra remembered last year's miserable Christmas, the second without Uncle Jimmy. The one before was blocked from her memory, when he had just been killed. And she didn't recall the year before that either.

To Tamra, Christmas was a hazy bliss when she was very small, her entire family intact. She had been too young to note the tensions between her parents, or when Aunt Sarah had suffered a miscarriage when Heath was a toddler, or how Uncle Jimmy never watched football, the Vols or the Titans. Then Christmas had disappeared. Now it had returned, but perhaps this year it would be enjoyable, or at least a holiday she wouldn't need to blot from consciousness.

Having grown bored with the computer, Tamra sat on the sofa, staring out at the front yard. While waiting for the rest of her family, Tamra concentrated on the house across, the Turners' lights twinkling in the soft rain. When Aunt Sarah's car parked behind Jazz's truck, Tamra jumped from the couch, ran to the front door, then waited as Adele stepped from the kitchen. "Give them a minute Tam."

Tamra tapped her foot, nodding dutifully. "Yes, Grandma." Now she couldn't see if anyone else had followed.

As soon as Adele returned to the kitchen, Tamra flung open the door, then pushed aside the screen. She was to the porch steps as Kendall stepped from his truck. Then Tamra caught sight of Heath, a bag in his hands. "Hey Tamra, look at what we got!"

She met him on the concrete path, taking the bag. Presents from Aunt Sarah were already under the tree. Heath didn't need to say who these were from, but Tamra asked anyways, trying not to stare at the man, now standing beside her aunt. "Are these from him?"

Heath nodded, a big smile on his face. "We opened ours already. There's even something for Grandma and Uncle Jazz."

Tamra peeked in the bag; her name was attached to what looked like books. Tamra liked to read, especially about dance. She took tap and ballet from Mrs. Anderson, had since she was four. Her mother had started the lessons, and after Savannah left, Jazz kept paying for them. Mrs. Anderson lived two blocks from Adele's house, and Tamra walked there after school twice a week.

"What'd you get?" Tamra asked, as she and Heath walked up the steps.

"Goalie gloves and another ball. Ben got a Lego castle. We put most of it together already."

Tamra nodded. Heath was crazy about soccer; Uncle Jimmy had introduced that game when Heath was little. As they reached the front door, Tamra looked back. Aunt Sarah wore a pretty blue scarf, carrying a pie in one hand, Ben holding her other. Kendall Schultz walked behind them. Tamra squinted; he didn't look like Uncle Jimmy or an athlete. He looked like all the other men she knew, a beer gut and short hair. Her curiosity satisfied, she shrugged, then followed Heath into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

After one beer, Kendall didn't feel quite so out of place, Jazz having one too. After the second, Kendall declined a third. He wasn't sure how long he would stay, and didn't want to court disaster.

Little fallout was felt in Adele's house, other than long stares from Sarah's brother Jazz, a few medium-length gazes from her mother. Tamra caught his eyes every so often, after thanking him profusely for the books. Adele asked how Kendall knew that Tamra liked books, especially ones about dance. Heath rescued the odd silence, that Grandma had mentioned Tamra was in dance class the afternoon Kendall bought the soccer balls. Kendall glanced at Sarah, then looked at Adele. Then he smiled, stood, and stepped outside.

Rain was still falling; the air felt like San Diego, but only the sense of humidity was the same. Houses all along Adele's street were lit, and he stared at the dark lights dangling from the awning. How long had they hung there, how many years since they had been turned on? Kendall didn't know anything about Tamra's mother, but for three straight Christmases, a dark pall had hovered over this family. Kendall wished he had his heavy jacket; it was in his truck, which was covered in a fine mist. The windshield sparkled in blues, yellows, reds, and greens from lights across the street. All of Adele's neighbors knew what had happened to this family two years ago, but life went on.

The door opened, then the screen squeaked. Kendall turned around, Sarah coming through. "It's nearly time to eat."

He nodded. How long had he stood outside, it didn't feel like they were in any rush when he stepped out, but maybe here time was fluid; it moved quickly one minute, like molasses the next. He smiled. Molasses was southern in nature, why did he think of it? Was he morphing into some Bible belt version of himself; would he wake up tomorrow with a languid drawl?

Sarah came to his side. "Tamra really loves those books."

It was just a fluke, honestly. "Yeah, she was cute, telling me thanks."

Sarah adjusted her scarf, then stared across the street. "The Turners have always had a big display. This is the first year in a few that they've put everything out. It's nice to see."

Kendall faced her, then he pointed to the awning. "When was the last time these lights were on?"

Not like it's any of my business, but you all know about me, well, Heath and Ben don't, but Tamra does. I could see it in her eyes; she has her grandmother's eyes, her father's eyes. Blue eyes make her look more knowledgeable than a ten-year-old should be. Or maybe it's being a girl, or just that she's a little older than Heath. "I'm sorry, stupid question."

Sarah sighed. "Three years ago Tamra's mother died. They haven't been on since then."

Jesus Christ! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...."

"You know, it's really not fair." Sarah scuffed her shoe along the floorboards. "We can look up your entire life, backtrack all we want. All you know is what you see." She gazed at the dark lights, then to the Turners'. Then she looked at Kendall. "Her mom was murdered in Florida. Savannah had left Jazz the year before, then some boyfriend killed her right before Thanksgiving. Everyone knows, I mean, you can't hide anything in a small town. That year the Turners, and most everybody along this street, toned it down. Then the next year, Jimmy died. But that was ten days before Christmas, so people didn't know if they should take stuff down or what. Last year, the Turners just had house lights, it was respectful. But it's been two years." Again Sarah gazed at her mother's dark lights. "You know, I think I'm gonna turn them on." She smiled at Kendall. "Between that and your truck, there'll be plenty to talk about."

She walked toward the porch swing, then squatted near the corner. Lights flashed, a few pops followed. Kendall looked overhead; most of the bulbs worked.

Sarah rejoined him, staring along the awning. "No use having them up there if we're not gonna turn 'em on." She smiled, grasping his hand. "Hungry?"

He nodded, gripping her fingers. The soft glow was comforting. "Better not keep them waiting."

"Better not." Then Sarah released his hand. Kendall followed her into the house, where Heath was telling his grandmother that the outside lights were on.

Dinner conversation was limited, in that all were busy eating. Kendall had two helpings of everything, a meal unlike what would be served later that day at his parents' house. He wasn't sure where Natalie and Dr. Ron were dining, but at the Schultz residence it was a green salad followed by prime rib, baked potatoes, and steamed broccoli. Some sort of berry compote, with hand-whipped whipped cream, would follow, Belgian chocolates on the side. Brenda served the same dishes every Christmas, but Kendall thought Adele's ham was just as good.

Sarah and her mother cleared the table, Tamra roped in to assist. She weaseled out of doing dishes, watching TV with her father, Heath, and Ben. Kendall didn't feel comfortable sitting with Jazz and the kids, and certainly wasn't going to impose upon the women's domain. He used the toilet, then stepped out the front door. It was nearly dark, rain coming down with purpose. But the lights provided small warmth, or maybe it was just that now Adele's porch didn't look so gloomy. Kendall thought about the last time these lights shone; Tamra's mother had left, but wasn't dead. Jazz didn't seem overly affected, in that he was as chatty as one might expect. What had Kendall expected in coming here today?

He had anticipated far more interest in himself, but after those initial once-overs by Jazz and Tamra, basically they left him alone. Adele had looked him over, but not as a possible predator, only as another survivor. Shit happened all the time, people were killed every single year.

Every day someone bought the farm, but the Turners didn't tone down their display. Maybe they'd had enough of the all sorrow across from them. Kendall wondered what had happened to Sarah and Jazz's father, but maybe he knew enough for now. Maybe, if he was smart, he would pack up that night, find somewhere else to.... Live, exist, disappear? Sarah and her family weren't given that opportunity, not when Tamra's mother took off, or the following year when she was murdered, or the year after that when Jimmy died. Year after year, and Kendall swallowed, wishing for a beer.

Gently he sat on the porch swing; it seemed willing to support him. Creaks and groans followed as he swayed back and forth, considering his options. He could leave, no one was begging him to stay. They had merely asked him to dinner, and for breakfast, and told him about many unpleasant incidences. He hadn't needed to share anything, other than how he got his scar.

He smiled, then rubbed that spot on his chin. It had hurt for ages, and he'd never played goalie again. Brenda and Chris had considered taking him to a plastic surgeon, but Kendall liked it, felt he had earned it. Natalie told him it made him look weathered, giving his otherwise handsome face a toughness that usually wasn't associated with soccer. Footballers were known for longevity; as long as the legs held up, knees not buckling, he could have expected a lengthy career.

And if he had been a goalie, it could have lasted longer; sometimes they played into their forties, but Kendall had quit at thirty, and for as full as he felt, he couldn't imagine doing any more than swinging to and fro on Adele's porch, staring at the gaudy extravaganza across the street. An older man stepped onto the Turners' porch, eyeing his domain. He stared at Kendall, the distance wasn't far. Kendall nodded as though he had lived here all his life. The man nodded back, spat over the railing, but not in the direction of the decorations. Then he went back into his house. What sort of gossip might he have to share?

Some stranger in these parts, Kendall smiled to himself. Or was he that odd? Maybe he was Jimmy Dwyer come back to life, minus the accent, the scar moved slightly. How did Jimmy get that mark, why did Savannah leave her husband and daughter? How in the hell did any of this make any amount of sense?

I need a beer, three or four of them, then Kendall sighed. Not even alcohol would explain that day, or the last twelve months, or more. That thought made his chest ache. He had felt lost for longer than just the year Casey had been dead, or had been missing. Casey was inside, sitting with Ben, Tamra, and Jazz. Casey was Heath Dwyer and Kendall was Heath's father and....

The pain started in the center of Kendall's body, racing into his arms, slamming into his fingertips. Then it shot back through his upper limbs, into his legs and feet, again pounding the tips of his lowest extremities. It bounded back up, into his genitals, lingering for a few seconds. Then it bolted northward into his brain, falling with a pummeling crash into Kendall's empty rib cage. He leaned over his legs, trying to inhale, feeling as sick as he had in the Atlanta Hilton or at the Bakersfield Marriott. But he'd only had two beers, maybe he needed more. Maybe he needed to flee this state, these people, but to where? Where else was there for him to go?

He didn't hear Sarah step his way, wasn't aware of her until she was squatting in front of him. "Kendall, are you okay?"

Her accent was amplified, or maybe it was Melba. Maybe he was back in Atlanta, before he'd bought the Avalanche, before he stepped foot onto Tennessee soil. As Sarah kept asking if he was okay, he knew this wasn't Bakersfield, Sarah's soft, slow cadence not sounding at all like Natalie. He looked up, wishing to vomit, but it wasn't the dinner that had made him so sick.

Sarah stroked his face. "You look horrible. You wanna lay down?"

He shook his head. Air was hard to find, that dead emptiness in his chest like a pillow held over his face. He gasped, slivers of oxygen just teasing his lungs. His lungs and legs weren't fit anymore. He blinked; Sarah was bathed in various primary hues. At least his eyes still worked.

Then she was gone, and he gripped the sides of the seat, the wood rough under his fingers. Did anyone sit here anymore? Had Sarah and Jimmy swung here, or Tamra and her mother? Or Tamra's mother and father? Kendall tried to distance himself from where he was, but it wouldn't have mattered if this was Bakersfield or Hong Kong or Lisbon or fucking San Diego. Then Sarah reappeared with a glass of water. "Drink this," she ordered, setting the glass to his lips.

He looked up. Natalie had done nearly the same after Casey's funeral, Melba had looked after him in Atlanta. Women kept trying to reach him, and Kendall took small sips, wondering if he was losing his grip.

"It's a lot, I know," Sarah said. "After Savannah left, Jazz wondered if he was gonna survive. Then she died, and he about did too. He still loves her, or some part of her, but I didn't understand how he could until Jimmy was hit."

Kendall took a deep breath, most of the oxygen landing in the proper place. But he couldn't speak, concentrating on his breathing.

"We were just getting used to Savannah being gone, then she was killed." Sarah sighed. "Jazz knew she wasn't coming back, was trying to adjust to that, and that she didn't want anything to do with Tamra." Sarah's voice went to a whisper, and she put the glass to Kendall's mouth.

He drank about half, then leaned back. How in the hell are any of you even standing, he wanted to ask. His chest still ached, his limbs tingly.

Sarah sat beside him, still holding the glass. "What're you gonna do?"

You mean right now? Or tomorrow or.... I have no idea, just hoping I can get back to the motel in one piece. "Uh, I dunno."

She patted his leg. "I suppose if you decide to leave, it's understandable." She looked at him. "The kids'll get over it, so don't worry about them."

"Why'd you tell them there's no Santa?" He had wondered about that, when not inundated with everything else he had learned. "They had stockings, I just...."

She stared at the lights, then toward the lawn. "Last year I wasn't sure if I was gonna get a tree." She looked at Kendall. "I ended up not getting one, I just couldn't, but Mom did. Heath and Ben helped her decorate hers, Tam did too, and when I came to get the boys, oh my God." Sarah stood, then crossed her arms over her chest, gazing into the darkness.

"I came in the house, and they were so excited, wanting to show off all they'd done. Tam was quiet, I mean, she's just enough older than Heath to know better. But to Heath and Ben, it was just Christmas." Sarah faced Kendall. "They didn't associate it with anything bad, they didn't remember the year before. But I couldn't stop myself. I told them there wasn't a Santa, there wasn't reindeer, that it meant nothing. I don't know if Tamra had any idea, but the boys just stood there, mouths open, then Heath started crying, and by then, it was too late. I was just so sick of everyone around me being pissed off about everything. Christmas is supposed to be happy, but you know, mostly it seems like people are worried about money and getting the right gifts, and trying to make a big deal out of what's supposed to be something very sacred. And what'd I do? I ruined it for my sons and my niece. Then I opened my big mouth some more, no Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy, oh God, Jazz was so mad at me." She had a bitter laugh. "Although later he thanked me. He wasn't gonna have to tell Tamra himself."

All of Kendall's pain drained away. He stood, then stepped close to Sarah. Am I your husband reincarnated? Who are you, what has happened? Kendall turned her his way. Tears fell down her face. He wiped her cheeks. "I am so, so sorry."

She nodded. "Heath's either forgotten it or forgiven me, or something. Tamra acts like she knew it already. But Ben...." Sarah shook her head. "He used to be the sweetest little boy, just like Heath. He didn't remember his dad, which I always thought was gonna be awful. But what's really the worst is that I, I...."

Kendall embraced her. "You didn't mean it, you were just trying to...." Survive. I know exactly how you feel; I just shat all over my family. But they are adults. Kendall took a breath, then kissed the top of Sarah's head.

She nodded, then pulled away. "Are you gonna leave?"

If I knew what was good for me, hell yes. He shook his head, brushing liquid along her cheeks. "We're human, we make mistakes." Does that mean I forgive the drunk bastard who killed Casey? Hmmm. I'm not sure. Will my family forgive me, will Ben forgive his mother, or Tamra her mom? Good lord, what the hell's going on?

"Mom, Kendall, Grandma's getting out dessert!"

Sarah looked toward her eldest. "We'll be there in a minute."

"Okay." Heath closed the door.

All Kendall could hear was the rain, then Sarah's small breaths. What do to, what do to, he mused. Then he closed his eyes as Sarah grasped his hand. "Maybe you should go while the getting's good."

Her voice was soft and sad. He knew it was the last thing she wanted.

To his surprise, it was also the last thing he desired. "What's for dessert?" he asked, opening his eyes.

"Jell-O poke cake. You ever had it?"

"No," he smiled. "Any alcohol in it?"

"No, but I could use a drink." She chuckled, then explained how her mother baked a two-layer white cake, then poked holes into both layers, pouring green gelatin over one, red gelatin over the other. After they were set, she removed them from the pans and layered them, frosting the whole thing with Cool-Whip. "It's what she makes every year."

To Kendall it sounded like a recipe for a diabetic coma. "Can I have some coffee with it?"

"Sure," Sarah laughed. "Decaf okay?"

"Sure." Then Kendall sighed. "If I stay, what happens?"

Her lips trembled. "I don't know."

Neither do I, but I can't imagine what could be worse than everything else that's occurred. "I don't know anything more than standing here right now." Then he smiled. "Well, I might go into diabetic shock after dessert. But other than that...."

She squeezed his hand. "We can deal with tomorrow in the morning."

His eyes grew wide. Was she asking him to stay with her and the boys? "Uh, well, sure, I mean...."

"The reason I stepped out, besides to check on you, was that Heath asked if you could sleep at our house tonight. On the sofa," she smiled. "I'd told him I wanted to hit the after Christmas sales early, and he wanted to know if you could come with us. But you weren't in any shape to answer questions when I came out here."

I don't know if I'm in any better shape now. But will I be in worse shape after a slice of Jell-O poke cake? "What'll your neighbors think?"

Sarah had a small giggle, which grew into a belly laugh. Then she gazed at the Turners. "You know what? I don't care what anyone thinks. God knows we've given this town plenty to discuss over the last three or four years. At least you won't be about death."

Kendall smiled, then grasped her hand. She's warm, and honest. And she knows, because she feels the exact same, that something is beyond repair. He nodded, then squeezed her fingers. "You going into Memphis or...."

"No, just the Walmart over in Bolivar. Crowds will be bad enough there."

"Mom!" Heath called from the front door.

"We're coming," Sarah said, staring at Kendall.

He nodded, then stroked her splotchy, damp face. "I'd love to not spend the night at the Nearly Memphis Motel."

"Good." She cleared her throat, but didn't release his hand. Then she turned for the door, leading Kendall inside.

### Chapter 13

On New Year's Day Kendall woke like he had for the last six days; to the scent of Sarah's fragrant coffee and the sounds of her boisterous children. Boys tried to restrain themselves, but even Ben had a hard time resisting as Kendall's presence warmed the house. Kendall still had his room at the Nearly Memphis Motel, but for all intents, he was living with Sarah, Heath, and Ben. Each morning, Ben stood near Kendall's head, waiting for the man to wake. Each morning, since Christmas Day, after taking in the aromatic coffee and children's voices, Kendall's first visual was of a four-year-old's hopeful smile.

"Good morning Ben." Kendall cleared his throat, feeling a little rougher than the last six days. That was due to the beers shared last night with Sarah and Jazz, sitting on Sarah's front porch as one year slipped away, another lying in wait, much like Ben. Kendall sighed; this year was starting off looking like an expectant, innocent child, even if a hangover lingered.

"Good morning Kendall." Ben tried to hide his grin, then crossed his arms, staring at the floor. "You've been asleep a long time."

"Ben, leave him alone."

"No, it's okay." It's exactly what I deserve for tying one on last night, Kendall thought while sitting up, pulling an old quilt over his chest. He ached to pat his legs, wishing Ben would join him, then lay along Kendall as if they were related. Kendall ignored what that truly meant; it only meant that he wanted Ben to admit he wasn't a bad guy, wasn't a stranger. That morning, Ben looked very close to jumping on Kendall's lap, but more to punish Kendall for sleeping in, and for getting drunk with Jazz. "You got drunk with Uncle Jazz last night, didn't you?" Ben said.

"Ben!"

Sarah yelled, but not loudly, only her tone was sharp. Ben huffed, then slowly headed to the kitchen. Once he was gone, Kendall had a sore smile. His head ached, his stomach felt woozy, but the coffee smelled so good. He looked up; Sarah stood over him, a mug in her hand. "You okay?" she asked.

Kendall nodded. "Yeah, thanks." He grasped the cup, sipping from the edges. Warm and smooth and healing; coffee in California had never tasted this perfect, or so necessary. He drank a little, then set the mug on the coffee table. "What time is it?"

She smiled. "Almost nine."

"Oh man, I'm sorry." The boys usually stirred around seven, and until that morning, so had Kendall. Sarah had worked a few days, taking them to her mother's, leaving Kendall to shower and eat breakfast. Then he had driven to the motel, finding the bed still made, the towels still waiting. Yet, Sarah had insisted he stay with them, maybe for his mental health, maybe for hers. She'd had the last few days off, and they had spent time with her family, also driving around, in her car. He paid for the gas, and the few meals they ate out. But she hadn't taken any money for groceries, and Jazz had brought last night's beer. Tamra was spending the night with friends, Jazz had said, giving Kendall a bottle. The men had finished one six-pack before Heath and Ben went to bed, then the other was completed with Sarah's assistance. Kendall did recall midnight, then walking the short distance to Sarah's sagging but comfortable sofa. He had heard her and Jazz wishing each other a good new year; Sarah told her brother to text when he got home. Jazz had driven under the influence, and Kendall assumed Sarah had received his text. "Did Jazz get home okay?"

She nodded, pulling up a chair that hadn't been a part of the living room furnishings when Kendall first visited this house seven days ago. But it had moved to that spot, near the wall; Sarah used it just for these moments as Kendall woke.

"Jazz's fine, well, probably looks about like you." Then she smiled. "You need a hair of the dog, or just more joe?"

The thought of beer made him dizzy. "This's fine." He reached for the mug, and she steadied his grip, which only made him weaker. Their eyes met, and she blinked, then she released his hand.

Kendall drank half, putting the cup back on a coaster. Then he got up, shaking his legs. The sofa was adequate but short. "I'll be right back."

She stood, walking to the kitchen. "Take your time. You hungry?"

"Toast please," he called, reaching the bathroom.

Kendall sat across from Sarah, Ben to his right, Heath to his left. The last two mornings were like this, although not this late. Kendall didn't wonder what it meant, other than he wasn't alone, and neither was this family.

What did a father-figure sitting at their table mean to Sarah's sons? Kendall allowed that, because that's all he was, some pseudo-Jimmy Dwyer. Kendall held no longings to be intimate with Sarah, or to be a dad to Heath and Ben, even if Ben was more cordial than before. He hadn't stuck his tongue out at Kendall for days, not even in jest. Although, if any four-year-old could proffer sarcasm and wit, it would be Ben Dwyer.

Heath didn't have a cynical bone, but then Casey hadn't either. Kendall had written to Melissa yesterday, as she had finally answered him a few days previously. Her oldest sister couldn't get pregnant, and while Melissa had offered to be a surrogate before, personal desires had intruded. Then tragedy struck, but at least someone was benefiting.

Kendall stared at his companions. They weren't his family, he wasn't theirs. Kendall was just some strange Christmas border, like a tramp allowed in due to the time of year. But now it was January first, and he felt change was afoot. The boys would be back in school the day after tomorrow; Heath was in third grade, Ben at day care. Sarah had worked part-time after Ben was six months old, then full-time when Jimmy died. Kendall knew a few more particulars, none overtly tragic. Just how a family picked itself up, regardless of the circumstances.

He knew that Savannah had still been around when that family photo hanging on Sarah's wall was taken. But Savannah had begged off, claiming she was sick. Sarah told Kendall it was a year before she left, like Savannah was preparing them for her eventual absence. Sarah also told Kendall why four years separated her sons; she'd had a miscarriage when Heath was thirteen months old. She and Jimmy had planned that baby, but at seven weeks she lost it for no reason other than it wasn't meant to be. She said it as how she told him that Savannah had chosen not to participate in the family photograph; small potatoes when compared to what waited.

Sarah wasn't bitter, never projected remorse. She didn't want his pity over a miscarriage or her late husband. What did she want, Kendall permitted himself, while toast and coffee was enjoyed at a family's kitchen table. Sarah had retrieved the chair from the living room while Kendall was in the bathroom. The chair went back and forth, like the sorrow this clan had endured for more than a couple of years.

Until losing interest in soccer, then Casey's death, Kendall had never known real hardship. His scar was a mishap of youth; it had probably bothered his parents more than any distress Kendall ever took from it. His had been a blessed life, but he had never fathomed the depth of that gift, although he thought he had. Perhaps there had been no adequate way to measure those treasures. Not until some were lost could their true worth be recognized.

Kendall rubbed his head; his hair was starting to thicken, felt stubbly. He had shaved his beard because it itched. The boys had asked about his scar, and they had shuddered as he told them. Kendall had wanted to ask Sarah about Jimmy's scar, but refrained. Something about that jagged mark, which probably could have benefitted from cosmetic surgery, was taboo.

It had nothing to do with his death, the details of which Kendall wasn't sure if he needed to know. Like Casey, Jimmy had been hit by a drunk. Jazz alluded to the crash last night, but Sarah had distracted him; maybe that was for Kendall's benefit. They probably knew the facts of Casey's accident; he had been pinned in the vehicle, horribly injured, bleeding to death. Other injuries probably would have killed him, but in the middle of nowhere, the other driver knocked unconscious, no one found the crash until it was too late, and Casey had been pronounced dead at the scene. Had Jimmy lingered, did Sarah get any last moments with him?

"So what're we doing today?" Heath rapped his fingers along the table. "Are we going to Grandma's or...."

"I wanna stay home." Ben looked at Kendall, then to his mother. "I think I wanna break the castle."

The boys had completed it, playing with the small Lego figures all week. "Don't wreck it," Sarah said.

"But it's mine." Ben pouted. Then he looked at Kendall. "If I break it, will you get mad?"

"I don't care." Then Kendall sighed. "It's yours to do whatever you want with. You can build it again or make it different or...."

"Did you play with Legos when you were a kid?" Heath asked.

No, I played soccer. All the time. Day and night. I slept with a soccer ball and drove my parents nuts until they realized I actually had a talent for it. Fortunately, I was just a little older than Ben at the time, so once they gave in, they never had to worry about me until I was thirty. "Uh, sometimes."

"Did you build castles or did you make...." Heath's voice faded as Kendall glanced at Ben, who rolled his eyes.

Then Kendall looked at Sarah. She seemed near tears. Why was she sad, because Ben was so much older than his brother? Maybe not in actual years, but later on, when Heath was still hopeful and impressionistic, Ben would be short-tempered and acerbic. Heath would bug the shit out of his younger brother, but they were all each other had. Then Kendall sighed. At least Brendan has a sister too.

Sarah told the boys to stop squabbling, but Kendall hadn't even heard their fight. Then Sarah sent her children outside, but Ben complained that it was cold. He wanted to break apart the castle, and Heath started in again, to leave it alone. Finally Sarah shouted. "Get outside now before I send you to your room!"

The boys fled, the front door slamming. Kendall finished his coffee as Sarah moved to the sink, where she faced the window, gripping the counter. With uneasy steps, Kendall joined her, but kept his hands at his sides. He wanted to gently grasp her shoulders. Instead he cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"I just get fed up, you know?" Then she chuckled. "No, you probably have no idea. Just that after a while, it gets old." She turned to face Kendall. "Ben's...." She sighed. "Ben's like his father. Heath looks like Jimmy, but Ben _is_ Jimmy. Jimmy was smarter than anyone I ever knew. He got a scholarship for Tennessee, the Vols you know. But then he, well, it didn't work out. He came home, and that was it for school."

Sarah paused, then she shivered, looking away from Kendall. Then, after a minute, she gazed back at him. "He got tired of the yahoos around here, but where else were we gonna live? Sometimes he talked about moving away, but then when Savannah left, he knew Jazz and Tamra would be devastated if we left too. He worked in Memphis, was a mechanic. He commuted every day, that's how he died." She had a wry smile. "Not that commuting killed him, but he was on his way home. A drunk killed him, a drunk congressman who already had a couple of DUIs." She looked past Kendall, as if Jimmy was standing in the doorway. "I wasn't of any mind to sue, who cares about money when...." She met Kendall's eyes. "But a lawyer got in touch with Mom. She convinced me it would be best for the boys, money for college, you know. I still rent this house, have to work full-time, but there's money set aside for them. And that bastard got jail time. Not enough." She inhaled, then let it out slowly. "But he's still there, and will be for another couple years. He should rot for what he did, but no one gets what's really coming to them. Unless they don't deserve it," she added.

She looked to the window. "Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't screwed up everything last year, if Ben would be different now. Or maybe he'd be this way no matter what, like how Heath can't help the way he looks. He looks just like him, sometimes it's eerie." She faced Kendall, staring at his chin. "I never saw how much Heath looked like Jimmy until Jimmy was gone."

"How'd he get the scar?"

Sarah grimaced. "Football practice in high school."

Just about like how I got my scar, Christ. "I'm sorry."

"Me too, for a lot of things. But not everything."

For the first time since meeting this woman, Kendall felt aroused. Maybe it was her tone, not at all guilty. Maybe it was human nature; they were standing very close to one another, and they were alone. Maybe it was learning how her husband died. Or maybe it was something else that he loathed to identify. Kendall grasped her hand, squeezing it gently, at first. She responded, and his grip increased. She didn't try to get away.

Maybe the boys will rush in, say like right now. How about now? Now? Shit. She's really beautiful, and I haven't felt this way in.... Way too fucking long. Years, well, more than a year, eighteen, nineteen months. I haven't had sex in a year, but even at the end with Natalie, it didn't feel like this. It hasn't felt like _this_ in a long time. What does _this_ feel like? It feels like.... Heat and desire, like I'm eighteen or twenty. Like I'm in Madrid, surrounded by gorgeous dark-haired women who all look at me with giggly smiles. I was just an American snot-nosed punk, or how I seemed to them, coming in like I owned the place, although I was never haughty or rude. Just talented. I was very talented, and I knew it, and never apologized for it. I never tried to be less than what I was, which was a gifted athlete from somewhere where no one gave a damn. Similar to coming here; I'm from California, where humanity seems to have slipped into the Pacific. But in Tennessee, people matter. They're real. She's real, oh my God, she's so close, so....

"Mom! Ben ruined my soccer ball!"

Kendall whipped around, a deflated ball in Heath's hands. It was the Christmas gift and Heath seemed more angry than sad. "He poked at it with a stick till he put a hole in it, all 'cause I said I didn't want him breaking the castle."

Sarah stepped around Kendall, taking the ball. Then she left the kitchen, but Kendall didn't see where she went. He didn't move, a sick sense rising in his chest. Heath followed his mother, but Kendall only knew they had gone out when the door was slammed shut.

When Kendall stepped outside, Heath was sitting in the porch swing. Sarah and Ben were across the road, nearly in the field. Kendall's truck was behind her car, where he parked all the time. Did he live here, did he want her? If Heath hadn't interrupted, Kendall might have kissed Sarah Dwyer. He still wanted to, which burned in his groin. It felt good, easing his lingering head and stomach aches.

Heath looked up. "He's gonna get it this time."

"Yeah?"

Heath nodded, the other ball beside him on the swing. "He's so mean, I don't know why, but he is. Tamra's kinda bratty sometimes, but not like Ben."

Did your mother ever think Jimmy was mean, or just smart? "Well, he shouldn't have messed with it."

"Are you mad at him?"

"No. Should I be?"

"Well, you bought it. For me," Heath added, then sighed. "For both of us, like the castle's for both of us."

Kendall pulled up a chair, sitting across from Heath. "You're right, I did buy those gifts for you two to share. He can't really break the Legos, I mean, he could tear down the castle, but they're meant to be used over and over. Now you have a ball, and he doesn't. Sometimes we hurt ourselves, thinking we're hurting someone else."

Boy, how can I be so astute this early in the day? Kendall smiled at himself, but lowered his head so Heath wouldn't see.

"He used to be nicer, but...." Heath stood, as Sarah, clutching Ben's hand, stepped toward the house. Leaving the ball on the swing, Heath ran, then walked to the gate, where the threesome met. Kendall got to his feet, but stayed near the house. Only when Sarah motioned for him did he join them.

Ben was in tears as Kendall reached them. "Ben, what do you have to say to Kendall?"

"I'm sorry," he sniffled. Then he grabbed his mother's legs, hiding his face. He couldn't stop his tears however, which made Heath start to cry.

"It's okay, I forgive you Ben." Heath then grabbed his brother. "You can tear down the castle, I don't care, okay?"

Ben shook his head against Sarah's legs. She looked at Kendall, also as if apologizing, but not merely for the wrecked ball. She's sorry this happened because if it hadn't, something else would have.

Kendall cupped her face in his hand. _I'm sorry too_ , he mouthed. She nodded, then knelt down, embracing her sons.

Ben burrowed against her, crying hard. Kendall went to their level, his hand returning to Sarah's face. To the surprise of all, Ben moved from his mom, falling into Kendall, who used his other hand to keep from falling over. The hand which had caressed Sarah's cheek was then wrapped around Ben, who looked at Kendall. "Please, please," he blubbered, sounding his age, and very ashamed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated. "Please don't go, don't leave. Don't, I'm sorry, I'm...."

Kendall closed his eyes, trying not to hear the rest, but Ben said it anyway. "Please don't leave Daddy. I'm sorry Daddy. I'm so, so sorry."

Kendall carried Ben to his room. The boys shared a bunk bed, Ben on the bottom, and Kendall sat beside him as Ben fell asleep. Easing his hand from Ben's grasp, Kendall stood, watching the youngster curl into himself, but not wake up. Kendall tiptoed from the room, finding Sarah and Heath in the kitchen, talking quietly.

"He's out." Kendall looked around the room, not wishing to meet their gazes, which were all over him. Finally he glanced at Heath, then Sarah. Then he sat down, cracking his knuckles.

What happens next? Something, because now there's no going back, not for any of us. What do I want? Hmmm. Well, besides a beer.... Christ, I have no fucking idea. It's a new year, it's also another day, not very different from yesterday. But everything's changed. "Heath, can you give your mother and me a few minutes alone?"

Heath nodded, scrambling from the room. The front door opened, then closed very quietly.

Kendall looked at Sarah. What do I say? I want to know what Ben said to her, that matters most. Not that he was sorry about the ball, but about.... Maybe he can't though. He is only four. Maybe today he slipped back into childhood. Maybe for a year he had to live as some adult midget, but today he got his ya-ya's out. "What'd he say to you?"

"He said it was an accident." She sighed. "Then he started crying, told me he was sorry for being so mean to Heath, and to you, when he met you. Then he...." She inhaled, gripping her hands so hard they turned white.

Kendall reached for her hands, and she relaxed under his touch. Their eyes met. She doesn't have to say it, he told her he was sorry, as if he was Jimmy, seeking clemency for just happening to get killed coming home from work. Maybe Jimmy was channeling his son, the one that doesn't look like him, but is him.

"He said he was sorry about making me mad last year. Can you believe that? He was sorry for making _me_ mad." She spoke slowly, as if she couldn't believe it. "He asked if you were...." She cleared her throat. "If you were gonna stay, or had he messed that up too. How can he remember last year, he was three, just a little boy."

She stared right at Kendall. "He's been slipping, when you're not around. Mom's heard him too. Heath calls you Kendall, but Ben...." Sarah removed her hands from Kendall's. Then she stood, getting a glass of water. She drank it, looking out the window. Then she tapped it gently, motioning for Heath to play somewhere else.

"Sarah, what do you want?"

"It doesn't matter," she sighed.

Kendall stood, then stepped toward her. She turned before he could reach her. She shed no tears, but her distress, and relief, went deeper than what crying could relay. "I want you to not stay at the motel anymore. Not that you have been but...." She smiled weakly.

All right, if we're going to lay it all on the table. "I don't want to either."

"What do you have left there?"

"Just the bill." And the Christmas wrap, tape, and scissors. She'll laugh at those.

Sarah nodded, then looked out the window again. Then she turned half-way, staring at the side of the refrigerator. "He might sleep a while." Her voice was soft. "He was up at five."

"Maybe you should lie down, get a nap too. I can keep an eye on Heath."

She looked at Kendall, her smile wider. "I'll be okay." She sighed. "He used to get in bed with me, stopped doing that after I yelled at them last year. This morning he came in, said he was hungry. Heath slept until seven."

"I never heard any of you."

Sarah chuckled. "You were snoring pretty hard. Ben wanted to wake you up, kept sneaking out of his chair, standing at the doorway. A couple of times he got all the way to the sofa. I was surprised you didn't wake when Heath did. They were both pretty loud."

Well, I was pretty drunk last night, takes a while to sleep that off. "Sarah, if you wanna go lay down, really."

She shook her head. "Why don't you take Heath with you, that way Ben can get a good nap. I have no idea how he'll be when he wakes and...."

And you need some time alone. "Sure, that's fine."

He went to leave, but she tugged on his arm. "Kendall, I don't know, I mean...."

He smiled. "You have a nice couch."

"I don't want you to sleep on the sofa. Unless you want to."

No, I don't think I want to keep sleeping on your sofa. But to be honest....

"But to be honest with you," she continued, "I don't know if I'm ready for, you know."

He heaved a sigh of relief, then squeezed her hands. "I don't know if I'm ready for that either."

She giggled, then nodded. "Jimmy was my first. My only." She lowered her eyes.

Kendall blinked; Jesus Christ. Okay, time for confessions. "Sarah, I've only slept with five women. I mean that. I haven't had...." God, I hope she believes me. "Sex with anyone since Natalie."

He had told Sarah about his former girlfriend, and how long they had been together. He hadn't told her he gave Natalie the house, but he wanted to do even more for Sarah, Heath, and Ben.... "I never was intimate with any of those women." Of course she's looked up the website, but I swear to God, on your kids' lives, it was just someone to sleep _next to_ ; I never even got off, not once. "Sarah, I...."

She set her finger to his lips and he nearly took that digit into his mouth. "Kendall, I believe you."

Then she traced his scar. "I just don't know how long, I mean, how long I need. But I do need...." She paused, then stroked his face. "I need you."

Her tears started as soon as those words left her lips. Kendall nodded, then nuzzled her forehead. She wept quietly as he cradled her. "I need you too Sarah. I need you too."

### Chapter 14

At the end of January, Sarah woke, lying on her right, Kendall alongside her. Both were dressed, Sarah in a nightgown, Kendall in a thin t-shirt and pajama bottoms. They often woke this close, especially if Ben was curled against Kendall's back. For the last two weeks, Ben had been slipping into bed with them, on Kendall's side. Between Ben's presence, and Sarah's period, lovemaking for Sarah and Kendall had not yet occurred.

During the first week of January, the couple had been similarly attired, but often facing each other, in one another's arms. Sarah was a snuggler, and Kendall had quickly adjusted. Their first nights were spent speaking about subjects best discussed in low light and quiet. She told him that her father Leroy had died of a heart attack when she was eighteen, Jazz twenty-two. Leroy and Adele had enjoyed a mostly happy marriage, and after his death, Adele never sought another companion. Sarah had questioned her mother's solitude, until she was faced with a similar situation.

For the second week of January, Kendall slept in boxers, Sarah in tank tops and panties. Continuing to cuddle, Kendall admitted how he grew up in a fairly normal family, although not one particularly demonstrative. He had been obsessed with soccer, also with being a good eldest child. Not that his siblings were rebels; all three toed the line, until Kendall went off the rails. He expressed great remorse for hurting his parents, and when he wasn't snuggling with Sarah either in or out of bed, he spoke with Chris and Brenda, Lindsay and Brendan, explaining his new life. They asked if he was coming home for Easter. He said he wasn't quite ready to face California.

For the first half of the third week, Kendall slept nude, Sarah down to her underwear. Embraces had turned to nuzzling, kisses laid along limbs and faces. They noted how neither Jimmy nor Natalie had been big cuddlers; Sarah had accepted it, Kendall had never realized the value of snuggles. But three weeks of living with the Dwyers had proved the importance of hugs; Ben's previously frosty demeanor had mostly vanished, although he still had his occasional moods. Heath was nearly too old to need copious physical reassurance, but he did like sitting between his mom and Kendall on the sofa, leaning against one, then the other. Ben liked sitting on Kendall's lap, and then he started visiting in the middle of the night. The first time, he went to Sarah's side of the bed, but didn't notice his mother was nearly naked. The next evening, Kendall wore boxers, and Ben happened to get next to him. Neither Kendall nor Sarah had the heart to tell him to go back to bed, and it assuaged their nerves, because neither one was quite ready to have sex.

By the fourth week, Sarah started her period, induced by birth control pills she began taking right after Kendall checked out of the Nearly Memphis Motel. Condoms weren't considered; the couple hadn't been promiscuous. Kendall noted that previously sex hadn't been overly important; before Natalie, he'd had four brief flings, the first of which had claimed his virginity when he was eighteen. Only Natalie, and now Sarah, knew the restraint that had permeated his sex life; yet, by the end of January, Kendall thought an adult lifetime of sexual lust would tear him apart. If Sarah hadn't started her period, he might have just taken Ben back to his room, then been intimate with a woman Kendall now couldn't live without.

Falling in love with Sarah had happened so fast, he wrote to his brother, sometimes it didn't seem real. But the year gone past seemed to have extended a brief courtship; maybe Kendall had met Sarah right after Casey died, and it took twelve months for him to get it together. More rightly was a widow still adjusting to loss, also a woman coming to terms with her sexual life spent with just one man, in the bed she and Kendall now shared only for sleep, and plenteous cuddles.

As they readied for bed on Friday night, Kendall ached with a longing not known since his early twenties. Maybe his family wasn't highly passionate; Brendan and Lindsay had partners, but not too many others had cropped up for any of the Schultz siblings. Kendall had only told Natalie the basics, but she was very happy for him, and was still quite contented with Dr. Ron, who was living with her when not engaged at the hospital. He wasn't engaged to Natalie either, she laughed to Kendall. Natalie admitted she wasn't interested in marriage or a family. Tactfully she didn't inquire if Kendall was either.

When Kendall thought about it, he had kinfolk; Ben alternated _Kendall_ with _Daddy_. Heath always used _Kendall_ , never teasing when Ben didn't. Kendall didn't consider Sarah his wife, but she was more than a girlfriend. She was incredibly sexy and warm, her voluptuous body soft and sensual. All that snuggling had stoked his desire, as well as something just hinted at with Natalie; maybe he'd been distracted by sport, their striking house, his sleek car, all that sunshine. But in Tennessee, in a somewhat narrow double bed, even with a four-year-old's knees stuck in Kendall's back, a larger priority had been unearthed, or maybe Kendall was still trying not to find it. But when Sarah started her period, and their first week's nightclothes returned, Kendall couldn't deny what had been pounding within his vacant chest for over a year, even before Casey died. Parenthood was still knocking on the door.

Yet, a family with Sarah seemed to have arrived ready-made. Kendall ferried the boys to school and day care; Sarah hadn't asked him to, but there wasn't much else for him to do.

He had started running again; while Sarah didn't seem to mind his gut, Kendall felt self-conscious about it, the first time he had been displeased with his body. He was still drinking; when Jazz came over with a few six-packs, Kendall never said _no_. Sarah didn't either, although the men started before she did, and finished after she was done. Kendall and Jazz hadn't spoken about their pasts, but Savannah wafted through Jazz's tone, maybe it was just Tamra, a daughter that Jazz hadn't initially wanted, but loved as much as Sarah adored her boys. Kendall wondered if that parental fondness was exacerbated by those deceased spouses.

He thought about that when he ran, during the week. On weekends, Ben tagged along, turning jogs into walks. Heath stayed home, allowing Ben time alone with Kendall. When Kendall and Heath kicked the soccer ball in the field, Ben rarely intruded.

Kendall had started cooking dinner for the family, recipes that his mother sent via emails. Ben wasn't crazy about stir fry, but he liked Brenda's meatloaf, and it gave Kendall something to do, as well as a way to reconnect with his parents. Chris drove the Mercedes nearly every day, Brenda wrote. Kendall had chuckled, unable to imagine speeding along country highways in an elite convertible. He thought about getting a bigger truck; when they went somewhere together, they used Sarah's sedan, which had plenty of miles. Kendall offered to buy her a new car, but she had refused. He did pay for groceries, since now he did most of the shopping. He drove to the Bolivar Walmart, and was starting to recognize some of the checkers. But none of them ever identified him.

They might think of him as that Californian; his driver's license was due to expire in another year, maybe he would get out there for that, or perhaps he would apply for a Tennessee license. But first he needed to consummate something with Sarah that went deeper than fixing supper, taking walks with Ben, playing soccer with Heath, or drinking beers with Jazz. Kendall even talked to Tamra, not about dance, but about his home state. She wanted to visit California someday, and Kendall said he would love to take her to San Diego's beaches. Heath asked about Disneyland, even though it wasn't in San Diego. Yet the kids didn't grasp the distances between the large metropolitan areas; they assumed it was like driving to Memphis or Bolivar, twenty or thirty minutes away from Summerland on two-lane roads.

Somehow Ben seemed aware that Southern California was different; he was still a smart little boy, but his edge was eased, maybe because Kendall hadn't left, even let Ben embed his knees into Kendall's back. However, that Friday night, Kendall might just put Ben back in his bottom bunk. When she got home from work, Sarah had eluded that her period was over. And that perhaps their month-long cuddling sessions could be expanded into further intimacies. Kendall kissed her on the mouth after she said that, no tongues, as lips shirked from static shocks. Then Kendall gripped her close, unafraid to hide what he truly wanted.

She had pressed against him, then nibbled on his earlobe. Getting into bed that evening, he grimaced, thinking of her naughty smile that had followed. He wore boxers and a t-shirt. She sat up in her nightgown, that teasing grin affixed. "Door locked?" she asked, tucking hair behind her ears.

"Yeah." Wait, does she mean her door or the front door? "The front's locked."

She giggled. "I never lock my door."

He nodded. "Boys would probably freak out."

"I told Ben that tonight he needed to stay in his own bed."

Kendall shivered, then lay down. She curled beside him, nuzzling against his t-shirt. He closed his eyes, a warm, fluid sensation running through him. He was very hard, but she hadn't yet touched him there. Nor had he touched her down there either.

They had explored each other's upper torsos; in that first half of last week, only her underwear impeded how their bodies met. And those places were still off limits, but she had the softest, largest breasts of any woman he had slept with. Her nipples were wide; she had nursed both boys for several months. Kendall had flicked his tongue along what to that point was the most sensitive part of her body. She had done the same to him, then caressed his chest. The acts themselves were soothing; intercourse would happen eventually, but this manner of investigation was necessary for a woman who had only slept with one man, and not done so for over two years. Also for a man who hadn't truly understood tenderness, except perhaps in those few days with Ana in Portugal.

Kendall had loved Natalie, but their relationship didn't compare with what he felt for Sarah. He considered it extensively on his runs, even pondered it while walking with Ben or kicking the ball with Heath; these children were a part of it, maybe a very large part, but Kendall wasn't their father, even if Ben called him _Daddy_. What was Kendall to these boys, to Sarah, he wondered, as she lay on top of him.

He caressed her back, then her buttocks, which were not clad in underwear. "Are you done?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she murmured, nibbling on his ear.

He moaned, gently stroking her butt, but going no further, although he desperately wanted to reach just under those generous curves. She seemed to realize that, widening her hips, fitting his erection into the groove of her pelvis. All that stood in their way was cotton and acceptance.

They lay that way for several minutes, deep, warm kisses shared. Then they mumbled each other's names, and Kendall couldn't imagine being any more aroused. Strangely, he wasn't close to coming. That was precluded by several notions; that Ben might barge in was top of the list. It was easier to consider that little boy's intrusion than the ghostly specters which were far more disturbing.

Which of those was worse, Sarah's late husband, also the only man she had ever made love with, or Casey, whose death left Melissa crushed, and had stolen Kendall's heart? Kendall's chest was still a void, although this family had untangled arteries and veins, yet their contents pooled at the bottom of his empty rib cage. Somehow that heaviness didn't impede Kendall's passions. But thinking about a possible alteration of the situation kept any immediate need to ejaculate at bay.

That he could be so hard, yet so wary, made him laugh. That Sarah seemed to know exactly how he felt also eased him, and precluded him from just hiking up her nightgown and nailing her. She didn't have to say it, but she felt just the same; he knew that from her very fervent sighs, and how she didn't grind into him. She fit over him like a glove, but the required intensity to move anything along was glaringly absent.

"Kendall, is this okay?"

Oh. My. God. Yes. It's about all I can stand, both in the sensual and emotional. If we did anything more, I might pass out, but I still wouldn't need to come. I want to tell you this, but to actually say it would seem weird. Also redundant, because you feel the very same. "Sarah, this's perfect."

She kissed his scar. "It really is." She giggled, then laid her head on his chest. "How about this?"

He stroked her hair, wishing he could tell her that yes, where she lay, so close to a massive emptiness, didn't hurt. Sarah, I want to tell you so much, but how do words best describe the last year and a half of my life? Everything I've found with you and the boys is really all I wanted, what I was just starting to realize. Then Casey died, wanting the same damn thing, and what was I bitching about? How was I supposed to even consider what I might need; he was dead! "This is fine, just fine."

"Kendall, I'm scared, I mean...." She kissed the fabric between his nipples. "I feel like a virgin all over again." She moved to his right side, nuzzling just under his armpit. "Maybe I should just go down on you."

She giggled as she said it, causing him to chuckle. "Or I could just go down on you."

"But that's not it, I mean, that should happen afterwards. That's another variety of it, but the main thing...."

The main thing is that you've never made love with any man except your late husband. And I have never made love with any woman except for pleasure. But there's far more to sex than stimulation. There's also more to it than intercourse, but really, that's the most sincere and physical manner in which to do it. It's about being physically linked to someone, whether it's via family or becoming one body.

"I'm afraid of you inside me," she whispered. "Not actually terrified, but...." She smiled, then looked up. "He was the only one who's ever been there." She sighed. "Something very internal for women, I guess."

Kendall stroked her face. "I understand. I really do." What the two of you did was just for you, and you made two healthy children, and one that didn't survive. And then he was gone, and.... And I have never loved anyone thinking such weighty thoughts, wanting such permanent change. It was just about temporary satisfaction.

And what's even more strange is that I never considered it in this way before. This was what I was hoping to figure out, and then.... "Sarah, can I be completely honest with you?"

She nodded, her eyes wide.

Where and how do I start? "I was just grasping the idea of what being a man might mean to me. For the first time in my adult life soccer didn't matter, and for the first time with Natalie, she didn't either." He sighed. "I don't mean to sound crass. I still cared about her, I still slept with her. But I wasn't _in love_ with her, or maybe I never had been, and I was just realizing it. Then...." Shit. It sounds so trivial compared to what she lost; the love of her life, the father of her children.

"Kendall, keep talking."

My God, she is amazing, Kendall thought, taking a breath. "When Casey died, it was like, what am I complaining about? I have my life, but he's dead." Kendall closed his eyes, not wishing to consider Casey standing in the doorway or lying in his coffin. But Sarah's arms were tight around him, as if squeezing these sentiments free. "He was dead and Melissa was devastated and all I wanted was to die too. All my wanting to get away and figure out who I was was bullshit. I helped carry his casket to the goddamn cemetery, and that was the most wrong thing in the world. He wanted a family, which was what I wanted too and...."

I can't tell her this, she's suffered worse. "Sarah, I'm sorry, I'm...."

Her kiss was soft, then she laid her head back on his chest. "I never wanted to fall in love again because losing him was so miserable." She traced Kendall's left nipple with her fingertip. "He was the only man I ever loved, and I guess I still love him, but it's not active, it can't be reciprocated anymore. He's gone, and I've accepted that, and then you showed up." She reached for his face. "The first time I saw you, I cringed, not because I thought you were a pervert." She giggled, then lifted his t-shirt, kissing his nipple. "It was because of Heath. Ben's smart, but Heath's compassionate. And for the last two years, he's been dead inside. Mom and Jazz and I'd talked about how Ben was so sour and Heath was just crushed. He remembered his dad, knew what he'd lost, and while I was why Ben was so crabby, Heath's whole world was Jimmy. He loved them so much, maybe the miscarriage played a part. He was a good father, and until that day, when you gave Heath the soccer ball, I wasn't sure if he would ever recover, not to who he'd been."

She mounted Kendall, staring down at him. "Your coloring is like Jimmy's. Your gut too," and she smiled, poking at his belly. "I knew you were a stranger, except that you weren't a stranger at all; you'd brought Heath back, you'd brought my son home to me." Her lip trembled, and she blinked away tears. "Both of them, but Heath first, and he was the one I was most scared about. I mean, I was worried about Ben too, but Heath'd changed so much after Jimmy died, but that day, and every one since, he's been okay. Like he'd been hibernating, and you brought him out of it."

Kendall wanted to cry, but her tears poured for them both. "I didn't know who you were till Mom called during dinner. And I still didn't know, not really, except that I knew exactly who you were, and I didn't know why. Why were you there?"

"You asked me that, do you remember? You asked me twice, I think."

She nodded. "I probably did."

And on Christmas too, after I gave you the scarf, which you wear quite often. You asked me why I was there, in your house, in your life. And I'm still not quite sure, I mean, in the grand scheme. But between consenting adults, in your bedroom, in your bed even, I think I know. "Sarah...." His voice was hoarse; I'm getting close now, really close.

She nodded, then sat up, lifting the nightgown over her head. She set it on her side of the bed, then leaned over him. "I think you should take off your clothes."

"Yeah, I should." He smiled. "How do you think I should do that?"

"Well, I think if I get offa you, you'll find a way."

"And then?"

She lay on him, running her fingers along his head. "And then I think I'm ready for you to make love to me."

"Yeah?" Oh my God, I know I'm ready to make love to you.

"Kendall, I never wanted to get close to anyone again, love any man again. I love my children, that was all I thought I could handle. As soon as I saw you, that changed. I didn't like it until I learned who you were."

She brushed her teary cheek along his. She doesn't mean Kendall Schultz soccer star, and she doesn't mean a man whose friend died a year to the day after her husband. She doesn't even mean the person who allegedly brought her children back. I don't know if I did that or not, but what I do know is what she really does mean. I'm a man, she's a woman, but together, oh my God, together....

She had slid from his body as he considered what Sarah Adelaide Dwyer truly meant. Kendall undressed, then moved between her thighs, slipping into her body. The boys were just feet away, but they could have been on another planet, or maybe that bedroom was an alternate universe. It became a new world for Kendall and Sarah, whose lives restarted, enmeshed in each other's arms.

Afterwards, she traced his nipple, this time with no fabric in the way. Her touch was gentle, as was her voice. "How does it feel?"

"Achy, but in a good way." His tone was debilitated, not from the orgasm, which had been spectacular. He was wrecked from how his heart had suddenly plopped back into his chest, and was still trying to work its way into the proper position. Those veins and arteries were slow to reconnect, but perhaps after a couple of days, and more sex, Kendall's upper torso would once again be whole. "How do you feel?"

"The same," she smiled. They lay on their sides, limbs wrapped tight. "But mine's more of all over."

He grinned, then kissed her, setting his palm between her breasts. "We're both gonna be tender for a while."

"Yeah, I think so." She nestled against his chest, but it caused him no pain. It wasn't actually pain that he felt, just how his muscles had throbbed after he started running again. His body knew the routine, but it had been ages since that sort of physical labor had been demanded. He was still slow to start, but now his legs were more cooperative, his lungs not so balky. Sarah set several small kisses between his pecs, then nibbled on his nipples. She was very tactile, also the most beautiful woman he had ever slept with. The look on her face as she'd climaxed had nearly unhinged him; was it motherhood, loss, or renewal? Some combination of all three probably. She came, then he did, how could he do anything else when she expressed perfect bliss and profound freedom? Kendall had never seen anyone so liberated.

Then he was too, and yes, it had hurt like nothing ever known as his heart burst back into his body, traveling at two or three hundred miles an hour. It was like a car accident, which he kept to himself, yet this was the sort that didn't take life, but resurrected it. And it was still occurring, a work in progress. He had no idea how long it would take, but looked forward to the manner in which it seemed to heal best. He was hard again, wanted her so much, wanted to see her climax. She turned into another woman in that moment, his woman. He closed his eyes, wishing for a less antiquated way to put it. She wasn't his wife, but partner sounded weak. Companion or girlfriend were equally feeble; Sarah wasn't Kendall's possession, she was her own person, but he was just the second person to ever see her so animated, and was the only one living to know it.

He didn't presume her orgasm was of some new variety; Jimmy had witnessed her that satisfied numerous times. What Kendall didn't know was that Sarah had never experienced that level of sexual passion. She wanted to tell him, because she realized he had reached a new pinnacle. But to introduce such delicate notions seemed difficult.

After a few minutes, she spoke. "Kendall, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

She leaned up, taking him in her arms. He was fragile, yet very hard, which made her smile. "I've never felt that way before."

"Yeah?" His voice was lighthearted.

"Kendall, no one has ever done to me what you just did. No one."

He tried to look at her face, but she wasn't quite ready for that. She stroked his head, his hair not lengthy enough to get caught in her fingers. She had met him looking this way, but thought if his hair was longer, that might be nice too. "Are you gonna keep your hair short?"

"What does my hair have to do with...." He chuckled softly, then finally met her gaze. "Oh Sarah, oh my God honey...."

"Kendall, will you grow your hair out?"

"Anything Sarah, anything you want."

She nodded; he looked scared, but she had spoken the truth. Jimmy had been a wonderful husband, and a very good lover, for what she had known. Now she knew a little more. "Kendall, I think I'd like to see how you look with longer hair. Maybe not as shaggy as some of those pictures, but...."

He kissed her face with soft pecks that made her cry. "Sarah, I will do anything you want. Anything."

She set his hand along the crook of her thigh. "Kendall, I think I want you here. I think I want you to kiss me here."

He wore a small smile, nodding his head. Within minutes he had worked down her neck, lingering at her breasts, moving along her belly, reaching where her hand still remained. She was glad he wouldn't see her face that time, assuming his recent memory would fill in any gaps.

### Chapter 15

The following morning Kendall woke to Ben asleep on Sarah's side of the bed. Kendall vaguely recalled Sarah getting up, and feeling along his torso and hips, Kendall exhaled; he wore a t-shirt and boxers.

Those movements caused Ben to stir. "What, huh?"

Kendall smiled, smoothing Ben's dark hair from the boy's face. "Good morning."

Ben blinked, then scooted toward Kendall. "Where's Mommy?"

The scent of coffee could be detected, and Kendall's stomach rumbled. He had imagined waking to Sarah in his arms, maybe making love once more before the day began. Instead parenthood stared at him in Ben's blue eyes. "In the kitchen I bet." Kendall wrapped Ben close, the child's warmth permeating Kendall's chest, easing the discomfort that still remained. Kendall breathed with force, making Ben giggle. Kendall's heart felt to be floating within his rib cage. It was being tethered back into place slowly, but perhaps that was the manner of such healing. Kendall wanted to ask Sarah how she was, but he might not get an adequate answer immediately.

"Mommy!" Ben's shout rang in Kendall's ears, then was followed by Sarah's footsteps. Kendall moved to his back, pulling Ben onto his chest. The weight felt good, like a necessary pressure.

Sarah stepped into the room, her smile wide. "Well, Heath and I were wondering if you two were ever gonna wake up."

Kendall nodded as she got into bed on the other side. But Ben didn't move, nestling more against Kendall. "Where's Heath now?"

"Outside playing."

"With who?"

Sarah named several of the kids who lived on that street and the accompanying blocks. Ben nodded, then plopped into the open space between the adults. He looked at them, then sighed.

"Do you wanna get dressed and join them?" Sarah asked her son.

Kendall smiled as Ben hemmed and hawed. Finally the little boy slipped out from the end of the bed, running from the room.

"I'll be right back." Sarah went after him.

Kendall chuckled as Ben groused that no, he didn't need breakfast, he just wanted to see what was happening. Kendall headed to the bathroom as Ben waited for his mother to tie his shoes, a play-by-play offered by Ben in a rushed voice. When Kendall exited the bathroom, Ben was slamming the front door behind him.

Sarah met Kendall in the hallway. "How are you?" she asked, gently caressing his chest.

"Better now." He kissed her, then pulled her close. I need this more than I could ever tell you. "How are you?"

She smiled. "I'm okay." Then she giggled. "Better than okay."

Kendall nuzzled her forehead, finding deep comfort in touching her. How essential is this, and for how long have I ignored it, or just thought I didn't need it? He traced her jaw, then set his lips to hers. The kiss was slow and soft. Then she gently set her head against his chest. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Yeah." But first I need to say something. "Sarah, I love you." I really do.

She nodded, then looked at the floor. Then she met his eyes. "I love you too." She smiled. "I tried to get him to stay in bed but...."

"No, it's okay." A little jarring to wake to after last night, but a family is what I wanted. "How long've you been up?"

"An hour or so." She still rested against him, and he clung to her. Something about saying those words felt healing, also how close she was, but not in the same way as last night, or how Ben had slumped on him. Standing with her, mostly dressed, in the hallway seemed like something a father might do. For the first time since sleeping on Sarah's sofa after Christmas, even with Ben calling him _Daddy_ half the time, this felt parental, paternal. A father might sleep in, then wake to his son, as his wife had already gotten up with their other child.

But Kendall wasn't the breadwinner, or at least Sarah wouldn't let him take on that responsibility. Buying groceries was one thing, but she paid her rent and utilities. She should be the one to sleep in. "Sarah, why don't you go lie down and...."

She shook her head. "Kendall, I'm fine, really."

He caressed her hips and she slowly moved against him. Yes indeed you are, the most perfect, pleasing woman I have ever known, held, loved. I loved Natalie to some degree, I love my mother and sister, but I need you, Sarah Dwyer. You, your sons, this life. He inhaled. "Honey, I...."

She looked up, her wide smile stirring his heart, which beat with irregularity. Yet, it was there, thumping in his chest. He hadn't felt that in over a year. "Kendall, why don't you take a shower?"

He nodded, then blushed. His lips had traveled over nearly every inch of her body. "You think he noticed anything?"

She giggled. "No, but Heath might. I'll start your breakfast when you're done. Ben'll be back by then, I'm surprised he hasn't come back yet."

Kendall smiled, kissed her, then went into their bedroom, choosing some clothes. By the time he stepped under the water, he heard Sarah telling her youngest that Kendall hadn't left. He was just getting a shower.

They spent that morning as a foursome, after Heath returned, full of stories. One of the kids had asked if Kendall was living with them, implying more than just a boyfriend for Sarah. The boy, Hunter, lived at the first house along the road, was ten. And a half, Heath added. Hunter's mother was divorced, and her boyfriend lived with them. Hunter's tone had been rather dismissive of Kendall, which had roused Heath's indignation. Sarah hid her smiles as Kendall wondered about the background of Hunter's family. He could ask Sarah later, but for now, Kendall took Heath's annoyance at face value. Ben didn't seem bothered, which further stoked Kendall's curiosity. But maybe Ben gave Hunter's skepticism no thought due to where he had found Kendall that morning, right where a father should sleep.

"I'm not gonna play with him anymore." Heath's elbows were propped on the table, his head in his hands. "He's just jealous."

Kendall didn't say anything, but he smiled at Heath. Then Sarah cleared her throat. "Heath, why don't you go take a shower?"

"Okay." Heath left the table, then looked back as he reached the doorway. "What're we doing today?"

His tone was as if they had been discussing that subject, but not reached a conclusion. Kendall wanted to clear his throat, but that might sound as though he had an agenda. All he wanted to spend that day with Sarah and the boys while his heart became accustomed to where it again resided.

"Well, we don't have any plans." Sarah smiled. "What do you boys wanna do?"

"Can we go out for lunch?" Heath asked.

"Yeah, can we?" Ben said.

"Maybe." Sarah stood, then sniffed Ben's head. "You could use a bath too."

"Mom...." Heath sighed.

"You shower first, then Ben can." Sarah waved her eldest off. "Go, before I make you take him in with you."

Heath scurried through the doorway. Then Sarah looked at Ben. "I need to talk to Kendall for a bit. You go play with Legos. In your room," she added.

He nodded, seemed glad not to have to shower with Heath. Ben moved as fast as his older brother, and Sarah stood, then peeked around the door. The shower had started, and the boys' door was closed.

Kendall drank his coffee, then smiled as Sarah returned to her seat, next to his. She grasped his hand, gave it a squeeze. "Hunter's mom has had several boyfriends," she whispered.

"I see. And Hunter's dad...."

"Was never part of the picture."

Kendall leaned her way, kissing her cheek. "This the first time there's been a problem between them?"

Sarah nodded. "Before Jimmy died, Hunter was too young to realize the routine. But now...." She sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. "Kids can be cruel, but Heath's not gonna care. Not that he'd say anything mean, but...."

"But now it's different." It really is. I'm not going anywhere.

"Kendall, are you sure, I mean...."

He smiled, stroking her fingers. "Hunter's just gonna have to deal with it." Sorry kid, but not hell or high water is coming between me and this family.

Sarah curled her fingers around Kendall's. "What do you feel up to today?"

"Lunch out would be nice. My treat, of course."

Sarah sighed long and loud. "Well, all right." Then she grinned. "But I'm making dinner."

"Only if I get to pay for the groceries."

How to broach these details? Kendall wasn't sure what the rules were. He wasn't merely Sarah's boyfriend, but he hadn't felt like only a boyfriend from that first night, sleeping on her sofa. Now that they had made love, he wanted a few minutes to acknowledge it, probably not in words, or even in touches. But the enormity of that act resonated all through him as if they were still lying together naked. They were very close there at her kitchen table, hands entwined much as their bodies had been hours ago. But a bridge had been crossed; he was more than her boyfriend, he was.... "Sarah, I wanna...."

She kissed him, laying her hand along his face. "I know. I really do."

"Will you let me?" Take care of you, the boys, for the rest of all of our lives? If I buy the groceries today, will that count as a marital vow? I want to marry you, make these boys my own. Have one with you someday, not that I'm in any hurry. I want to be a father to just Heath and Ben for a good while, while my heart realizes it's back in the right spot, and yours does the same. Maybe it will take yours longer, even if you did have two kids to assuage that tremendous pain. What you suffered was more terrifying than anything I could imagine. Maybe only Melissa Alspach had it worse, or perhaps that's a fallacy. She didn't know the joy of shared parenthood, nothing to miss.

Kendall could hear the shower still running, and he wondered if Ben was playing quietly, or waiting to interrupt this private moment. This was almost more intimate than all of last night's activities. Sarah, how did you go on, with two very small children? How did you not lose your mind, your heart? Those boys kept you in one piece, but at night they went to bed in another room. You and Jimmy had shared the other, which became only yours. I don't mind sleeping on that bed, making love to you in it. He's gone, you were right last night, no one to reciprocate with anymore. But how does the heart adjust, how does the brain make the allowances? How do you look at me and know it's all right, that yes, I can pay for lunch, maybe even the shopping. Maybe I shouldn't expect you to just let me pay for everything. Maybe that's foolish on both our parts, hasty to assume I'm here for good. Maybe I'm no more permanent than Hunter's mother's boyfriends.

These long moments of quiet seemed necessary, as if Kendall's thoughts traveled soundlessly into Sarah's perceptive ears. She knows far more than I could tell her, but maybe all of this should remain unspoken. Day by day is how we've been taking this relationship, this tremendous change in all our lives. This isn't just me and her; this is also two children who had grown used to it being a trio. It's a quartet again, no going back.

"Kendall, I guess we need to set some...."

"Yeah, I think maybe some kinda...."

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he smiled, again squeezing her hands.

But they said nothing as Ben ran into the room, noting that Heath was out of the shower, and both boys were hungry. "So what're we gonna eat, huh?" He squirmed between their chairs.

"How about...." Sarah mentioned a few places that Kendall knew, barbecue at one, burgers at the other. Ben didn't care; the concrete notion of somewhere outside the house answered his question. Five minutes later Heath joined them, asking for hamburgers. Kendall stood, ruffling both boys' heads. Then he set his palm along Sarah's face, catching Heath's smile and Ben's nod as he did so.

After lunch, they drove to Walmart in Bolivar. Kendall held Ben's hand and Heath walked on Kendall's other side while Sarah steered the cart. When she nodded toward the tampon aisle, Kendall took the boys down another row, then everyone met at a nearby end cap. Only Kendall saw what she had chosen, and he smiled at her. She smirked, then added toilet paper, Kleenexes, and paper towels.

Their cart was full when they left. Kendall drove, stopping for gas in Summerland. Sarah didn't argue as he filled the tank, and she gripped his hand on the gear shift until they reached her house. Ben carried the toilet paper while Heath toted laundry soap, the adults collecting the rest.

While Sarah put away groceries, Kendall and the boys went for a walk. Kendall learned where all of Heath and Ben's friends lived, names that Kendall recognized, but Hunter's wasn't mentioned, although Heath stared at his house for several seconds. By the time they reached home, he had forgotten that morning's comment, wanted to kick the soccer ball. "Mom's gonna make dinner," he said, scuffing his shoe along the front step.

"Ben, go inside and ask Sarah if she needs any help."

Kendall remained on the concrete as Ben went up the porch, opening the screen, then the door. "Mom, you need any help?"

Kendall smiled, having wanted just a minute with Heath. Instead Ben turned their way, smiling as Sarah said that no, she was just fine. Ben scrambled back down the stairs, grasping Kendall's hand.

Can they sense what happened last night, what's still occurring? Kendall chuckled as Heath sighed, then collected the soccer ball. It was just a few weeks old, but sported the wear of many months, mostly Kendall's doing. He kicked with controlled force, while Heath was just learning the rhythms. Yet, Heath was picking it up with more ease than Kendall had imagined when meeting him. I've only known these kids a little over a month, well, six weeks or so. And in six weeks, I've grown to love them, or maybe I loved them right off the bat, but I couldn't admit it. As for their mother.... Kendall gazed to the front screen door. Sarah was cooking in the kitchen, and he could almost see her through several walls; she was fixing spaghetti, garlic bread too. Heath had asked if Tamra and Uncle Jazz and Grandma could come over, but Sarah had said not that night.

That night it needed to be just a foursome, Kendall considered, crossing the road, then stepping into the field. Heath bounded ahead, kicking the ball with measured taps as Kendall had showed him. Ben wanted to send the ball as far as he was able, but Heath understood the finer points. Precise details remained for which he was ignorant, but that was all right. Heath's progress didn't need to be overnight, even if it seemed that Kendall had invaded their family that quickly.

As brothers played, Kendall glanced at the front of Sarah's house. His truck was parked behind her car, mud splattered on both vehicles. In that residence he had been brought back to life, also within this small stretch of landscape. He turned to the boys; Heath was trying to explain to Ben to not just kick the ball as hard as was possible. He needed to dribble it, which Ben didn't comprehend at all. Heath tried to show what he meant, but Ben laughed, booting the ball far away, or as far as a four-year-old could. He was four and a half, both boys celebrating their birthdays in July, Ben at the beginning, Heath near the end. Sarah's birthday was in mid-April; she would be thirty-one. Kendall smiled, those dates fixed in his brain, how his heart felt within his chest. He took a deep breath, then looked back to the road. The days were growing longer, but it was still cool out. Sarah had teased him about sultry Tennessee summers, nothing like San Diego's pleasant weather. She had looked up some facts about his birthplace, but only released that knowledge in bits and pieces.

It wasn't like how they had started sleeping together, although maybe it was similar to how they had finally made love. He ached thinking about how good she had felt, how beautiful she was. Then he gazed at her sons; one looked just like her, the other like his father, her late husband. But Jimmy had never touched Sarah as deeply as Kendall had.

Nor had Kendall ever felt so moved. He joined the boys, who were kicking the ball back and forth. Heath smiled, and Kendall winced, just for seconds. That child possessed another man's face, but not even that reminder had permeated Sarah. Now Kendall dwelled within her, and she wasn't even carrying his baby.

I don't want kids with her yet, not until these two know I'm here for good. I want them completely comfortable with my presence, with how much I love them. He knelt down as Ben ran his way. Catching the boy in his arms, Kendall's chest pounded. I am their father, not just within my heart, but all through me. Neither one looks like me, but appearances are deceiving. A man lives at Hunter's house, but what does that mean?

"I love you Kendall." Ben's voice was jolly, an unusual sound.

"I love you too." As Kendall gripped Ben, Heath's arms fell around them. Kendall closed his eyes, small pains shooting through his upper chest, down into his limbs. It wasn't just his heart finding its bearings, but his entire identity. His persona wasn't that of a sports star, but of a dad. "And I love you Heath. I really love you guys."

Heath laughed, then let go. "I wonder if Mom needs any help."

Kendall smiled, picking up Ben, whose arms were wrapped around Kendall's neck. "Like for what?" Ben asked.

"Like for trying the garlic bread." Heath dribbled the ball between his feet, then kicked it to the edge of the field. He ran after it, his voice carrying. "Beat you there!"

"Shall we go get him?" Kendall asked.

Ben shook his head, burying his face into the crook of Kendall's neck. They walked slowly back to the house, Heath tapping his foot, holding the screen door, telling them to hurry up.

After spaghetti and plenty of garlic bread, Kendall sat on the sofa, reading to Ben. Heath played with the Lego castle, long torn apart and rebuilt into various configurations. Then Sarah took her youngest for a bath. Kendall went to the floor; as Heath designed turrets and bridges, Kendall collected Legos, adding pieces here and there. When Ben emerged, dressed but damp, he snuggled into Kendall's lap. By the time Heath was done building for the night, Ben was almost asleep.

Sarah took him, then Kendall stood, toting him to bed. Heath brushed his teeth, then said _goodnight_ to Kendall. Sarah was the last to see Heath, closing the boys' door most of the way as she left the room. Kendall waited in the kitchen, drinking some water. "Well, that was quite a day," she began.

Kendall smiled, putting his empty cup in the sink. He stretched out his arms, and she went there just like Ben had, although Sarah didn't grip Kendall's neck. She encircled his waist, then pressed against his groin. "Let's give them ten or fifteen minutes. Then I wanna go to bed."

She kissed him, then giggled. "But we better wear something afterwards. Ben asked if he could sleep with us, and I told him _no_ , but we know how well he listens."

Kendall nodded, her words easing his heartbeat. With Ben in his lap, Kendall's heart had ached. Jimmy had probably cradled his son in a similar manner, what Ben had grown up with, was now becoming reacquainted to, albeit in another guise. Was fatherhood different from dad to dad? Well, of course it was, unless a child couldn't conjure the actual personality who started the parenting. Ben couldn't remember Jimmy, just the sense of stronger arms than Sarah possessed, a deeper voice employed. "I love him so much." Kendall swallowed hard, it had slipped. But he did love both of Sarah's sons, Jimmy's children. He loved Jimmy's wife too.

"They love you, Heath told me as I was saying goodnight. I could see his smile, I mean, I could feel it." She sighed, but not in sorrow. Then she stroked Kendall's chest. "Is this okay?"

It's the best medicine. "Yeah honey, it's great, it really is."

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Is it all right that they said that, I mean...."

"They love you," she said slowly. "They really do."

But isn't this too quick, too.... "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Kendall, bad things happen in the blink of an eye. Why shouldn't good things happen that fast?"

He had no answer, other than to kiss her. She responded, and they necked in the kitchen for those fifteen minutes. Then Kendall locked the front door as Sarah turned off the lights. They walked to their room holding hands, closing the bedroom door behind them.

### Chapter 16

By the middle of February, Kendall thought his heart was fully recovered, which seemed fortunate as Valentine's Day meant more to him than ever in his life. Sarah received three dozen red, yellow, and white roses and an enormous box of chocolates. They shared a quiet dinner alone in Cordova, outside of Memphis, where Kendall gave her a small rectangular box. She shook nervously while opening it; a gold chain with an opal pendant made her cry. A car key roused a quizzical smile. "And what's this?" she asked, the necklace in one hand, the key in the other.

"Well, you won't let me buy you a new car, so I got myself a bigger truck. It's waiting in Murfreesboro, we'll pick it up on Saturday."

He had spent some of his free time speaking with Greg Simmons at the Murfreesboro Chevy dealership; they would drive the Silverado there, returning with a year-old Colorado, navy blue, he said, but if she wanted a different color.... Sarah had wept in the restaurant, then again in his arms, sitting in the Silverado, before they drove home. Kendall said the neighbors would never know what was coming next, and Sarah laughed, then kissed him. By the time they got home, they nearly made love in the living room. Heath and Ben were at Adele's, and Sarah and Kendall took full advantage of a quiet house.

They didn't take the boys to collect the new truck, but brought back a small Lego set for them to share. Heath and Ben loved the Colorado, and Kendall bought a booster seat for Ben, just for that vehicle. Unspoken between Kendall and Sarah was the significance of those two purchases, and of her necklace. From Adele and Tamra, Kendall had learned that Sarah liked opals. Kendall wanted to buy Sarah everything under the sun, but since the end of January, he accepted the biggest gifts carried no price at all.

She permitted the new truck; it was his choice of transportation. Since Ben would start kindergarten in the fall, Sarah hadn't quit work, but she let Kendall buy the groceries, as he still did most of the cooking. He asked if he could add to the boys' college funds, and start one for Tamra. Sarah agreed to part of that request, but said he needed to speak to Jazz about Tamra. A week after Valentine's Day, roses still in vases, Adele, Jazz, and Tamra came over for dinner. Kendall made two meatloaves, but Sarah and her mother mashed the potatoes and fixed vegetables. Jazz only brought one six-pack, at Kendall's request. Since making love with Sarah, Kendall had cut back on his drinking. He hadn't eliminated it entirely; something about a few brews every couple of nights seemed to assuage the small throb within his chest. His heart was back in place, but occasionally a twinge flared.

The children played with Legos in the boys' room as the women tended to the side dishes. Kendall and Jazz sat in the living room, but shouts from the hallway drowned out what Kendall wanted to ask. "Step outside a minute?" he said to Jazz.

"Uh, sure."

They stood on the porch, dusk falling over the field. Kendall's beer was nearly finished, his second. He wouldn't open another, although he wanted to. The desire to drink, or rather, to get drunk, hadn't left him, but between loving Sarah, running, and feeling more like a father with each passing day, Kendall had steered clear of getting plastered. Sometimes Melba's voice wafted; he was young, had time to change. His hair was growing, his gut was shrinking. Looking at Jazz, who lived with only his daughter, Kendall cleared his throat. "I've been talking with Sarah, you know, about things."

Jazz smiled, sipping his beer. "What, you gonna ask if you can marry her?"

Kendall chuckled, then swigged what remained in his bottle. He set it on the porch floorboards, then looked across the street. He and Heath had worn paths in the field; Heath had a natural talent, what Kendall had mentioned to Sarah. Yet, Kendall wouldn't force the issue. Playing soccer had to be Heath's desire, not Kendall trying to live vicariously through him.

Heath and Ben were like Kendall's sons; if he and Sarah did marry, which Kendall also gave much thought to, he wanted to adopt them. "I do wanna marry her, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Jazz choked, then spat out his beer. "Shit," he muttered, wiping his mouth, then staring at Kendall. "You guys that serious?"

Kendall nodded, then laughed. Sarah had explained to Adele what Kendall meant, but she probably hadn't informed Jazz. "I'm that serious." Kendall stepped to the railing, gripping it carefully. He wanted to move from this house, only because it was small, the railing like the rest of it, in need of renovation. He had gotten a splinter from running his hand over the ancient wood, but Sarah liked her house, her car, and her bed. Kendall would need to take things slowly in that department, but he'd made generous provisions for Heath and Ben's future educations. He started with that, as Jazz's eyes grew wide. "So I'd like to do the same for Tamra. Just a lump sum, you know, something she can't touch until she's eighteen, and only for school."

Jazz chugged the rest of his beer, then put the bottle near Kendall's. "Are you shittin' me?"

"Nope." They have no idea how easy I could make their lives. Well, Sarah knows, but doesn't want that part intruding. And I understand, it's still new, even if I can't fathom living one day without her, Heath, and Ben. They are all that matter, and Adele, Jazz, and Tamra fall under the same umbrella, just like leaving the house to Natalie. It's only possessions, but also the meanings behind them. I've got more money than I can ever spend, so why not have some fun with it?

Kendall never heard from his former agent, but did correspond with his financial advisors in San Diego. Residuals from endorsements still gathered in accounts; Kendall might have walked away from soccer, but there was no way to stop deals that had been put in place ages ago. He had been fortunate in reaching the end of his contract right before he left FCSD. But every once in a while commercials he had made in Spain, Mexico, and South America circulated. Speaking Spanish had broadened his marketability, and his jerseys still sold. The season would be underway in weeks, and even in rural Tennessee, Kendall Schultz was still Kendall Schultz. Getting somewhat sober had reaffirmed that fact. So had all the afternoons kicking the ball with Heath.

He could never escape the game, but he could put it to work for him, and those he loved. "Jazz, it wouldn't be that big of a deal, I mean...." Kendall stared at Sarah's car, ten years old. He wouldn't say another thing about replacing it, would wait until it broke down. The boys were already giving her grief, preferring to go everywhere in the new truck. Heath was somewhat aware of Kendall's world-wide fame, but youth shielded him from what else that meant. Heath wouldn't be ignorant forever, but by the time he understood who Kendall was, Kendall would be legally related to him.

"Well shit Kendall, I don't know what to say."

Just say yes, make this easier than what your sister is doing. Kendall didn't mind that Sarah kept working; she liked her job, and he liked collecting Ben from day care, hearing Heath's stories after school. Kendall had discovered an affinity for being Mr. Mom, and he smiled, then cracked his knuckles. If she wanted to stay in this house a while longer, so what? Eventually the boys would wear her down, or a new baby might. By then, another bedroom would be essential.

Jazz motioned toward the field. "I can see where you and Heath run around out there. Gonna make it into a soccer, uh...."

"Pitch. It's called a pitch."

"A pitch, yeah. Well, he sure loves it, been playing since before...." Jazz cleared his throat.

"Before Jimmy died. Heath told me about that." About playing soccer, and what he remembers about his father. He loved him, still misses him, but is starting to forget what he looked and sounded like, although he says my accent's coming along. "I know Sarah was able to set up trust funds for the boys after Jimmy died, and I'd like to do the same for Tamra."

Jazz stared at Kendall, but didn't ask if Kendall had added to those accounts. "Well hell, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Sure. That'd be real...." He sighed. "Nice, I mean, thanks. Thank you very much."

"It's my pleasure." Kendall chuckled. "And Jazz?"

"Yeah?"

"When the day comes that I'm ready to ask Sarah, you know, about getting married, I'll be sure to run it by you first."

Kendall's voice was flat, but Jazz caught Kendall's twinkling eyes. Both men laughed, picking up their empty bottles, heading in the house.

Two weeks later, Kendall had arranged a trust fund for Tamra, but the adults said nothing to her about it, or to Heath and Ben about theirs. Sarah had allowed Kendall to pay the rent, but she didn't tell him why she had changed her mind. He didn't ask Jazz or Adele, but assumed one of them might have spoken to her about it. Kendall and Sarah talked openly about most other subjects, sometimes during the day, more often at bedtime. Ben still slipped into their room, now snuggling between them. But Kendall didn't press about getting a larger bed; he let Ben do the talking.

"Mommy, scoot over." It was nearly six, on a Saturday morning. Ben seemed to choose weekends for his visits, which made Kendall sigh. Yet he smiled when Ben complained there wasn't enough room. "Mommy!"

"Ben, if you don't hush...."

The little boy turned toward Kendall. "Daddy, tell Mommy to move over."

"Mommy...."

Sarah flopped in their direction, glaring at Kendall, who chuckled. He liked how _Mommy_ slipped from his tongue, but wasn't hinting for further additions. Kendall wanted to marry Sarah before anyone else joined them.

They would need a bigger bed, and a larger house, what Ben drawled. "Mommy, I'm getting squished!"

Sarah sat up. "There's plenty of room in your bed."

"Heath snores."

Kendall grabbed Ben, started tickling him. "If you're far away, I can't do this."

As Ben squealed, Sarah shrugged. "It's too early for this. I'm supposed to sleep in on Saturdays."

Kendall released Ben, then got out of bed. "I'll go start coffee."

"Don't go Daddy!"

Halfway to the door, Kendall turned around. Ben lay on his side, sucking in his tummy. "There's room, I'll share."

If Heath was here, everyone I need would be in one room. Why do I need them so much, how did this happen? Kendall sat on the edge of the mattress, ruffling Ben's hair. "You two go back to sleep. I'll make some coffee, then go for a run, then...."

Then come back to my family making a racket. How in the hell _did_ this happen, like did I step into an alternate universe? Kendall often considered that after lovemaking, Sarah warm and soft in his arms. Had soccer's absence allowed space for something that satisfied in a very lasting manner? Was it his age, coming on thirty-two? Sarah was just a year younger, they weren't kids. Her children were his now, as Ben curled around Kendall's waist, his short arms not quite able to reach around Kendall's gut.

Ben didn't speak, neither did Sarah, but tears on her cheeks were words enough. Kendall nodded, and once Ben let go, Kendall again lay down, wrapping most of his loved ones close.

Later that morning, after he'd gone for a run and taken a shower, Kendall approached Sarah, who was washing dishes. The house was quiet; the boys ran around the yard, kicking the ball. "I love you," Kendall whispered in her ear.

She nodded. Then she turned off the water, removed rubber gloves. She faced him, tracing his scar. "I love you too. Sometimes this doesn't seem real."

"I know. I was writing to Wilson yesterday, trying to explain it." Kendall smiled. Delia was nearly due, and Wilson was earning frequent flier miles jetting between California and Alabama. "He told me to enjoy it." And he asked if I was thinking about playing again.

"How's his wife?"

"Big, tired. Wishing she'd gone with him to California." Wilson had also implied that he was starting to consider retirement; he was only thirty-two, but ached for Delia and their boys. Then Kendall shivered. He had never imagined what it was like for his teammates who didn't live near their families. Kendall stroked Sarah's face. "I never wanna be away from you."

A few tears fell down her cheeks. "I don't want that either."

He gripped her. How in the hell can Wilson get on that plane? How does Delia let him? Maybe it's because they've been married a while. Kendall let Sarah pull away, then he smiled. "She's due in a couple of weeks. Maybe we can go visit them during Easter vacation."

Sarah smiled. "Are you ready for something like that?"

I don't want to go to California yet, but Alabama? Sure. We'll fly, just a hop from Memphis to Montgomery. One of these days I'll have to make a longer trip, but for now.... "Let's take the boys, we'll see what it's like, traveling together."

Is this like asking her to marry me? Maybe I need to ask Jazz; can I take your sister past the state line? We could drive to Alabama, but this would be more fun for the boys, and less time on the road. And Mom is starting to pester me about when I'm bringing you all to San Diego. "Sarah, let me talk to Wilson and Delia, see if she wouldn't mind some guests. Unless this's too soon, you know...."

Not too soon for Delia, but for us. We are an _us_ now, and maybe if this works out, perhaps in summer we can.... My God, could I actually go back there? Kendall kissed Sarah. Yes, with you and the boys, and maybe by then, I'll even want to. "Honey, think about it. If you don't wanna...."

"I've never been on a plane." Sarah looked at the floor, then met his eyes. "But maybe a short flight would be a good start for everybody."

Kendall smiled, then pulled her close again. "Just a hop, skip, and a jump. That's all it would be."

After a short chat with Wilson, then Delia, plans were made. The boys were thrilled; they had never been out of Tennessee. Tamra sulked until Kendall broached a possible summer vacation to San Diego; if they went, Tamra would come too. He had spoken to Jazz about that, over a few beers, once Sarah gave her approval. Not that they were definitely going to California in June or July, but if they did, Tamra was indeed invited to join them.

Sarah had told Kendall that once the kids knew of that possibility, there would be no way to get out of it. Kendall told Sarah it might take the kids' pressure to get him to California. In the meantime, tickets were purchased, a hotel room and rental car were arranged. The flight to Montgomery was less than half an hour, but would be good practice for a much longer journey west. Wilson wouldn't be able to join them, it was just long enough for Kendall to introduce Sarah and the boys to those he considered part of his inner circle, a start, he told Sarah. She agreed.

Kendall never considered living anywhere but Summerland. Yet, his heritage wasn't southern, he was a Californian. He couldn't excise that, or soccer; he would have to weave those facets into who he was becoming, which was a father, he admitted to Wilson. He was also closer to complete sobriety; Sarah had told Jazz not to bring over any more beer. A small craving still gnawed at Kendall, which he shared with only Sarah. He had never known that sort of temptation, and it was a little frightening. He had walked away from sport without a single hesitation. Abstinence was proving a slightly tougher fight.

Jazz drove them to the Memphis International Airport, Heath and Ben silent as they approached. The boys had been discreet when around Tamra, but boisterous otherwise, yet the terminal overwhelmed. Sarah gave Kendall a look; he wasn't the only one noting a change.

Without incident they checked in, then went through security. Heath and Ben gripped Kendall's hands, which steadied his nerves. This might be the smallest airport he had ever encountered, but it was the first time he had flown without teammates or Natalie or his parents when little. It was the first time Kendall Schultz had flown as a family man.

They settled at the gate, then Ben needed to pee. Kendall took him, and leaving the restroom, they were stopped by two teens asking for Kendall's autograph. He smiled, signing his name, somewhat surprised to be recognized. His hair was still short, his beer gut noticeable. But his scar remained; maybe he would always be in the public eye. Ben said nothing until they reached their seats. "Why'd they stop us?"

"Who stopped you?" Sarah asked.

"Some guys." Ben hopped into his seat, then fidgeted. "They asked Daddy for his, what was that they asked you for?"

Kendall smiled, taking his chair, which faced a large window. Sarah and Heath hadn't seen the exchange. "Someone asked for my autograph."

"Who asked?" Heath turned around, then gazed at Kendall. "Someone knew who you were?"

"Who?" Sarah's interest was piqued too.

"A couple of teenagers." Kendall sighed. Then he smiled. "Guess I'm still on someone's radar."

"Are you gonna play soccer again, you know, professionally?" Heath spoke slowly.

"Nope. I'm professionally the chief cook and bottle washer of the Dwyer household."

Sarah smiled, but Heath raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"That means for better or worse you're stuck with me." Kendall looked at Sarah when he said it.

Heath laughed, so did Ben. Sarah gave a small smile, then gazed at planes, taking off in the distance.

Kendall had never held a baby, but Cassandra Givens fit into his grasp with no trouble. Heath and Ben paid her little mind, too busy playing with Marcus and Troy. Those four boys spent most of the visit in the backyard, while three adults and one tiny girl chatted in the house, or on the patio. Cassandra was a placid baby, unlike her brothers, Delia smiled. Wilson's absence was odd at first, but Delia and Sarah got along well, their southern cadences a resounding balm to Kendall's ears. Delia and the children were heading for California as soon as Marcus was out of school, and Delia noted her boys would love some summer pals.

Heath's extra years over Marcus made little difference; they hooted and hollered from morning till night. Kendall and Sarah didn't do any local sightseeing; this was strictly to test some waters, Kendall with his family, what Delia said, as well as incorporating a bit of California into Tennessee via a detour through Alabama. Unspoken was the baby herself, but Kendall was smitten, and his heart barely noted the added weight. Delia didn't mention Melissa Alspach, neither did Kendall. All Delia said was that she couldn't wait to see them in a few months. Kendall nodded, and Sarah did too.

By the end, Heath and Ben were fast friends with Marcus and Troy, who barely recalled Kendall from last December. Delia said Kendall looked good with longer hair and an abridged tummy. She didn't enquire about soccer; it was rarely mentioned, except between four youngsters who kicked balls through small goalposts. When Kendall and Sarah said goodbye, Delia hugged them tightly, thanking them for breaking up the relative quiet. Kendall could see how much she missed her husband, her tears falling as a baby started to cry.

On the drive to the airport, the boys talked about their new friends. Kendall said nothing, holding Sarah's hand. He was equally subdued as they checked in, again going through security, then reaching their gate. That time, Heath needed the bathroom, and Kendall accompanied.

As they left the restroom, two men approached, asking if Kendall was indeed the soccer star. Kendall nodded, smiled, signing slips of paper. When they reached Sarah and Ben, who were seated facing the terminal's interior, Ben's arms were crossed over his chest. "Are you really that famous?"

Those nearby looked their way. Kendall had never previously batted an eye, but this made him uncomfortable. He sat beside Ben, who then wanted on Kendall's lap. Sarah smiled at her son's possessiveness. "He played soccer for a long time Ben, and not just in San Diego."

"I'm still your daddy," Kendall whispered in Ben's ear. Then he ruffled Ben's hair, smiling at Heath, who nodded.

Ben frowned. Then he moved from Kendall to Sarah, burrowing into her.

Kendall started to speak, but Sarah shook her head. The flight was called, and they boarded, sitting in the rear of the small plane. Kendall would buy first class tickets when they went to California; it was no longer an _if_ , but he would need to make more detailed plans for that vacation, which included Tamra's presence. He wondered what Marcus and Troy would think of a girl joining their ranks, thoughts that kept Kendall busy when Heath wasn't asking him questions.

Ben said nothing to Kendall until they collected their suitcases. As Kendall toted them, Ben sighed. "I don't wanna go anywhere again."

"What're you talking about?" Heath asked. "I can't wait to go to California!"

Ben grumbled and Sarah carried him to where Jazz waited outside the terminal.

No more was said until bedtime, when Kendall tucked Ben into bed. "I love you," Kendall said. "Sleep well."

Heath was already snoring, and Kendall stood. Then he squatted as Ben whimpered. "What is it?" Kendall asked.

"Are you gonna stay there, not come back here?"

"We're all coming back here. Ben, I love you. I don't wanna live anywhere but Tennessee."

Ben sat up, then grabbed Kendall's neck. "Don't leave, promise me you won't leave!"

His small voice severed some of the newly attached arteries in Kendall's chest. Kendall nearly fell over from the pain, gripping Ben. "I'm not going anywhere, I love you Ben, you and Heath and your mom. I love you buddy."

He hadn't called the boys anything other than their names, although Sarah was often _honey_ , sometimes _baby_ or _sugar_ , but only late at night, within their room. "Ben, it's okay, oh Ben...."

Kendall picked him up, Ben's tears falling onto Kendall's shoulder. Kendall carried him into the living room where Sarah waited on the sofa. Ben nestled against Kendall's chest, still whimpering.

Sarah crooned to her son, smoothing his hair. After five minutes, Ben pulled away, leaning toward his mother. But he remained within Kendall's grasp. "Ben, sometimes we're gonna have to share Kendall. People know who he is and they wanna tell him how much they liked how he used to play. But that doesn't take him away from us."

Ben nodded, then stared at Kendall. "You promise you'll never go away?"

Quickly Kendall glanced at Sarah, who shook her head. "Well, I promise I won't leave just to go away. But Ben, I can't promise that I won't die. No one can promise that." If it was Heath, Kendall wouldn't be so blatant.

Ben sighed. "Well, o-kay." Then he grimaced. "But people should leave you alone. You don't play soccer anymore."

"Nope, I sure don't, except with you and Heath."

Ben nodded. "I'll share, I guess."

"That's very generous of you." Sarah's voice was steady, but Kendall saw her smile.

Ben grumbled again, then moved from Kendall's lap. He stood, facing both adults. "Can I sleep with you guys tonight?"

"Nope. Bed's too small." Kendall fought a grin.

"Humph. Well, can't you get a bigger bed?"

"Talk to your mother."

Ben turned toward Sarah, who stood from the couch. "We're not discussing that now." She picked up her son, then smirked at Kendall. "Say goodnight Ben."

"Goodnight Daddy. I will see you tomorrow."

Ben's tone was an order and Kendall nodded. "Goodnight Ben. I'll see you tomorrow too." Kendall stood, locking the front door. He turned off the lights, meeting Sarah outside their door. "Well?"

She shrugged, then kissed him. Then she stepped into their room. Kendall followed her, closing the door. Lately Ben had complained when they didn't leave a small crack, but this way, they might hear if he did try to join them.

### Chapter 17

In the middle of April, Sarah celebrated her birthday with a family dinner at Adele's. Take-out pizza was Sarah's choice, but Adele had baked a cake, the decorations added by all three kids. Presents were nothing out of the ordinary; Adele bought her daughter a blouse, Jazz got his sister some chocolates. Tamra had made her aunt a bookmark with pressed flowers, and Heath and Ben gave their mother three novels she had mentioned, purchased by Kendall. He bought Sarah two dozen roses, red and white. Those remained at their house, presented to her the night before.

After the last gift was set aside, Kendall cleared his throat, then handed Sarah a card. Everyone's been waiting for this, he thought, watching her open it with shaky hands. I hope she likes it.

Sarah read the front, careful to keep the card closed. A ribbon ran around the front, and Kendall smiled, as she blinked away tears. She nodded at him, her blue eyes shining, but the card was quite sappy; he had spent twenty minutes at Walmart choosing just the right sentiment. It wasn't labeled to a wife or girlfriend, but was very precise in the meaning, and that was just the initial verse. As Sarah opened it, Tamra and Heath begged to know what it said, and if anything else was included.

"You two hush." Adele waved her hand at them, but leaned toward her daughter.

"Daddy, why's Mommy crying?" Ben asked Kendall.

"Just wait," Kendall smiled.

Sarah read the inside verse, then pulled a small folded sheet from the inner ribbon. She glanced at Kendall while reading that note. Her lips trembled, tears falling down her cheeks. She nodded at him, then set the card and paper on the table. "Yes," she said, her voice soft but certain. "Yes I will."

Tamra picked up the note as Adele and Jazz reprimanded her otherwise, but they weren't overly chastising. "Oh my gosh," Tamra shouted. "Kendall asked Aunt Sarah to...."

"To what?" Heath grabbed the sheet, then laughed. "Oh wow, that's a funny way to ask someone to marry you."

By then, Sarah was in Kendall's arms, sobbing against his shoulder. Ben complained that he wanted back in his father's embrace as Tamra grabbed the note from Heath. Adele ordered her granddaughter to set the note back on the table while a melee broke out in the living room.

"I love you. Figured you wouldn't say _no_ in front of everyone." Kendall whispered that in Sarah's ear, then kissed her damp face. Then he looked at Jazz, who smiled. Just yesterday Kendall had told Sarah's brother that he was thinking of asking her, but hadn't indicated it would be any time soon. Jazz had joked that it was probably all right, no inkling of what Kendall had actually planned.

As cake was eaten, a few details were decided. Kendall wanted to marry in Tennessee, but wasn't concerned whether it was before or after their trip to San Diego, which also seemed to be confirmed. Tamra wanted to talk more about that, but Adele steered the conversation back to a wedding. "Maybe you should do it after California. I mean, you'll want your folks to be here."

Unspoken was Adele's small worry that Kendall's family might not like Sarah. Kendall knew of this anxiety, not that he had talked to Adele, but that Sarah had mentioned it. "My mother would shoot all of us if we got hitched without them to see it."

Tamra and Heath laughed, as Kendall's tone sounded vaguely southern. Jazz smiled, while Sarah squeezed Kendall's hand, but Ben frowned. "They wouldn't _really_ shoot you, would they?"

"Nearly." Kendall scooped Ben onto his lap. Then Kendall looked at Sarah. "What I was thinking was that if we went out in June, then they could all come here in August, before the kids go back to school. Don't know Lindsay and Brendan's schedules, but I'm sure they could get time off, or we'll just work around them." I do want them here, Natalie and Dr. Ron too if possible. I'd also love to have the Givenses and Harners, hell, even Herm Schlatter. Not Melissa, that would be.... Something that would have only happened if Casey was alive.

Kendall stared at Heath; every day this boy was less like Casey and more of Kendall's son. He had yet to address adopting the boys, although he was certain Sarah assumed he might ask. Heath didn't call him Dad, but as with Ben, Kendall considered Heath his own child. It wasn't Jimmy's fault that these children were left fatherless, it was fate, karma, something destined to occur. Kendall's whole life had been geared for one purpose until an accident intervened. If Casey hadn't died, Kendall might be back with FC San Diego by now.

By now, he would have figured out a family was his desire. But he wouldn't have traipsed around the globe looking to lose himself. He would have met someone, probably, maybe; who the hell knows? But what did occur led him to this house in Summerland, Tennessee. Here was where his life came back together. That it was just months ago mattered not. Sarah had been right; bad things fell like rain, but good things did too.

"Well, I think that seems reasonable. We'll have a vacation with the kids, all the kids." Sarah smiled at Tamra. "Then Kendall and I will slip away, just the two of us."

"Just the two of you?" Ben said.

"For a honeymoon." Kendall ruffled Ben's hair. "I love you, but that's just for your mom and me."

"You and Heath'll stay here with Grandma," Sarah smiled, taking a bite of cake. "And I know just where I wanna go."

Tamra and Heath begged for a hint, but Sarah refused to say. Adele and Jazz asked Sarah where the ceremony should be, as Ben pouted about not getting to go on the honeymoon. Kendall let their gentle, southern tones into his heart, not caring where Sarah wanted to spend a week or two alone, or the location of their nuptials there in town. All that was pertinent was her initial _yes_ , as soon as she had digested his proposal. She had agreed to marry him and nothing else mattered.

Telling his parents was another issue; Kendall knew they would be shocked, especially since they had yet to meet the Dwyers. He called his dad the following day, after Sarah left for work, the boys deposited at school and day care. Father and son chatted about the Mercedes, which was running like a top. Then Kendall coughed. "So Dad, I have some news."

First he mentioned coming to California, over which Chris was thrilled. "For how long? You know, you're all welcome to stay here at the house."

"Well, I think I'll get a hotel. I promised the boys a pool." Kendall inhaled. "Plus I think we're gonna do a few days at Disneyland and...."

"Oh of course, sure." Chris chuckled. "Do it up right, huh?"

Kendall nodded as though his father was there in the room. "Yeah, we'll have Sarah's niece too. Tamra's ten and...."

"Oh well, that's nice to include her."

"Uh-huh." After a small pause, Kendall cleared his throat. "Dad, there's something else I wanna tell you, Mom too. Is she there?"

"Brenda!" Chris called for her again. "Hmmm. Maybe she stepped outside, let me go find her."

Kendall smiled. He had called his dad's cell, but Chris acted like he was stuck to a landline. After a minute, Kendall could hear his mother's voice in the background. "Dad, maybe just put it on speakerphone."

"Oh yeah, that's smart. Okay, you still hear me?"

The sound had grown a little tinny. "Yeah, I hear you just fine. Hi Mom."

"Hi honey. So Chris says you're coming home?"

Kendall winced. "I'm bringing Sarah and the boys and her niece Tamra out this summer. For a visit," he added.

"Oh that's lovely. When?"

Kendall repeated the particulars, including Disneyland, as Brenda had offered the same accommodations as her husband. Then Kendall coughed again. "So, actually besides coming out there, I've got some news."

His parents drew eager breaths; they think I'm going to say that while we're there, I'll be house hunting. That I'm coming home, what Mom said first thing off the bat. I'm moving back, going to play again. Kendall took a breath, then let it out. "I've asked Sarah to marry me and she's said yes. We're thinking about August if you guys don't have that month already booked up."

He spoke quickly, inhaling between _yes_ and _We're_ , letting it out after _up_. Okay, you can say something now. Mom, Dad, anyone there?

"You're getting married. In August." Brenda took another breath. "Well, that's very...."

"Nice," Chris finished. "Really great son. That's wonderful."

Kendall smiled. Dad, Mom, I love you guys, even if you sound like I just said I was moving to Mars. "I know this probably seems a little out of the blue but...." But my whole life changed when Casey died. I can't expect to make you understand, because from here I can see the absolute disbelief on your faces. Not that you will disown me or anything, just that since I was little, since I started playing soccer, you knew what was going to happen to me, the same with Brendan and Lindsay. Our identities were filtered through sports and music. But Mom, Dad, I'm not that man anymore, I'm a father, really. And no, Sarah's not pregnant, that's not why I'm going to marry her. "But I love her, and while bad things can happen in seconds, good things can too."

"Oh Kendall!" Brenda's voice rose.

That's truly what this is about, embracing the positive. Casey and Jimmy are dead, but that doesn't mean life ceases. Melissa's having her sister's baby, and I've fallen in love with a woman and her kids. They're mine now too, even if I still need to talk to Sarah about formalities. "Mom, Dad, maybe I've kept this close to my vest." I know I have, because to talk about it aloud felt dangerous, like jinxing something. But that's just a superstition. I used to be consumed with a game, and human relationships were shunted to the side. And around those who knew me then, I'm still leery of being who I am now, which is more demonstrative and open than you have ever seen me. Natalie's going to be shocked, my siblings too, but not as much as my parents, who for nearly thirty-two years thought they knew me best. They assumed I was fully devoted to sport, to Natalie. Those altered completely, but I haven't been that forthcoming about what took their places. "Sarah's everything to me, Heath and Ben are too. I can't wait for you to meet them and...."

Now Chris cleared his throat. "Kendall, you just met her...."

"And now you wanna get married?" Brenda sighed.

Kendall stifled a laugh. "Yeah, it does sound sudden. She's not pregnant, if that's what you're thinking."

Another long pause. I know that's what they're thinking, but I'm still a responsible person, still their son. Actually, we don't want to have kids for another year or so. Ben needs more time, not that he's worried, but, well, he is worried. Funny though, as Heath seems perfectly fine with everything. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry to sorta drop this on you over the phone." Better however than if we had just arrived on your doorstep and the kids blurted it. "I still need to buy her a ring. I just proposed to her last night, so I wanted to tell you guys next." Don't worry, Brendan and Lindsay don't know. Natalie doesn't even have any idea.

"Kendall, it's just so sudden." Brenda sounded near tears. "I mean, I'm sure she's a lovely woman but...."

"But she has two sons and...." Chris coughed.

"And what about playing soccer?" Now Brenda was crying. "Honey, that was your whole life, and I know you needed time away, but do you really think you can just turn your back on all you've worked for?"

"Mom, Dad, I love you both, so much. You made it possible for me to do all that, but...." But even before Casey was dead, I knew it wasn't enough. I needed something far more satisfying than a game. More than Natalie could give me, bless her heart. Kendall laughed, a phrase Adele sometimes said. "But in the last fifteen, sixteen months, I've learned so much about who I really am." Actually in the last four months; before that all I had learned was how easy it was becoming an alcoholic. And if I truly wanted to blow you away, I could mention that I still crave a beer every once in a while, but I haven't had anything to drink in nearly five weeks. Yes, I've been keeping track, like going to AA fully aware of the last time I had any alcohol. I can tell you when that occurred, right before we went to Montgomery, three beers with Jazz one evening. Then I quit, but I still ache for it. However, I've already dropped enough of a bomb. "Right before Casey died, I had a feeling I wanted more than soccer. I wanted a family." Kendall swallowed, but nothing hurt. Then he smiled. "Natalie didn't want kids, but I did, I just needed to accept that. Then everything went to hell and...." I got lucky. Mom, Dad, you have no idea how blessed I am.

"Kendall, honey, we love you, we just want you to be happy."

"I know Mom, and I'm sorry if this scares you, because yeah, it's a lot." It's more than I can tell you. Sarah is everything to me, but in two months, you'll see for yourselves. "Listen, just know that I've never been happier in my whole life. Sarah and the boys, God, they just...." He laughed, blinking away tears. "They just fill everything in me that was...." I can't say _empty_ , because my folks won't understand. "Needing a place. Ben calls me Daddy and I love it, I really, really do."

Brenda had stepped away, her sobs slowly fading in the background. Chris again cleared his throat. "Son, I'll call you back. Kenny, we love you. We just wanna be sure you know the implications of all that you've said."

"Dad, I do. You taught me that honesty was implicit in living a good life, that family mattered. It just wasn't meant to happen there in California. We're gonna get married here, and this's where I'm gonna live. I just want you to be here, if you can." They'll be here, no way would they miss it. "And like I said, we'll be out there, probably for ten to fourteen days as soon as Heath and Tamra are out of school. Ben's in day care now, he'll start kindergarten in the fall. I wanna have the wedding before that, just need to check Brendan and Lindsay's schedules so they can be there too."

See, I am thinking about these things. Yes, it's sudden, but just the engagement. Kendall closed his eyes, hearing his father repeat some of that to Brenda. How far away had she stepped, Kendall wondered. I can't hear her crying anymore.

"Ken, we love you. Just be sure son. This sort of decision shouldn't be made lightly."

Staring at the family photo, which still hung on Sarah's living room wall, Kendall nodded. "Dad, I've never been more certain of anything in my life. Tell Mom I love her, and don't say anything to Brendan or Lindsay. I'll call them in a while."

Chris muttered _goodbye_ , then the line went dead. Kendall glanced at the phone, the image of his parents' pleased faces on the screen not at all how they looked at that moment.

Kendall spoke to his sister first, then his brother. Both expressed astonishment, Lindsay more so than Brendan. Lindsay assured Kendall she would be in Summerland whenever he wanted and Brendan said the same. Kendall didn't ask his brother to be his best man, as Sarah hadn't indicated if she wanted any attendants. Plenty of time remained for those issues to be decided.

Then Kendall called Natalie, leaving a message. She got back to him after lunch; they spent a short time catching up, then he told her. She was quiet, then she sniffled. Then she blew her nose. "Oh Kendall, God, that's great news!"

It is, wow. Natalie, I love you. "Yeah, it really is."

"How'd your folks take it?"

"Well...." They think I've lost my mind. "They were surprised."

Natalie chuckled. "Just surprised?"

"Mom cried, was bawling actually."

"Happy tears or...."

"No, not really."

Natalie sighed. "I saw her two weeks ago, we have lunch together sometimes."

Kendall smiled. It sounds like a confession. "And what'd you two talk about?"

"You, of course. She and your dad wonder if you're ever coming back. But you're not, are you."

She didn't phrase it as a question. "No I'm not, except as a tourist. I love it here and...."

"It's home now."

"Yeah, this's home."

"Kendall, oh honey, that's really fantastic. So, when and where and...."

He shared the few facts, feeling more certain every time he said _August_ and _Summerland_ and _wife_. He was going to make Sarah his wife, which roused his chuckles. "And just in case you're curious, she's not pregnant."

Natalie giggled, then grew quiet. Then she cleared her throat, which made Kendall chuckle; more clearing of throats today than ever in my life.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. What were you gonna say?"

"Kendall, really, this's wonderful. I can hear it in your voice. I'm sorry Brenda and Chris were, well, taken aback, but...."

Kendall laughed. "Taken aback is putting it mildly. Natalie, thank you, really. Thanks for...."

"Honey, all that matters is that you're happy."

Natalie, if you were here right now, I'd kiss you. Yes, you do understand, you and my siblings, well, Brendan does, but I've probably written more about Sarah to him than to my sister. And truthfully, I've basically said squat to my parents, which wasn't very fair. But maybe I knew how they would react, sort of like Ben when this all started; what the hell? Exactly like Ben, because yeah, I'm getting married after just knowing Sarah for what, three and a half months? But people fall in love at first sight all the time, and not all of those relationships fall apart. Plus, there is Ben and Heath; I love them too. Maybe once Mom and Dad see me as a father, they'll understand, or at least not think I'm certifiable. "Natalie, God, I can't thank you enough for being so...."

"Kendall, you don't need to explain it to me."

No, I guess I don't. "So, can we address the invitation to you and Dr. Ron?"

"Sure. Just be prepared it will probably only be me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, unless he can find a minute to unhook himself from the ER." Her voice was light.

"Well, okay, just wondering."

"Kendall?"

"Yeah?"

"What're you gonna do?"

"Well, we'll probably pick a weekend in early August and...."

"No, I mean about soccer."

Soccer? Oh yeah, I used to play and get paid for it. In a way, I'm still getting paid, residuals, you know. "Natalie, did I tell you I can make Mom's meatloaf blindfolded?"

"Yeah?" she laughed.

"Yup. I'm the chief cook and bottle washer of the Dwyer household." Kendall smiled, then felt a strange tug along arteries firmly in place. I said that to Heath when we were flying to Montgomery and it's the truth. Call me Mr. Mom, call me whatever you want, but soccer is the past. "I play with Heath, Ben too, if he's feeling surly." Kendall explained how Ben only joined them if he was in need of attention. "Natalie, maybe this sounds weird, but unless Heath wants to kick the ball, I never think about it." It's like when my heart returned, soccer died, that was the trade-off. Really. I'm not trying to convince anyone, it's just that suddenly soccer means hanging out with my sons. Oh my God. "Natalie, I'm a dad now." His tone was of amazement; I really am their father. And soon Sarah will be my wife. And maybe we will get pregnant before the year ends. Who knows what's going to happen next?

"I can hear it in your voice. You really love them. All of them."

"I really do."

Natalie sniffled again. "Kendall, when you take the kids to Disneyland, can I come too?"

He laughed. "Uh, sure. I didn't know you were such a fan of the place."

"I'm not," she giggled. "I just wanna see you with them. Unless you think Sarah will mind."

"No, she won't mind." She knows what you mean to me, and all that you did for me after Casey died. "That'd be cool. We'll make a day of it."

"Just one day," Natalie laughed. "That's probably all of the Magic Kingdom I could take."

"One day sounds great." We'll be there for three, maybe four, really let the kids get it out of their systems. Maybe on the second or third day, Natalie can be our guest. I want them to know her, because after all this time, she understands me better than almost anyone. Sarah knows me best. Natalie comes second.

A distant second, but second nonetheless. "And maybe you'll come with us when we take them to the zoo and Sea World and...." Kendall noted other San Diego pastimes, perhaps a Padres game, as well as a visit to FC San Diego's pitch. Then he stopped talking. "Natalie, what?"

She was crying very softly, but Kendall wouldn't have missed those tears. "Natalie, hey, you okay?"

"You said _us_ , oh Kendall...."

What, is she mad that _us_ doesn't include her anymore? "Hey Natalie, it's all right, look, I'm sorry, I'm...."

"You're in love, you have a family." Natalie paused to blow her nose. "Kendall, that's the best thing in the world."

Yeah, it is. My God Natalie Koslow, you really do understand. "Honey, thanks. I mean...."

She giggled through tears. "Just send me an email when you have the dates so I can set a few aside. And tell Sarah thank you, from me. Tell her...." Natalie's voice trailed off, dissolving in sobs.

But they weren't the fearful wails Brenda had wept. Kendall could feel Natalie's warmth and comprehension, and he ached to hold her. "I'll tell her Natalie. I promise."

Kendall spent that afternoon running errands. That night in bed, he held Sarah in his arms, telling her the varied reactions. She shirked from his parents' confusion, admitted she hadn't considered a maid of honor, then wept over Natalie's teary pleasure for them. "Is she really happy for us?"

Kendall kissed Sarah's forehead. "She really is." Lindsay and Brendan are too, but like the folks, they're also wary. "She wants to spend a day at Disneyland with us if that's okay."

Sarah nodded. "I really wanna meet her."

"She really wants to meet you too."

Sarah nuzzled against Kendall's chest. "You think your parents will stay there in August?"

Not once they see how much you mean to me. "Not a chance in hell."

She giggled, then sighed. "Maybe I'll ask Tamra to be my maid of honor. Then you can have Brendan for your best man."

Kendall smiled, running his hands along her sides. "She'd love that. And the boys can be groomsmen. Or Heath can. Ben can be the ring bearer."

Sarah kissed Kendall, then stroked his chest. "I think Ben'll prefer to stand right beside you."

"Whatever makes him happy." Kendall responded to her attentions and soon they were making love.

Afterwards, Sarah caressed his face. "Kendall, I know where I wanna go for the honeymoon."

"Yeah?" He smiled. "Sarah, I went looking for rings today and...."

She giggled. "Don't you care where I wanna go?"

"Don't you think I should give you a ring first?"

"I don't want an engagement ring. Unless you've already bought one."

He laughed quietly. "I just looked. Natalie gave me hell that I'd asked you but not gotten you a ring first."

"I just want a wedding band. Nothing fancy, I mean, I had a plain one before, that's was fine."

Did Jimmy give you an engagement ring, and you think that's bad luck? "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

"Okay honey. Whatever you want."

She kissed him, then snuggled close. "Does that include for the honeymoon too?"

"Of course."

"Good."

Kendall waited for her to speak, but she nestled beside him further. She's gone as far as anyone ever has, but somehow I know other levels are waiting to be plumbed. He smiled. "Sarah, where do you wanna go?"

"Memphis," she giggled.

Kendall moved back, staring at her. Memphis? Memphis? I could take you to any single spot on this planet, and you want to go to Memphis? "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "I've never been there as a tourist. I'd like to visit Graceland and Sun Studio and...." She laughed. "I know that probably sounds silly but...."

Kendall kissed her, then chuckled. "Honey, wherever you wanna go."

"It's just that I've always wanted to see those places. Jimmy didn't want to, I mean, he was there five days a week and...."

"Can we stay in a really good hotel?"

She smiled. "Yes, why?"

"Just because I've been at the Nearly Memphis Motel and there's no room service."

Sarah tapped his nose. "Room service, huh?"

"Yes, Ms. Dwyer, room service. There's a small clause in that proposal's fine print that you might not have read."

"And what'd it say?"

Kendall sat up, pulling her close. "That any woman consenting to being Mrs. Kendall Schultz has to permit the inclusion of room service. We'll practice in California, see how it works. If you have an issue with it...."

"Then maybe the wedding's off?" she teased.

"Oh, no. We'll just move into a hotel until you get the hang of it."

Things are changing Sarah, not just for me. Soccer's out of the picture, but equally, room service and other amenities are going to make inroads. "Honey, I love you. I can't wait to see Elvis' kitchen. Gotta be bigger than ours."

His tone was gentle and Sarah nodded. "Kendall, maybe we can look for a new house. After we get back from Memphis."

"Sure. We'll take notes while we're there."

She giggled. "Does everything have to change?"

"Just your last name." And the boys' too. We can live here, sleep in this small bed, just as long as I can make you all Schultzes.

"Kendall, Heath asked me something tonight, when you were giving Ben his bath."

"Yeah?"

"He asked if, if...."

"Sarah, what?"

"He wanted to know if I was going to be Sarah Schultz. And I said _uh-huh_. Then he asked if he could be Heath Schultz." She wiped her cheeks. "And he wanted to know about Ben too."

Kendall's heart raced, and he smiled. "Sarah, I wanna adopt them, oh my God yes."

She nodded, then burrowed against him. I think you just asked _me_ to marry _you_ , Sarah Dwyer. But I don't need an engagement ring either. Our sons are a force more binding than any band. "Honey, I've been meaning to ask you but...."

Sarah pulled away, then brushed aside Kendall's tears. "I should've said something, but it seemed too forward, I mean...."

It's like room service, or going to Memphis, but not just for shopping. Something you don't really think about until you can't imagine anything else. "Sarah, I'll call my lawyer in the morning. He can set us up with someone here unless you know of somebody...."

The only attorney you've dealt with is the one who settled with the asshole who killed your husband. "Sarah, I'm sorry, I...."

"Call him now. It's not that late in California, right?"

"Now?" Kendall grinned.

"Unless he'd be upset, but it's like room service, right? Any hour of the day or night?"

Kendall laughed. "If he doesn't answer, I'll leave a message."

Sarah nodded. "That's fine. We have a few months. And Kendall?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to stay in a nice hotel. Maybe Graceland will be boring, Sun Studio too. Maybe we'll just stay in our room the whole time."

Kendall chuckled, then let out a husky moan. "Oh God Sarah, maybe we'll do just that."

### Chapter 18

Three days after Heath and Tamra finished the school year, Kendall escorted his family and Sarah's niece through the Memphis Airport. Heath was nonchalant, but Tamra was as awed as her cousin had been a few months back. Kendall was asked for his autograph and while Ben still didn't like it, he didn't ask questions. Tamra didn't either, but like Heath, she better understood Kendall's place in the world. Then she shivered; if it was like that here, in Tennessee, how would it be when they reached California?

While Heath was calm in Memphis, arriving at the Atlanta Airport he stayed close to Kendall, and for the first time, Heath called Kendall _Dad_. Sarah held Tamra's hand as Kendall toted Ben, Heath grasping Kendall's hand. Heath called him _Dad_ three times, each occurrence right after Kendall had been asked for his signature. Tamra wasn't aware of the significance, but Sarah glanced at Kendall at all three moments, seeing slight anxiety in Kendall's eyes. His hair was close to how he had looked as a player, and while he wasn't as thin as before, the beer gut was nearly gone. He ran every other day for over an hour, but still made allowances for walks with Ben. He looked very different from when Sarah had met him, but the change had been so gradual, she had grown used to his current appearance. A few others were too.

They waited for their plane to board, a straight flight into San Diego. Kendall hadn't wanted to see his parents first, would have preferred to tour Disneyland, then driven south. But since the engagement had been announced, Brenda and Chris had softened, pictures of Heath and Ben easing some of their fears. Also photos of Kendall and Sarah, whose obvious happiness hadn't been missed by any of the Schultzes. Kendall wondered if Natalie had smoothed a few ruffled feathers; they would see her right before they headed to Anaheim for four days at the Magic Kingdom. Kendall had spared no expense; they were staying at the Disneyland Hotel in a luxury suite. He had rented a minivan for the whole stay, they were flying first class. They had tickets for Sea World, the San Diego Zoo, a Padres game, and a FC San Diego match. Two weeks of vacation would be followed by several of rest, what Kendall and Sarah joked about with Jazz and Adele. By the time the wedding occurred, Kendall and Sarah would need a honeymoon just to recover from all of summer's activities.

Kendall stood, asking if the boys needed to use the restroom before they boarded. Ben did, then Heath joined them. Kendall went too, and as they left the bathroom, he was asked for his autograph by a group of European tourists. One spoke Spanish, and Kendall answered in a tongue now rusty. The fans chuckled, Kendall did too. As he escorted the boys back to where Sarah and Tamra waited, Heath asked if Kendall really spoke Spanish, or was he faking it.

"I used to pretty well. Funny how quickly I've lost it."

"Will you speak it in California?" Heath said.

"If I need to. Do you like it?"

Heath smiled as they reached their seats. "It sounds cool. Maybe I'll take Spanish in middle school."

"You should." Kendall sat beside Sarah, grasping her hand. "You never know when you'll need it."

"Need what?" Tamra asked.

"A second language." Kendall picked up Ben, taking him on his lap.

"You speak Spanish?" Tamra looked at Kendall.

Kendall nodded. "Not as well as I used to but...." Now I don't need it. Most of those kids spoke good English, that one was just testing me.

Ben huffed. "I think he was just testing you."

Kendall smiled, stroking Ben's head. "I think you're absolutely right." Kendall saw Sarah's small grin, Tamra and Heath tuning out. "You ready to fly in a big plane?" Kendall asked Ben.

Ben nodded, then gripped Kendall. "You're coming back with us, right?"

"Of course." Ben, to be honest, except to introduce you all to Natalie, I'd rather be home, which isn't San Diego anymore. "You're not gonna decide you like California better than Summerland, are you?"

Sarah stifled a giggle as Ben stared at them both. "No, why would I?"

"Why would I wanna stay there? You're my family, Summerland's my home."

Ben's blue eyes were wide as Kendall spoke. Then Ben nodded. He didn't add anything to the conversation, but reached for his mother. Kendall let him go, ruffling Ben's hair, then squeezing Sarah's hand.

The flight was long for the kids, not lengthy enough for Kendall. As they descended into San Diego, he shook, then took deep breaths. He wasn't sure of the cause for his restlessness, which couldn't be classified as dread, but was certainly tinged with displeasure. Maybe it was his parents' previous unease with his decision, or perhaps returning to his home state would always stir some latent concern. They were the first off the plane, first into baggage claim, then right to the rental car site. Kendall felt odd, gripping the minivan's steering wheel, as blue skies, the Pacific, and palm trees had never been noted from this sort of vehicle. If he'd been driving the Mercedes, nothing would appear out of place. I don't belong here anymore, he sighed, then smiled, as Sarah told the kids to quiet down.

But their animated chatter drowned out planes which zoomed above as they exited the airport. Swathes of cars headed toward massive freeways, which seemed to stretch as far as the horizon. The Schultz family home wasn't far, and Kendall got on the 5, a road he'd known from his earliest memories. Heath pointed out the sports cars while Tamra counted the limousines. Ben just wanted to know when they were going to get there.

Too soon for my liking, Kendall nearly said, then he grimaced. Why do I feel so much antagonism? Did I really expect Mom and Dad to accept this at face value? Or maybe it's me and California; I'll never be at home here again. He didn't speak, but felt relief in Sarah's soft voice. This would be the last time, until they arrived back in Atlanta, that southern accents would rule.

Kendall took an off-ramp, then wound his way through suburban neighborhoods. When he reached his parents' street, he slowed considerably. The kids' voices rose as he parked in front of an ordinary house, or what to Kendall had always seemed nondescript. It was small compared to Casey and Melissa's old place, but to the kids, it looked like a mansion.

"Here goes...." Not quite nothing, who knows what it's going to be? "This's it guys." Kendall killed the engine, removed the key. He gazed at Sarah, who leaned over, kissing him.

"I love you. It'll be okay," she whispered over the din.

"I hope so." Kendall wore a weak smile, seeing his parents step from their front door.

Introductions took place on the front lawn, all three children relatively quiet after the explosion of noise just moments before. Kendall was embraced by his mother first, then by Chris. Then Kendall presented his.... She's my whole world, along with Heath and Ben, Tamra too. "Mom, Dad, this's Sarah. Sarah, this's Brenda and Chris."

_Nice to meet you's_ and _Welcome to San Diego's_ were exchanged as hands were shaken. The kids were next, Heath, then Tamra, then Ben, who barely mumbled _hello_. Kendall was ready to hoist Ben in his arms and shove everyone back in the minivan when Chris knelt in front of Ben. "We've been looking forward to today, been on all our calendars. I know you're going to Disneyland soon, I bet that'll be so much fun."

Ben nodded.

"Well, when you get back, I wanna hear all about it. I remember taking Kenny there, with Lindsay and Brendan, they always had such a great time."

"Kenny?" Ben looked up at Kendall, then to Chris.

Chris laughed, remaining at Ben's level. "We call him Kenny sometimes. But I hear you call him Daddy."

Ben nodded, then gave a shy smile. "Is that okay?"

Chris stared up at his son, then to the little boy. "I think that's wonderful Ben. Really wonderful."

Kendall swallowed a small lump that had been forming in his throat, then he gripped Sarah's hand. He offered his other hand to his father, who stood slowly. Then Chris reached for Ben's hand. Kendall followed his dad and his son as Brenda spoke to Tamra and Heath.

By the time Kendall said goodnight to his parents, a few titles had been altered. Heath now called Kendall _Dad_ and Tamra called him _Uncle Kenny_. That had been brought on by Brendan, who joined them for dinner. It was _Grandpa Chris_ and _Grandma Brenda_ by the time the kids were strapped into seat belts, although the monikers were subject to change. Brenda noted she might prefer _Nana_ , would let them know. Kendall hugged his parents before getting into the van, his mother's embrace tight, his father's nearly as encompassing. They had been pleased to see his hair had grown out, his weight had dropped. And that he was indeed adored by two boys, also two girls, one more than the other.

Sarah hadn't been fawning, but she was never far from Kendall's side, unless helping Brenda, who accepted Sarah's assistance even when saying it was unnecessary. Driving away, Kendall felt the disquiet subsiding, wasn't sure if that was due to leaving La Jolla, or that it had gone better than any of the adults had expected.

Reaching the hotel, Kendall checked in, then collected his family. Ben was asleep and Kendall let the doorman arrange for the luggage to be brought to their suite, and for the van to be parked by the valet attendants. They would stay here for two nights, then were driving to Los Angeles. Tomorrow they were meeting with Natalie in Little Italy, letting the kids acclimate before the onslaught waiting at Disneyland.

Once they had reached their room, Kendall sighed in relief. It was different traveling with a family, but he was accustomed to all that a hotel would accommodate. Sarah had put the kids to bed, Heath and Tamra quietly speaking about tomorrow's room service breakfast. Kendall kissed them goodnight, then closed their door most of the way. The boys shared a double bed, Tamra in her own. Leaving on one small light in the living room, Kendall walked to where Sarah waited.

The master suite was spacious, a king-sized bed, desk, flat screen TV, and sofa. The bathroom was all Kendall could want, huge tub, double shower, stacks of towels, and robes hanging in the closet. After four nights in Anaheim, they would come back here, maybe to this very collection of rooms. Kendall wouldn't make a peep about the huge mattress; he nearly hoped Ben might come looking for them later. But first Kendall wanted to make love to Sarah, then fall into a calm, dreamless sleep.

She lay in the center of the bed, in one of her usual nightgowns. He smiled, closed their door, then undressed. "How is it?"

"Enormous." She giggled. "How do people find each other?"

"Well, let's see." He got in beside her. It did seem much bigger than the queen he had shared with Natalie. "You stay right here, I won't lose you that way."

"This's a very nice place." Then she chuckled. "I think I could get used to something like this."

"I'll have to see what Memphis has to offer." Kendall smiled, pleased for her acceptance. They began cuddling, then Kendall pulled away. "You hear that?"

She nodded. "He's gonna be hard pressed to stay out of here once he sees how big this bed is."

Kendall slipped on his boxers, then went into the living room, finding Ben looking around nervously. "What're you doing out of bed?" Kendall asked, picking up the small boy.

"Tamra's talking in her sleep. Are you really gonna let her call you Uncle Kenny?"

"Sure." Kendall glanced at his bedroom door. Not tonight Ben, at least not for a few hours. "C'mon, you need to sleep in your bed with Heath."

"Daddy, can't I sleep with you and Mommy?"

"Nope," Kendall chuckled, returning Ben to his own room.

Ben stayed in his bed as two parents feted a rather successful start to not just a vacation. In the morning, over breakfast in the living room, Sarah and Kendall noted how easily the children had charmed Chris and Brenda. "Your accents," Kendall teased, pouring more coffee.

"Must be," Sarah smiled. "Or my constantly asking if I could help your mother."

"Lindsay stopped doing that years ago." Kendall sat on the sofa, then took Sarah in his arms. All three kids were now lying on their stomachs, watching TV, empty plates strewn about.

Sarah nestled against Kendall. "I think we all could get used to this."

Kendall nodded. "Just wait till we get to Disneyland."

Sarah chuckled. "Home's gonna seem like a big drag."

Maybe, for a few days. "They'll be ready to be home after we're done here."

Sarah stood, then motioned for Kendall. They stepped into their room, and she gazed at the bed. "It's nice, but too big."

"I can ask for a queen when we come back."

She shook her head. "No, I mean, it's just for this trip. But I want a queen in Memphis."

Kendall laughed, then kissed her. "Whatever you want honey." And maybe then we'll get a queen for us, at home, which for me will never again be Southern California.

"Kendall, after the wedding...." Sarah paused, then sat on the end of the bed. "Maybe then we can look for a new place."

"Yeah?" He joined her, clasping her hands in his. "There's no rush, however you wanna do this."

She sighed, then leaned next to him. "I never imagined any of this, I mean...."

"Sarah, this's just...." Window dressing, an elaborate vacation. But it has very little to do with the life I want to make with you. "Honey, this's no different than Disneyland. It's all just make-believe, which is great for a couple of weeks." Maybe this was all my life used to be, caught up in sport and.... Kendall sighed. Was Natalie no more than pretend? I loved her for five years, can't wait to see her today. But what was all that, what did it mean?

"Kendall, are you okay?"

He smiled at her. She knew him so well, or maybe it was how she grazed over his chest. "This used to be all I knew." He laughed. "Which at the time I thought was a lot. I thought I knew everything." I had the prestigious career, high-profile girlfriend, impressive house. I drove a sports car in Southern California, seemed without a care in the world. Then that world slipped through my fingers like sand on the beach. Kendall looked at his digits entwined with Sarah's. Neither wore a ring, but in two months both would sport symbols of a life-long commitment. "Honey, I can't wait to marry you. I don't care where we live or how big the bed is. All that matters is being your husband, adopting the kids." He said that quietly, yet Heath and Ben knew that as soon as their mother was Sarah Schultz, their names would change too. Kendall had altered his will shortly after proposing to Sarah; she and the boys were now the main beneficiaries. She hadn't argued with him about that, but hadn't wanted to know the extent of his earnings. He was worth over one hundred million dollars, but it could be a few hundred bucks for what it mattered. Other than paying off his credit card after this vacation, money held no importance, except for making Sarah and their children more comfortable.

Sarah stroked his face, then wiped a few tears, but she didn't need to say what he knew so deeply. No amount of money could buy what they had found: love, peace, family. Wealth and adulation were never considered in Tennessee, but were right in their faces out west. Those trappings had been a part of his old lifestyle, even if sport had overshadowed them. For years Kendall had thrived on the roar of a crowd, endorsements, his Mercedes. He smiled. His dad had asked if he wanted to take a spin, but Kendall had declined. He didn't need it anymore.

"I wish I could make love to you right now." He kissed her instead, then nuzzled her forehead. His mother had almost said something to him last night, finding Sarah in his arms more often than not. His dad had mentioned that Ben seemed very fond of Kendall. Brendan had noted that Kendall looked older, and while he didn't say _paternal_ , it was implied. Wait until after we get back from Disneyland. The folks want to tag along on our San Diego adventures, things they did with me, Lindsay, and Brendan years ago. After Sea World, the zoo, baseball and soccer games, they'll see I really am someone's father.

As Sarah giggled at Kendall's intimate suggestion, the door opened, Heath peeking into the room. "Hey, tomorrow are we still having lunch with...." He paused. "Ms. Koslow?"

Kendall smiled. She'll tolerate that for about half a minute. By the time she spends a day with you three in Anaheim, it will be Aunt Natalie. "As far as I know," Kendall said.

"Why don't you go shower?" Sarah gripped Kendall's hand, then stood. "All three of you need a bath after such a long day yesterday."

Heath nodded, then looked at Kendall. "Dad, I, uh, well, it seems complicated."

Kendall smiled, seeing slight bemusement on Sarah's face. He's already checked it out, one reason for her wry smile. That he pointed the question at me, and how he addressed me, is the other. Kendall joined Sarah, patting Heath's shoulder. "Shall we go investigate?"

Heath was already out the door. "Yeah sure. Hey Tamra, I'm gonna take the first shower!"

Sarah stopped Kendall before he could step away. "He never wants to take a shower." Then she grinned. "You're Dad now. How's that feel?"

Kendall kissed her. "It's all I could ask for."

Lunch with Natalie in Little Italy was less stressful than meeting Kendall's parents. Tamra sat beside Natalie, was taken with her California beauty and sophistication. Heath was a little shy, but warmed as Natalie asked what he wanted to do at Disneyland. Tamra was thrilled Natalie would spend a day with them there, but Ben was quiet, sitting between his parents. Occasionally he mumbled something, otherwise he ate his pizza, leaning against Kendall, then into Sarah.

Afterwards, they walked up and down India Street, lined with various small businesses, only a few of an Italian nature. Planes buzzed overhead, the airport not far away. Downtown was in the other direction; how many times had Kendall and Natalie come here, flocks of autograph seekers on their heels. Today just a few asked Kendall for his signature, and with every one, Ben made a face. Heath and Tamra paid them no attention.

Natalie took Sarah and Tamra into the French Garden Shoppe, while Kendall stayed outside with the boys. There weren't any plants, just home furnishings, some stationary, a store for girls, Kendall said. Heath cleared his throat, then spoke. "Dad, did you use to go in there?"

"Oh, sometimes Natalie dragged me in." Kendall smiled as Tamra's excited voice wafted through the front doors.

Heath scuffed his shoe along the pavement. "Do you miss San Diego?"

Kendall looked at him. "Not at all. I miss Summerland."

"Why?" Heath asked as Ben made a soft scowling sound.

Kendall gripped Ben's hand, then laughed. "Maybe this'll sound strange, but when I lived here, I wasn't really living. I didn't have you guys or your mom, or Tamra."

"But you lived with Ms. Koslow," Heath said quietly.

"Yeah, I did. And I thought that was all I needed. But now Natalie's my best friend, after your mom and you guys." Kendall walked to a nearby bench and sat down. Ben sat beside him, but Heath stood next to them. "Heath, maybe this's hard to understand, I mean, sometimes I'm still surprised at how everything's changed. But right before I quit soccer, I knew I wanted something else. I wasn't sure what it was, not until right before that last game. Then I figured it out, but...."

Heath stared at Kendall. "Then your friend died."

He's been talking with Tamra, but that's okay. Pretty soon he'll be able to read just how I spent that year all over the world. "Yeah, then Casey died. I didn't know how to handle that, because he was the first person I'd ever lost." Kendall patted Heath's shoulder with one hand, grasping Ben close with the other. "You guys lost your dad, and maybe Ben doesn't recall it, but at the time, he knew something was wrong. But Heath, you remember, you'll always have that in you." Kendall fought the urge to set a palm on Heath's small chest. How did your heart not just shrivel, or maybe it did, like Sarah said. Did I bring you back with only a soccer ball at my disposal? "When Casey died, I was a lot older than you guys, but still, the first time someone dies is really hard, no matter how grown up you are."

Maybe my family went through that when I came back, looking like crap. But now I'm better, I recovered. I can sit here and nothing hurts. I don't feel like I'm living when someone else should have my life; Casey is gone, but the world does keep going.

Heath nodded, then sat on Kendall's other side. "Dad, are you scared of going to the soccer game?"

Kendall laughed. "No, why?"

"I dunno, just because...."

"I don't wanna go." Ben folded his arms over his chest.

"Why?" Kendall said.

"Because you're gonna watch them and not come home with us."

Heath laughed. "Ben, that's stupid."

"Heath, don't say that word." Kendall felt like a father, but Sarah had been after her eldest to decrease his usage of _stupid_. "Ben, I love you guys, I miss Tennessee." I miss your mother and she's only been in that store ten minutes. It's been great to see Natalie, it really has. And I'll love hanging out with her in a few days. But reality is waiting on the other side of the Mississippi. "I'm just a spectator now."

"What's that?" Ben asked.

"Someone who watches for fun. Like how it'll be when we go to the baseball game." Or how it is now. This is all just for show, no different than Disneyland. Little Italy used to be part of my life, but not anymore.

Kendall smiled, then saw Tamra run their way. She held a bag, Heath meeting her. Ben gazed at them, but didn't move from Kendall's side.

Tamra and Heath walked slowly, then Tamra took Heath's place on the bench. "Aunt Sarah said they'd be right out."

"What'd you get?" Kendall asked.

Tamra smiled, showing off a few trinkets. "And something for Grandma too." She pulled out a box of decorative notecards. "I'll get something for Dad at Disneyland."

Kendall chuckled, seeing Sarah and Natalie exiting the store. They appeared so different, but he would never again find Natalie's looks appealing. Sarah's warm smile and knowing eyes were a call to Kendall's soul. That's what was missing all that time, my soul mate.

He stood from the bench, putting Ben on his feet. Kendall met the women, one he had cared for deeply, and still did. The other was who he spoke to first. "Find something nice?"

"A few things for Mom." Sarah smiled. "She's gonna get enough stuff from the kids."

He laughed. "More souvenirs than she'll know what to do with." Kendall looked at Natalie. "And what'd you get?"

"A gift for Ron's mom. Her birthday's next week."

Kendall smiled. "Are we gonna see Dr. Ron when we return from Anaheim?"

"Probably." Natalie chuckled. "I'll try to drag him away from the hospital."

"Is he sick?" Ben's voice was concerned.

Natalie knelt in front of him. "Nope. He's a doctor. He works in the emergency room."

"Oh," Ben said.

Natalie held Ben's hands. "But he really wants to meet you all. He wants to come to Disneyland too. We'll see what happens between now and then."

Ben nodded, then looked up. "You're just Daddy's friend now, right?"

Natalie blinked away tears. "Kendall's one of my best friends. Do you know he never took me to Disneyland?"

"Really?" Heath said.

"Really," Natalie smiled. Then she gazed at Kendall, who held Sarah in his arms. "That's why I'm so glad you're all here. Otherwise I'd never get to go."

"Don't you have someone you could take?" Tamra asked, as Natalie got to her feet.

"Nope. I don't have any nieces or nephews."

Ben cleared his throat. "Well, maybe you can adopt us, like Daddy's gonna do after the wedding. Then when we come back, you can take us there."

Sarah giggled and Natalie did too. "Well, I think that's a fine idea. Right now, I'd like some ice cream. Ben, whatdya say?"

He laughed, then grasped her hand. "Okay. Can I have chocolate?"

Natalie smiled, finding Sarah's nod. "Sure Ben. I like chocolate too."

They ended their day at Natalie's house, which to the kids wasn't at all congruous with Kendall. The place looked the same to him, a few more copies of the _Journal of the American Medical Association_ on the coffee table perhaps. Also some plants graced the terrace; otherwise it was if he'd never left.

He stood on the balcony, staring at the ocean. Heath and Ben had garnered quite a collection of relatives in just two days, Tamra too. After ice cream, Heath asked if they should call Natalie _Aunt Natalie_ , which had made her chuckle, Heath's accent some gateway to another land. Even Tamra called her Aunt Natalie, soft southern tones wiping formalities aside.

"Hey," Sarah called from the sliding glass door.

Kendall turned, then reached out his arm to her. She went to his side, snuggling close. "Kids are just watching TV. We can go anytime."

"You ready to leave?"

"I'm tired," she smiled. "I think Aunt Natalie is too."

Kendall laughed gently. "I don't think she was bargaining with adding to her family today."

Sarah nodded. "I like her."

"She really likes you. The kids too." She can be an aunt, about all she would want. Funny how things work out.

"Kendall, can I tell you something?"

He looked at Sarah. "Of course."

She gazed to the water. "I could see you at your parents' house, I mean, picture you growing up there, maybe it was all the photos and trophies." She smiled, then cleared her throat. "I don't see you at all living here."

He nodded. "I feel the same. It hasn't changed any either, well, expect for these plants." And the magazines, Kendall smiled. "Maybe I wasn't really living."

Sarah sighed. "I think you were just waiting."

"Maybe I was."

They said nothing for a few minutes. Then Sarah inhaled. "All that stuff, at your folks' place, what're you gonna do with it?"

"I told Mom she should sell it, you know, for charity. Sarah, I don't wanna take anything back." I don't need souvenirs, just you and the boys.

"Maybe that would be a good idea. Unless you think your parents need it."

None of us needs all that junk. It's just stupid, like Heath would say. It means nothing now. "Maybe they do, or maybe not. Dad texted me, wanted to know what time we're heading up there tomorrow."

Sarah giggled. "I think he might like being a grandpa."

"I know he would. Mom too, I mean, as a grandma. Or nana, or whatever she wants to be called."

None of us were prepared for this, but it's not bad. Sudden yes, but very good. Kendall turned to face Sarah. "I'm glad we're here."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "I needed to get it out of my system, the ghosts." This state is full of who I used to be, but it's obvious I'm not of this place anymore.

"What about the pitch?"

He looked at her, Sarah's voice like Ben's, asking if Natalie was just Kendall's friend now. "Honey, that's all behind me. It really is. You did that, you and the boys." He laughed. "If I never kick another soccer ball...."

Sarah nodded, cuddling against him. Kendall gazed at the water as if seeing it for the first time.

### Chapter 19

A magic kingdom delighted the children, but once Natalie and Ron arrived, it took on a new meaning, no longer a tourist attraction but a true fairytale world. As Aunt Natalie and Uncle Ron took the kids for an hour, Kendall and Sarah discussed the sudden change of focus; so funny how family made an already thrilling adventure radiate new life.

The first day had nearly overwhelmed Ben, while Heath and Tamra adjusted to the dreamlike quality that Kendall hadn't experienced since he was a teenager. Coupled with another stay in an elaborate hotel, all three kids floated on some distant cloud. They met various characters, one of which asked for Kendall's autograph. Due to so many foreign tourists, Kendall signed his name frequently, but Ben hardly noticed, swept away from who his father was by where they all stood. Ben crashed as soon as he was put to bed, but Heath and Tamra needed time to let it sink in. On the third morning, the children were excited for their guests, feeling as if Disneyland was their personal stomping grounds. But once Natalie and Ron arrived, Heath, Tamra, even Ben, were transformed, not just in charge of Disneyland, but eager to infect Natalie and her boyfriend with the theme park's ageless joy. Kendall wondered if his parents had felt that way, taking him and his siblings. He might ask them, if the opportunity arose.

They were scheduled to spend one more day in Anaheim, but maybe it would be a half-day, or perhaps they would skip the park, just relax at one of the many pools. Their hotel was a theme park on its own, but Kendall had wanted to splurge. The kids would think their San Diego digs were a let-down, and he smiled. "They're not gonna wanna leave here."

Sarah giggled. "I'm ready to go."

Kendall laughed. "I'm ready for a honeymoon in Memphis."

"In a queen-sized bed."

He chuckled. Again they had a king, and Ben had gotten into the habit of falling asleep with them. Kendall didn't mind toting him back to where Heath and Tamra slumbered; when Kendall returned, Sarah had been lying naked in the middle of that enormous mattress. They had made a quiet but active love, then fallen into a deep sleep, just like the children.

The children slept solidly, but once morning broke, they were ready for another day of the most fanciful nature. Yet, none had been prepared for how Natalie and Ron's presence altered the situation. Ron's conspicuous bearing had initially hushed the kids, but Natalie brought them round, and after lunch, Ben was fine to be carried, or just gripping Ron's hand. Tamra was attached to Natalie, and Heath strolled between those relatives. In the space of a few short hours, Natalie and Ron's roles in the Dwyer family had been cemented. If the couple happened to split, the kids would be devastated.

Kendall didn't see that occurring; Ron Alderson was deeply in love with Natalie, and she clearly reciprocated those affections. They seemed a perfect pair, with their stunning looks and gleaming smiles. A few people stopped Ron, asking if he was this actor or that sports star. He signed no autographs, chuckling they had mistaken him for someone else. His passions were Natalie and work; Kendall recalled once feeling those same sentiments.

"I love you," Kendall said to Sarah, very happy for where he was, which was still without any children tugging on either of them. Yet Kendall was incomplete without Heath and Ben near, or Tamra, who reveled in the wider assortment of family. She didn't seem to miss a mother, not when Natalie took such a keen interest in her musings, which were definitely those of a ten-year-old girl. Disney princesses had captured Tamra's heart, and Kendall had bought her a Sleeping Beauty dress, was having it shipped to his parents' house. They would send it to Summerland at Christmas; Kendall had asked Jazz if such an extravagant gift was okay. Jazz said as long as Kendall wanted to splash out, he wasn't bothered.

Kendall might let it be from his folks; he would ask them about that in a few days when they met up at the zoo. After they left Los Angeles, Sarah had wanted two days to let the kids rest. Their San Diego hotel would seem bland in comparison, but that would allow children to unwind, settling their memories of these days. Sarah had already mentioned to Kendall that she would speak to all three kids about keeping much of their vacation to themselves. No use in making their friends jealous.

In Summerland, Heath and Ben, Tamra too, had been raised no differently than Hunter down the street. This trip wasn't even a consideration for their peers; it was as fantastical as Disneyland itself. Kendall and Sarah were glad summer had just started. By the time the kids were in school, the big news would be that Heath and Ben had a new last name. Other than buying a house for his family, and maybe a new car for Sarah if she would agree to it, Kendall wanted their lives unchanged. This was fine here, in California. In Tennessee, he wanted no part of such extravagances.

When Natalie and Ron returned, three kids looked exhausted. They had spent an extra ninety minutes out, and it was all Ben could do to raise his arms, landing in his mother's lap. Even Tamra and Heath seemed to raise a white flag. Kendall nodded to Natalie as though this had been the plan. "How about we go back to the hotel and take a nap?" Sarah said.

Three small voices offered weak protest. "What about we just lounge by the pool for the rest of the day?" Kendall gazed at Natalie, who smiled appreciatively.

Heath looked at Ron. "Will you come with us?"

"You bet. This's my day off, don't wanna waste it."

They trekked back to the suite, and while Heath and Tamra dressed in swimsuits, Ben whined. Sarah decided to stay in the room with him, the rest heading to the water park, what Tamra correctly called it. "Text if you need anything," Kendall said to Sarah, kissing her as Natalie and Ron held the older children's hands.

"I think I'll take a nap too." Sarah gripped Kendall, then released him. "Are y'all staying for dinner?" she asked Natalie.

"No use leaving till later, traffic's gonna be a mess."

"Yay!" both Heath and Tamra chimed, as Ron led them to the elevator.

Ben slept for most of the drive to San Diego, also napped the next day while Kendall took Heath and Tamra to the pool. This hotel wasn't anything like at Disneyland, but they didn't complain, seemed to covet the quieter atmosphere. By the time they met with Brenda and Chris at the zoo, they had recovered from the overstimulation, even Ben in fine form. He loved the zoo, also Sea World, where they were met by Delia, Marcus, Troy, and Cassandra. Two days later Ben was squirmy at the baseball game, but Heath and Tamra were taken with the action, all sitting not far from first base. Heath even caught a pop-up, with Kendall's assistance, and afterwards they met with some of the players, the batter signing Heath's ball. Kendall had arranged that with Brendan's help. He had left the Padres' farm system at the end of last season, but certain ties remained. That Kendall was Brendan's brother had played a part too, a few Padres players seeking Kendall's autograph.

The Dwyer family, as Kendall considered his clan, ate dinner that night with Chris, Brenda, Brendan, and Lindsay. Familial titles were now the norm, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt and Uncle bandied about like Kendall and Sarah had been married for years, and as if Heath and Ben were Kendall's children, what Chris said to his eldest in private after the kids were settled on the sofa watching a movie with their uncle and aunt. In Chris' study, father and son spoke about matters that to Kendall meant the world; he was a dad, his own father noting that without hesitation. "So how long after the wedding will the adoption take?"

"Just a few weeks. They'll be Schultzes before Thanksgiving."

Chris nodded, then smiled. "Will you be spending that there or...."

"Sarah wanted to invite you and Mom to Summerland. It'd be a long trip for the kids. They only get Thursday and Friday off school."

"Yeah, I suppose that would be quite an ordeal." Chris stood from the sofa, then cracked his knuckles. "And you'll probably spend Christmas there too."

"Yeah, I will." Dad, how to explain that while I love you and Mom and everyone else, this place holds no appeal. I'm actually a southern boy at heart. "But again, if you and Mom feel like coming east, we'd love to see you."

Chris smiled. "We just might do that. I'd like to see Tamra's face when she opens that dress."

Lindsay hadn't been a girly-girl, obsessed with classical music. Kendall smiled; his mother might now live vicariously through Tamra's delights. What will she do if Sarah and I have a daughter, then Kendall chuckled. "I was just glad that Jazz didn't mind."

"Short for Jasper, right?"

Kendall nodded. "Their dad was Leroy Jasper Hood."

"What are Heath and Ben's full names?"

Well, they'll be Heath and Ben Schultz very soon. "Heath Leroy and Benjamin James."

Chris looked pensive, then released a small smile. "You gonna add to that anytime soon?"

Only the _Schultz_. "Not immediately. Ben needs...." Kendall sighed. "He needs a lot still."

"Reassurance, of course. Not that there's any rush."

No, except that I can see it all over you and Mom. Heath and Ben are great, Tamra too. But you can't wait for your own grandchild to spoil. "Dad, maybe in another year, eighteen months." Sarah can have children, so I highly doubt we'll encounter any difficulties, although one can never predict the future. Kendall felt a brief chill. He had emailed Melissa; she had just delivered a daughter, was still living in Bakersfield, and might carry another baby for her sister. But she hadn't met anyone. Casey had been dead for a year and a half, perhaps time was an elusive notion in such matters.

"Kenny...." Chris cleared his throat. "I need to apologize, for your mother and myself. We weren't that, um, pleased when you first told us about all this and...."

"Dad, I'm the one who needs to apologize." I made your lives hell for a good year, then dropped a bomb that on second glance is wonderful, but at the time.... "You and Mom were just looking out for me and...."

Chris sat on the sofa. "We were worried, yes, but we just hadn't seen this coming, not you falling in love with someone so...."

Different, like an alien. If I'd brought home someone from over the border you would have been less shocked. Kendall winced at that thought, but the kids had brought to his attention how many Mexican-Americans dwelled in Southern California. Kendall had improved his rusty Spanish, using it at every opportunity. He spoke to the maids at their hotels, to staff at the zoo, Sea World, and Petco Park. It had been fondly accepted by many, especially the men, who easily recognized him. Their friendly banter had been a surprising joy, also a little jarring. Every soccer fan he spoke to, in English or in Spanish, had asked when he was returning to the game.

In twenty-four hours, Kendall would put that sport to rest. They were attending an afternoon match, his parents joining them. They would sit in a luxury box, along with Delia and her children, also with Trevor's family. Kendall hadn't wanted to be close to the pitch, nor would he visit with any of the squad beforehand. Afterwards, he would take the boys into the locker room, another part of the healing process. Then they would have one more night at the hotel, flying into Atlanta, then onto Memphis. Jazz would pick them up, and after a week or so, all that Kendall would consider was marrying Sarah.

Kendall smiled. "Dad, I just wanna thank you and Mom for keeping open minds. I know I've laid a lot of...." Shit, but I won't say that. "Crap on you guys for the last year and a half, and you didn't deserve it. But to be perfectly honest, I can't imagine my life without Sarah and the boys. Tamra too," Kendall smiled. "She's quite a girl."

Chris nodded. "They've all lost a lot. But you seem to be just what they need. And you need them too."

Dad, you have no idea how true that is. "Yeah, seems to have worked out pretty well all round."

A soft knock interrupted. "Honey, Ken?"

"Coming Brenda." Chris stood, then offered his son a hand. As Kendall turned for the door, Chris gently pulled him back.

"Yeah?" Kendall asked.

Chris grasped Kendall's shoulder. Chris tried to speak, then cleared his throat. "We're very proud of you Kenny, we really are. Sarah's a lovely woman, and a very good mother. And you're...."

Kendall's lip trembled, he felt ten years old. I'm what? Just tell me Dad.

Chris chuckled, releasing Kendall's shoulder. "You're a father, sort of unbelievable, but you really are. Son, you have two children, and your mother and I are just so happy for all of you."

Kendall nodded, wished to take his father in his arms. But that wasn't Chris Schultz's preference. Instead Kendall patted his dad's shoulder. Then both walked to the closed study door.

At three a.m. Kendall woke in a cold sweat. Sarah wasn't far, but the bed seemed even bigger than usual. Kendall used the toilet, then checked on the kids. All were sleeping peacefully.

He didn't turn on any extra lights in the living room. This wasn't the exact suite they had initially stayed in, but the layout wasn't different. It wasn't much smaller than Sarah's house; maybe if a kitchen was added, it would be the same square footage.

Kendall wanted to be home. He had his parents' approval, not that he had craved it, but it was reassuring, and Sarah appreciated it too. After the kids were asleep, Kendall told her what his dad had said, and Sarah had wept. Then Kendall made love to her as if confirming who he was; a father to two sons. He was Tamra's uncle, and in a very short time, he would be a husband. Funny how that would be the last piece set in stone.

The last time he'd been in San Diego, he was a mess. Over the last two weeks, he hadn't had anything to drink, not that he'd been tempted. Maybe something about this state obscured the need for a beer. Here it was all about sport and appearances; Kendall thumbed through a magazine, not one that Ron got or Brenda subscribed to, or that Adele preferred. It was about San Diego, literature that a tourist might appreciate. Kendall reached a worn spot in the magazine, then shuddered at the headline: _FC San Diego Slowly Improving Over Last Year's Debacle._

He skimmed the article; his name was mentioned along with Casey's, hard to exclude them, even if they weren't part of the current squad. For years they had been why fans flocked to the stadium, then a void appeared, as though both had been swallowed into the earth. Kendall hadn't spoken about the game with Delia at Sea World. He hadn't mentioned it to Wilson or Trevor in emails, but he couldn't escape it, not even in an anonymous hotel room. No matter where he went in Southern California, he was Kendall Schultz, soccer player.

Former soccer player, he wanted to shout. Instead he set the magazine back where he found it, then sighed. That was over, was the past. This was his life, which made him chuckle. This wasn't any more real than the Magic Kingdom or who he had been. All of it was either fantasy or finished. In a few days, he would be back in Tennessee, fixing dinner for his family, taking Ben on walks, running every other day, shopping at Walmart. His mother had thought that was hilarious, and had asked if he wanted to do some of her shopping. Kendall had just smiled.

All I need is to get home, drive around Summerland. Kick the ball with Heath in the field or even better, lay in that small bed, man, it's going to seem tiny. But Sarah will be right at my side, Ben's knees probably in my back. And that's okay, he's my son. Even Dad saw it; I have two kids, soon a wife. Then eventually more children; Sarah would really like a daughter. All this time with Tamra clarified that, and if Mom has her way, we'll have two or three. Kendall smiled. I don't care, four or five, what's the difference? Sarah can work if she wants, or stay home. I have more money than we can ever spend, we could vacation like this annually, except it would kill us. He glanced at the kids' door, soft snores times three. They are so tired; Ben will probably fall asleep at the match. Then Kendall shivered. All Ben will do tomorrow is grip my hand, keeping me right at his side. Even with Marcus and Troy there, Ben's not going to let me get five feet away from him.

Kendall stood, quietly walking to the kids' room. What was Ben like before Jimmy died? Probably a very self-assured toddler. Or maybe he was like any other two-year-old, and he changed enormously. I don't want him at all apprehensive about my place in his life, that's why we're not having kids yet Dad. I don't want Ben to presume that I need more than him and Heath. And to be truthful, I don't. If, God forbid, I can't have children, I have two sons. That's more than Casey produced.

Was it Casey's fault or Melissa's, Kendall wondered. Or perhaps neither, maybe they just hadn't yet gotten lucky. Then a curse fell Melissa's way, the worst event in the world. But it wasn't so bad for her sister. Maybe if Melissa and Casey had gotten pregnant, Melissa wouldn't have had the time to carry someone else's baby. Kendall stepped away from the kids' door, then walked toward his own. Jimmy and Sarah had two sons, but I'm going to raise them into adulthood, God help me. Kendall smiled. Maybe it's better to start with small kids, learning parenthood from that perspective. When Sarah has our baby, I won't feel so unprepared.

He grew hard thinking of getting her pregnant. Maybe we'll just see how Ben adjusts after the wedding. Maybe once I'm his legal father, he won't bat an eye if I'm out of the room. Maybe tomorrow, after the match, he'll know soccer means nothing, that he, Heath, and their beautiful mother are all who matter to me. Kendall slipped into the master suite, finding Sarah turning onto her back. He got in beside her, pressing against her warm, soft frame.

"I love you Sarah."

She stirred, then smiled. "You're cold." Then she backed away. "I need to pee."

She staggered to the bathroom. When she returned, she no longer wore a nightgown. Kendall stripped off his boxers, and they made love without words. None were necessary.

They arrived at the stadium after lunch; Kendall wanted time to explore before crowds arrived. He rarely stood on this side of the pitch, a wide green expanse that looked odd without players. When his former teammates appeared for warm-ups, it still didn't seem right.

They met up with Delia and her children. Cassandra seemed at home in Sarah's grasp, and when she went to Kendall, he wasn't as shaky as when she was a newborn. But Ben waited at Kendall's side. Kendall passed the infant back to her mother, then grasped Ben's hand.

Heath and Tamra were happy to chat with Marcus as Troy tried to get Ben's attention. Finally Ben was led away, but after ten minutes, he returned to Kendall, by which time Chris and Brenda had arrived. Chris attempted to run interference, but Ben would have none of it. Kendall quietly chuckled, feeling a soothing calm in Ben's possessiveness.

Kendall's troubled heart noted where he was, so near a sport that had once seemed the answer to all his questions. His pulse raced as seats were taken, as players emerged, as referees appeared. Kendall saw Herm Schlatter, then had to take a deep breath. Sarah held his other hand, Ben's ferocious grip unloosened. Kendall spotted Wilson and Trevor and other men with whom he had stood. But Casey was still missing.

During the national anthem, Kendall held just Ben's hand, his other placed over that anxious muscle which had been missing before Casey died. Kendall accepted his heart hadn't been in this sport for perhaps as long as two years. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment soccer lost its appeal, or when his feelings for Natalie had changed. Then Kendall looked at Troy Givens. He was a little younger than Ben, just turned four years old. His father wasn't at his side, but Troy had grown up with Wilson's erratic presence. Sometimes his dad was always around. Often he was a blip on the field.

As the song ended, everyone sat down. Ben was on Kendall's left, Chris at Ben's other side. Kendall saw how much his father wanted to ask Ben if he needed something, anything. Ben just needs to witness his mother and father saying _I do_ , as if we're marrying him too, Kendall knew. That will be more meaningful than an adoption. All I have to do is make Sarah my wife. Then all of Ben's fears will vanish.

Kendall leaned close to Ben. "Grandpa wants to know if you'd like to sit on his lap. You'll be up higher, can see the pitch better."

Ben stared at Kendall. "How do you know that?"

"It's a father-son thing." Just like I know you're dying to sit on _my_ lap, although you could care less about the game.

Ben crossed his arms, then put his hands in his lap. Then he looked at Chris. "Grandpa, can I sit with you?"

Kendall nearly laughed at Chris' wide smile. "Sure Ben, that way you can see the game better."

"Uh-huh," Ben said with a hint of sarcasm. Kendall watched his son, who did not quite roll his eyes. Within a few minutes, Ben settled against Chris' chest, then was enfolded in the older man's arms.

Kendall watched the match while occasionally gripping Sarah's hand, or cracking his knuckles, or trying too. Wilson had scored in the tenth minute, but it was one-nil at halftime. Kendall still thought of the score in European terms, or English-European. A few of his Real Madrid teammates had been from England, nil the perfect way to express zero. That way a score was merely two syllables, as most teams didn't score over six goals in a game. One-zero sounded superfluous; Kendall pondered trivial facts, then realized why. It was easier to sit there if he was slightly distracted.

It wasn't unpleasant to view the game far from the pitch in that luxury box. It would have been far more difficult if they were closer, where Kendall could feel the crowd's optimistic vibe, the players' cautious hopes. Sequestered in a lavish room, he was safe.

Safe from what, he pondered, while noting snippets of conversation; Brenda and Sarah discussed wedding details, Delia and Amanda Harner contributing to that chat. Those women would attend the ceremony, their husbands' presences uncertain. FC San Diego wasn't playing on that Saturday in August, but it might be too much for Wilson and Trevor to fly to Tennessee for Kendall's wedding.

Chris spoke with Ben while Tamra and Heath ran around with the Givens and Harner children. Kendall watched Amanda hand her daughter to Sarah; Caitlin wasn't an infant anymore, could have toddled after the others, but eventually she would have been run over. Yet she was so much bigger than Cassandra, who had just been in Sarah's grasp. Kendall smiled; a daughter would fit so well in her arms.

Then he chuckled; now Brenda toted Cassandra. Kendall's mother caught his eyes, and he nodded, then walked that way. Brenda's warm smile gave no doubt as to how she felt about a granddaughter. "You wanna hold her?" she asked her son.

"Sure." It was better than thinking about soccer, and Cassandra was light compared to Ben, who was still in Chris' sight. Kendall glanced at Sarah, who also had a pleased grin. Cassandra giggled, and Kendall wanted to nuzzle her little forehead. Instead he kissed her tiny nose, then handed her to Delia.

"You look pretty comfortable with a baby," Delia said, snuggling her daughter.

"She's a beauty, just like her mother."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Delia laughed. "But this girl needs a new diaper. Is that why you gave her back?"

"No, I just...." Kendall felt self-conscious, then smiled. "Guess I knew it was time for Momma to have her."

Delia chuckled, taking her daughter toward the restroom.

The second half began as a copy of the first; forward Steve Watt scored in the fifty-fifth minute. Heath and Marcus jumped up and down as Wilson had assisted. Then Heath beamed at Kendall, as if he had helped by osmosis. Kendall smiled, feeling a similar joy.

But in just moments, two swift goals tied the score. Heath and Marcus sighed heavily, even Tamra was subdued. The adults said little; FCSD's season had been better than last year, but they were still far from their glory days. By the seventieth minute, it was three-two in San Jose's favor, a pall cast there in the box and all over the stadium.

Kendall's chest felt tight; he tapped his foot, then stood. Ben had been seated with Chris, but came running after his father, how Kendall felt as soon as Ben reached him.

Ben said nothing, staring into Kendall's face. It was Sarah as well, maybe a daughter someday. Kendall wanted a little girl as lovely as her mother, but this small boy appealed. "You want up Ben?"

Ben shook his head and Kendall knelt in front of him. "What is it?"

"You're worried they're gonna lose, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, I mean...." Not that I could make a difference. They need new players; Steve Watt is good, but Wilson's lost a step, so has Trevor. "Ben, it's just the nature of the game."

They had watched the Padres beat the Dodgers eight to two, a euphoric crowd reveling in that victory. But not every team won. Ben sighed. "Daddy, please don't go, please don't...."

Kendall's heart lurched, his stomach reeled. For the first time since stepping off the plane, he wanted to pound a beer, maybe two or three of them. It wasn't Ben's anguish, not completely, nor was it Wilson and Trevor's families. It was.... "Ben, I love you. I'm not leaving."

Those words emerged in a guttural choke as Ben gripped Kendall's neck. I didn't want to come here, but it's been fine, a lot of fun actually, until right now. Sarah and I won't have any kids for a while because Ben's still convinced I'm not permanent. Why does he feel that way, why....

A huge cheer filled the box, reverberating throughout the stadium. "Daddy scored, Daddy scored!" Marcus screamed, making his baby sister holler.

Kendall stood, saw a scrum on the field, FC San Diego players leaping all over Wilson. Kendall's heart thumped in his chest, straining those recently attached arteries. Then a small hand grabbed Kendall's wrist. "Daddy?"

"Huh, what?" Kendall looked down, Ben in tears. "Hey, it's okay, it's tied now. Marcus and Troy's dad tied the score."

Kendall blinked, then felt nearly ill. What is this, what's happening? It's like when Brendan handed me the phone, Natalie crying on the other end. I didn't want to believe her then, can't bear to acknowledge this now. What is this, some black hole to my past, some ghostly knock on a door long closed? If I was down there, if I was a part of it, we'd be up four-three no problem. Then Wilson and I could add one more goal, make it five-three, really give this crowd something to enjoy.

"Daddy, Daddy?"

Kendall bit his lip as someone else gasped his hand. He looked to find Sarah at his side.

"Kendall, you okay?"

No, I'm not. "Uh, I just feel a little...." Sick, positively nauseous, Christ, no fucking way!

Sarah led Kendall to a seat in the back of the room. Ben was still at their sides, but Kendall didn't pull his son close. Leaning over his legs, Kendall breathed deeply, trying to ease his churning stomach. Then he gazed up, finding Ben nearly in tears. But Sarah's face was calm.

She didn't speak, just stroked his cheek. Then she told Ben to give Daddy some space. Kendall watched everything occur as if a force field separated him from them. But I don't want to be away from them. This doesn't mean anything, it's my past, it's....

Another roar swirled. "Daddy did it again!" Troy shouted first, as Delia told him to hush. Then Heath, Marcus, and Tamra started to cheer.

They don't need me, they're doing just fine. Kendall inhaled, then let out the breath, still feeling sick. I don't need this, I walked away from it. I only need....

"Ben, go sit with Grandpa and Grandma." Sarah's voice would tolerate no dissent.

Ben didn't offer any, but he sulked down the steps, reaching Chris and Brenda.

Sarah sat beside Kendall, gently grasping his hands. "You wanna leave?"

Yes. Let's get on a jet tonight. I'll rent a car in Memphis, that way we won't have to bother Jazz. We'll just go straight home, pretend this never happened. Not Disneyland or the rest, but this place, this moment. Sarah, I only need you, the kids, Tennessee. Just get me out of here and.... "I love you."

She nodded, then set her palm to his forehead. "You're clammy."

I feel sicker than when I was at the Atlanta Hilton or the Bakersfield Marriott. "I, I...."

"Kendall, it'll be okay. I love you. Don't worry."

How the hell am I not supposed to worry? Kendall winced; this is how Ben has been feeling since he could sense Jimmy wasn't coming back. Nothing is solid, things change on a dime. For the worse, the better, the most unexpected.... "Sarah, I love you, I swear to God honey, just you and the boys. You're all I need."

She nodded, caressing his face. They stayed in the back of the room as the game ended with a win for San Diego, five to three.

### Chapter 20

Lindsay's melodic cello set the tone as Kendall watched Sarah walk toward him, led by her brother. Her dress was long, the sleeves short, the hue cream. Lace lay over the satin gown, but the day was surprisingly temperate for August in Tennessee. Kendall wasn't too warm in his gray suit, but Ben did tug at his tie. Heath elbowed his little brother as their mother joined where they stood, in the middle of the Summerland town park where Kendall had first encountered the Dwyer boys. In a matter of moments, Kendall would take Sarah as his wife, and within days, Heath and Ben's last name would be Schultz.

Kendall's sister and her two friends hadn't played the wedding march, but a piece Lindsay wrote especially for that day. She smiled at her brother, seated in the back of a small gathering of the bride and groom's closest relations. Natalie and Ron sat behind Brenda and Chris and Jazz stepped to where Adele waited. Tamra wore a lavender tea-length dress, standing beside her aunt. A few others graced the park, not more than two dozen in attendance, including all five of the Givenses, and four Harners. Even Herm Schlatter had made the trip; he, Wilson, and Trevor would fly to Washington D.C. later that evening, where the rest of FC San Diego waited. But first came a wedding.

As the pastor spoke, Kendall only noted Sarah's shining blue eyes, her wide smile, her hands in his. As soon as Jazz moved away, Kendall had grasped Sarah, and eagerly she reciprocated. He knew no worry or pain, only a swelling joy that made him wish to laugh out loud, perhaps courting the gods' wrath, for he was so happy, nothing could touch him. Finally he paid attention to the pastor's words, nodding and smiling. Since returning from California, the summer had felt heavy and aching. This moment erased all that turmoil.

Sarah looked as pleased and relieved as Kendall felt; she was the only one aware of his anxiety, although they hadn't openly spoken of it. Every time he tried, he became short of breath, his stomach rolling. He hadn't gotten drunk, but how many times had he wished for Jazz to come round with a couple of six-packs. Instead Kendall ran; he ran every day, had lost ten pounds. He wore a belt just to keep his pants up, his jacket loose even as it was buttoned.

Sarah had lost a few pounds too, nerves everyone said. He gazed at her figure, the dress gently clinging to her breasts, waist, and hips. They would spend that night at The Westin Memphis near Beale Street, a queen sized bed waiting in the hotel's most lavish suite. Kendall had spoken to several staff to arrange that one detail, and had been assured just last night that a queen mattress would be waiting. For a week they would explore Memphis, also each other. Kendall thought about that, then felt a nudge at his back. He looked up, the pastor with a smile. Brendan cleared his throat, and Sarah giggled.

Kendall was lost to the proceedings, which he realized probably wasn't the way to start off married life, but this ceremony was only a formality. He had been Sarah's husband since stepping from Adele's porch as Heath explained who he was, a man proffering soccer balls. Initially Kendall hadn't wanted to accept that truth, had wished to run as far as possible. Instead Heath's infectious enthusiasm had nailed Kendall to this state, this town, this family. Kendall gazed at Heath, who was his child, even if they looked nothing alike. No longer did Heath appear like Casey Alspach. Heath was Kendall's boy, and right now he covered his mouth, hiding a grin.

Brendan again poked his brother, and Kendall tried to focus. I should be paying attention to what the pastor is saying, but this is my wedding, and I want to concentrate on what truly matters, which maybe isn't the vows. They're just words, important words okay, but the most meaningful aspects of this day are all those I can see. My sons, my family, former teammates. Kendall felt no anguish with that phrase, even if he had to skip over Herm's face.

Then Kendall stared at Sarah; this is my wife, even if I haven't yet put a ring on her finger. I'm going to need to be reminded of everything I'm supposed to do, because all I can do is smile. She's standing right in front of me, I've never seen her look more beautiful, except for every time I make love to her. But this is a different sort of charm, one that is shared with our family. Many people, from many places, but today, at this moment, this park is our collective home. I met my sons here, isn't that an odd notion? I can still recall Heath's cautious smile, Ben's cynicism. Kendall glanced at them; Heath was laughing, Ben rolling his eyes. Then Ben smiled, and Kendall blinked away tears. Just as I thought; all we needed to do was get married.

Kendall cleared his throat. "Just a minute."

"What?" Brendan said.

"Kendall?" Sarah asked.

Kendall stepped to where Ben squirmed. Hoisting his son aloft, Kendall laughed. "Okay, now we can continue."

Ben didn't argue. He giggled, then gripped Kendall's neck, but not as tightly, or with as much fear, as in the luxury box at the soccer stadium. Then he rested his head on his father's shoulder, and Kendall gave all of his attention to the pastor, who didn't miss a beat. It was a little awkward putting the ring on Sarah's finger, but parents managed. Then as the pastor announced they were husband and wife, Kendall set Ben to the ground. A married couple kissed, their youngest child clutching his father's leg, just for seconds. Then Ben let go, a deep wound healed.

The reception took place at Adele's church. Kendall couldn't get over how naturally the ring had merged onto his hand; he felt like it had always been there. Brendan made a toast, voices southern and Californian blending as if nothing was different. Wilson and Trevor's accents had never sounded stronger, nor had Herm Schlatter's. Those men stayed for the toast, then said their goodbyes. Herm was last, pulling Kendall aside. "You've found your place. Fatherhood agrees with you."

Kendall laughed. I married Sarah today, but yeah, the boys are part of it too. "I think it's a mutual feeling."

Ben ran around with Marcus and Troy, Heath and Tamra on their heels. After his parents shared that kiss, Ben hadn't needed to stand in Kendall's shadow. Kendall smiled at Herm, then shook his hand. "Thanks for being here today."

Herm wore a small grin. "Take care of yourself Kendall. You've found happiness. Many never do."

Kendall's heartbeat suffered one small skip. Then he smiled. "I never forget it."

Herm nodded, then walked to where Wilson and Trevor said goodbye to their families. Kendall watched those men leave together, Herm in the middle, looking a little thin to Kendall. Then Sarah came to her husband's side.

She said nothing, grasping his hand. Kendall squeezed back, then swallowed a lump in his throat. Then he looked at.... She's my wife, my God, finally! He kissed her, then pulled her close.

"It was so nice that they made it." Sarah said that more into Kendall's chest. Then she pulled away. She traced his eyes, then smiled.

He nodded. She wants to ask if I'm all right, but she won't say it here. "Honey, I love you. Thank you for everything."

Sarah stayed silent, blinking away tears. She returned to his arms, laying her head right along his heart. Kendall wondered if she could sense the erratic manner in which it beat, plaguing him all summer. Herm said it; I've found happiness. Just hours ago that was all I knew, marrying this woman, putting Ben's fears at rest. Then why does it ache, why am I still....

Sarah looked up, setting a finger to his lips. "We'll talk about it tonight."

"How do you...."

"Kendall, tonight. Right now," she smiled, "I wanna dance with you. Can Lindsay play something for us to dance to?"

He smiled. Sarah hadn't wanted a band or DJ, but one never knew how the mood might strike. They walked to where his sister and her friends sat, speaking with Brenda and Chris. Kendall whispered something to Lindsay, who stood, giggling. "We were hoping you'd want something for the reception."

"Just a slow song," Sarah said, pulling Kendall close.

Lindsay smiled. "I know just the tune."

It took a few moments, then a tender melody wafted through the small social room. Kendall and Sarah weren't the only ones on their feet; Brenda and Chris danced, as did Jazz and Tamra. Adele was asked by Brendan as Natalie and Ron stood close. Kendall held his wife right against him, her warmth easing that small niggle. Then those doubts no longer existed.

Kendall's parents were staying for a few days, which pleased Heath and Ben, Tamra too. She had been told it was all right to call them Grandma and Grandpa, names that stuck fast after a ceremony binding more than a man and woman. Kendall and Sarah drove home in his truck, their sons in the back seat. Newlyweds were parents first, and would take the boys to Adele's before heading to Memphis. Kendall needed this time with Heath and Ben, not wishing to end the day until he was sure how they were.

Heath was excited to spend the next week between his grandmother's and Uncle Jazz's houses, also seeing Grandpa Chris and Nana too. Brenda went between Grandma and Nana, but Heath preferred Nana, easier to distinguish his grandmothers. As Kendall and Sarah changed clothes, Heath kept asking when they were going to take them to Grandma's house, that Grandpa and Nana were probable there waiting for them, along with Aunt Natalie and Uncle Ron, Uncle Brendan and Aunt Lindsay.

"You think we're old news," Sarah said, hanging her dress in the closet. "We'll be out in a bit Heath, just keep your pants on!"

Kendall smiled. "He's got everyone in one place, will probably make them all trek over to the park to play...." Kendall inhaled, then looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was about the length when FC San Diego won their last title, his gut all but vanished. But I'm not that man anymore. I have a wife, children, and maybe....

"Honey, Kendall?"

He turned, seeing that wife dressed only in a bra and skimpy underwear. "Yeah Sarah?"

She grimaced, then smiled. "You're dressed. Go out and keep them quiet."

Kendall chuckled, kissed her, then caressed her hip. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Schultz."

"Oh, just you wait."

He nodded, then slipped from their room.

Heath sat on the sofa, Ben beside him. They wore t-shirts and shorts, and Kendall plopped between them, as both boys made room. "So, you two gonna be good for everyone?"

"Yeah Dad." Heath smiled. "Marcus said they're not leaving for California until Monday."

Delia and Amanda were also staying in Memphis that night, but the Givenses were spending an extra day, while Trevor's family was flying back to San Diego tomorrow. Kendall let those details wash right over him. Families were split all the time, but love kept them together.

"Dad, when you and Mom get home, are we gonna move into a new house?"

Kendall looked at Ben, his voice unafraid. "Yeah, just need to get your mother to decide where she wants to live."

Ben nodded. "And I get my own room, right?"

Heath sighed as Kendall chuckled. "Yes, you each get your own room."

"Well good." Ben's tone was firm.

Kendall fought another chuckle. "Listen, why don't you guys make sure there's nothing else you wanna take to Grandma's." Kendall was comfortable with referring to Adele that way, also in using those monikers for his parents.

Heath scrambled off the sofa, running toward the hall. Ben moved a little more slowly, then turned to face Kendall. "Daddy, I love you."

"Oh Ben, I love you too."

Ben smiled, scuffing the worn carpet with his bare feet. "I hope you and Mommy have a lotta fun in Memphis."

"I think we will."

"Yeah, and maybe you'll wanna go back there and we can stay with Grandma again."

"Maybe Ben."

The little boy smiled, then ran in the direction of his room. Just as Ben reached the hallway, he turned back. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"If you go to Memphis, or somewhere else, could Heath and me go stay with Grandpa and Nana?"

A warm, peaceful wave engulfed Kendall. Ben's healed soul flooded the room, was almost enough to stave off the little piece of unrest that Kendall just couldn't shake. Still, he smiled, then stood, going to where Ben waited. Kendall knelt down, wanted to stroke Ben's face, his mother's face. For how long were you in here, scared to come out? You grew up in the bosom of two parents, then that was obliterated. Yet somehow you and Heath survived. Tamra did too, but she was older, or maybe Savannah never registered within her the way Jimmy had with you. With you and Heath, but now all that has been forgotten. You'll never know that sense of loss again, not if I can help it. I would do anything Ben, anything in this world, to keep you happy.

As Ben reached for his dad, Kendall wrapped his son in a bear hug. The initial seconds were the same euphoria Kendall felt as Sarah stood near him in the park earlier that day. Then Kendall's heart began to race, and he gripped Ben tighter, but it did no good. Finally he let Ben go, the boy unaware of his father's dilemma.

Kendall took the main roads getting to Memphis, Sarah sitting right beside him, their luggage in the truck's back seat. The radio played country music which was growing on Kendall. Also increasing was that ache, which he loathed to acknowledge. Yet he couldn't deny what had occurred; Ben's deep heartache had been imbedded within Kendall's chest.

That Ben, and Heath, were both ignorant to Kendall's condition had eased a father, also that no one else was aware, no one except the only person from whom Kendall couldn't hide. Sarah hummed to the music, her left hand on Kendall's right leg. Reaching Memphis, traffic increased, and Sarah moved her hand. Dusk had fallen, the skyline a bright array of neon signs and lit buildings.

They pulled up in front of the Westin. Kendall let the staff attend to the luggage and truck. He checked them in, Mr. and Mrs. Schultz, then escorted his wife to their suite. Ample room could have accommodated the boys, but all Kendall wanted was to share this night, and the next several, with only his wife. "You're my wife," he whispered, as he carried her over the threshold.

Sarah nodded as he set her down. They investigated the room, then their luggage arrived. Kendall generously tipped the bellman, then locked the door. "Where are you?" he called.

She giggled. "In the bedroom."

He smiled, finding her wearing a robe, lying on the sheet in the middle of the bed. "And how is it?"

"Oh, I suppose it'll do. Not quite the Disneyland Hotel but...."

Kendall chuckled. "We can go there tomorrow if this isn't enough space."

"This's more than enough space."

"I completely agree."

At home they were still sleeping in that double bed, but she had agreed that once they moved house, a new mattress would be lovely. Kendall considered that for only moments as she untied the robe, nothing underneath.

He undressed and they cuddled, then made love. As he kissed her, a new sense of adoration was revealed, that of a spousal nature. Kendall was unsure if he was alone in feeling it. Sarah had once been someone's wife, maybe it wasn't new to her.

Yet again he was wrong, as he had been the first time they were intimate. "Kendall, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

They lay side by side, limbs entwined. "Honey, this's new. Everything, from saying _I do_ to dancing with you to, oh my God. Kendall, everything's new."

He blinked away tears, in part for her honesty, and that for him, one thing was as before. His heart, while soothed by her as his wife, ached as of old. He winced, then gripped her tightly. "Sarah, you're right, it's all brand new."

I'm a lying SOB, but honey this will fade, I know it will. Just like how Casey's death needed time, so does this, which I can't even name, not aloud or in my mind. I'm your husband till we are parted by death. That is the only manner in which I will ever leave you.

"Kendall, there's something I need to tell you."

He flinched, then released her. "Honey, what?"

She sat up, stroking his face. Then she gently traced around his chest. "I know Kendall, I know."

What's there to know? You're it, I love you. Ben's fine, just like I knew he would be. How much of his first five years will he remember, hopefully none of it. I don't care if he even forgets about June, all that we did, saw, learned. I learned that I could go back to that state, not that I ever want to again, but I did it. Heath learned how important it is to speak two languages. Tamra learned that while she doesn't have a mother, she has two aunts and a nana who would spoil her rotten if given half the chance. And Ben learned.... Well, he learned how much something means to me, something I can't even say. But today was more important; today Ben realized I am his father, he is my son. And that I will never leave him, no matter how badly this hurts.

Sarah hadn't removed her palm from Kendall's chest. Then she placed it right over his heart. "Kendall, we need to talk about this."

"About what?"

"About...." She hesitated for just seconds. "Sports."

He quickly laughed. "What?"

She sighed. "I need to tell you about Jimmy."

"What about him?" He's gone, he's not a ghost. Neither is Casey, believe it or not. Heath isn't that man, he's Heath Leroy Schultz, my son, nearly as close to me as flesh and blood could make him. Maybe every time I love you Sarah, we're making those boys more mine. They are mine, I will never, ever leave them.

Sarah leaned against the headboard, pulling the sheet over her breasts. "When Jimmy was in high school, he played football, was a wide receiver. He was one of the best in this part of the state, and by his senior year, he was being recruited by local colleges. If he'd gone to a high school here in Memphis, maybe an out-of-state university might've seen him, but plenty of schools were aware."

Kendall joined her, tried to take her in his arms, but Sarah shook her head. "When he got an offer from the Vols, he said _yes_ immediately. I was just a sophomore then, but it's such a small high school, everyone knows everything. He signed a letter of intent, and that was it. Jimmy Dwyer was gonna play college football at the University of Tennessee, like some piece of heaven dropping onto all of Summerland. Just like the kids going to California for two weeks," she smiled.

Kendall wanted to kiss her, wanted to stop her from speaking. Once she tells me....

"Kendall, I know you don't wanna hear this because...." She sighed, again stroking his chest. "He spent most of that summer at football camp in Knoxville, had a full-ride scholarship. Momma's good friends with his mother, and between them, well, none of his family was expecting him to do more than play college ball. They just wanted him to graduate, he was so smart, God, Ben is just like him, too smart for this little town. He didn't have any idea of what he wanted to study, but his mother was thinking about engineering." Sarah blinked away tears. "He broke his leg really badly during practice, just a freak accident, some big lineman fell right on him. They let him stay for a year while he healed, but once he started rehab, well, they knew, everyone knew. By spring, we all knew that was it for Jimmy as a college football player."

Stop right there, don't say another word. Sarah, please, for God's sake, don't say another....

"They would've let him stay, I guess some alumnus was willing to pick up the rest of his scholarship, but he came home after finishing that spring semester. I was gonna be a senior that fall, but we didn't start dating until I was nearly done. By then he'd started going to trade school, that alumnus paying for it. We never knew who that man was, and I thought about it after he died, how one anonymous man put Jimmy through mechanics training, then another killed him." Sarah had a small snort. "Not that that one was all that anonymous."

Then she kissed Kendall. "Heath got all of Jimmy's love for sports and Ben got his wit. When Jimmy and I started dating, he couldn't watch football, not college or pros. The Titans had been around a while, and eventually he could watch them. But he never saw another college game, not even when he was really drunk." She sighed. "Sometimes he drank, usually around the beginning of September he'd have one good binge, like he was drinking off all that never happened. The older he got, it wasn't just the game, it was the lost opportunity. He didn't mind working on cars, it paid well, wasn't hard work, not like some jobs. He hated the commute," she sniffled. "That's what killed him, the goddamn commute."

Kendall pulled her close as she wept. When she finished, she wiped her face with the sheet. "Kendall, I love you more than I ever loved him, God rest his soul. I never thought I'd fall in love again, much less feel more than I did before. He was a good husband, loved the kids, but a part of him was trapped back there on those fields, high school and at Knoxville. Heath was born with a love for sports, especially those needing a ball. Jimmy steered him toward soccer, that was safe, and Heath took to it like a duck in water. Jimmy could kick a soccer ball, that had nothing to do with catching a football, isn't that funny? Your sport doesn't allow hands, his required it."

It's not my sport Sarah. Kendall nodded, felt sick inside. "Honey, my God, I am so, so sorry."

"Kendall, I truly believe that when you walked away, you had to do that. Because I know how badly Jimmy wanted to leave football behind, but he never could. Yet you did, you did it even before Casey died. When Heath told me about you giving him that soccer ball, that's why I thought somehow Jimmy was channeling you." She smiled. "Like he was trying to reach his sons. Then when I learned who you were, oh my God, it was like no, I can't do this, I cannot feel this way. But I did anyway, just like you are now with soccer. Kendall, I know what it means to you."

"Honey, no, I, I...."

She set her lips to his, bestowing one tender kiss. "Kendall, it was gone, but not forever. It's a part of you, like we are. And that's okay, I'm not worried or scared or...."

"I don't want it, I just want you."

"Kendall...."

He stood from bed, stalking naked around the room. "Sarah, Ben's fine. He _is_ all better. God, that sounds weird, but I thought about this back when Dad was telling me that yeah, I was a father now. That was all Ben needed to see, just us getting married. The adoption will change their names, but Ben needed to witness us saying _I do_ , exchanging rings. And now he's...." He is whoever he would have been if Jimmy hadn't died, but different. But not bad-different, just a little bit different. "Sarah, I love all three of you, and maybe we can make it four." He sat beside her, grasping her hand, then tracing her wedding ring. "I told Dad that you and I weren't gonna have kids anytime soon because of what Ben needed. But maybe we can alter that timetable." Let's get pregnant today, this trip, as soon as you stop taking your pills. I'll be a father to a baby, that will take all my attention.

"Kendall, if Herm asked you to come back...."

"No!" He sighed, then kissed her knuckle near that ring. "I don't want that, I don't wanna be away from you."

Not on road trips, not obsessing during a season. Not, God forbid, if you chose what Delia has, staying in Montgomery while Wilson lives on the West Coast. None of those scenarios are enough, none of them would be right. "Sarah, I love it here, Tennessee's my home and...."

"So is the pitch."

Their eyes met, hers resolute, his with small tears escaping. "Don't say that, please Sarah, don't...."

She put a finger to his lips. "Kendall, ever since we came home, I've known it. A part of you is back there, running around on that field. And I know that makes you heart sick. But honey, we're a part of you now too. Me, the boys, Summerland. If you need to play, if you need to go back there...."

He trembled and she steadied him. "I don't want it, I just want you." And our sons, and this state and my truck, a new house, but not a mansion. I don't want palm trees or daily sunshine or the ocean. I don't need that, I just....

Again she laid her hand over his heart. He flinched, the pain intense. "Does this hurt?"

He nodded weakly.

"You took all my pain Kendall. I didn't think that was possible, but you did. Honey, I love you. I don't want you to hurt again."

Are you pushing me away, sending me back to a place I don't want to go to, not entirely. Oh my God, yes, I want to play, want to give it one more shot. Shit! I cannot believe this. "Sarah, I, I...." I can't even say it, can barely think it. Ben, my son, he's happy, he's whole. I will not trade my, my.... "Sarah, I can't, not now, not...."

"If you don't Kendall, you'll never be free."

Free? But I am free, you've given me everything, your love, children, a home. "Honey, I have it all here. I don't need anything else."

"Kendall, don't lie to me."

Her tone was soft, like he was one of the boys, being chastised for some small error. "Baby, we'll figure something out, but don't do what he did. Jimmy never let it go, never was able to be happy. Yes he loved me and the kids, but some part of him had withered, and he never let any sun on that part of his soul. Kendall, you are the most loving, giving man I have ever known. I know what you'd do, if I let you." She smiled. "But that's not what matters most. What matters is being true to oneself, and those we love. I could've brushed you off, not let you in. But I couldn't do that, not for me, or the boys. Or you. I saw who you were as soon as I met you. You were my, my...." She bit her lip. "My man for life, my lover, the keeper of all my secrets. The holder of my heart, and Kendall, it hurt like hell admitting that, about as much as how you hurt after Casey died."

She gripped his hands, clinking their rings. "You wanted to die, I know you did. And you nearly killed yourself, killed your soul. If I hadn't had the boys, I would have, no question. My life felt so empty, no purpose, except for them. And then after I screwed up Christmas, oh my God. Then I really felt there was no reason to go on.

"Except that you were out there, waiting. I destroyed a part of my sons' childhood as your world fell apart. Then a year later, you were standing on my mother's front porch." Sarah kissed his fingers. "One Friday in spring, when I was a senior, Jimmy was standing there, waiting for me to get home from school. We'd sorta been seeing each other, not really dating, but just getting to know one another. I came home, there he was, just like how I met you."

Oh honey, Sarah, don't, I can't, I.... Kendall kissed her, and they made love. It wasn't like their first time in her small bed, or like moments before as a newly married couple. Kendall thought it must be how his parents or Sarah's had loved, as though years were long accrued. When she finished, he swiftly followed, and as he lay atop her, Kendall didn't ache. Her heart was right against his, steadying his muscle with her sturdy beats.

He wanted to refute everything she had said. All he could do was inhale, then exhale, exhaustion bearing heavily. Then he brushed his face along hers, one of the most satisfying parts of loving her. "Sarah, how? How in the world are we supposed to do this?"

He grimaced while saying those words. Yet, his heart continued to beat strongly, even as she squirmed out from under him. Then she took him her arms, holding him very closely as she had after their first time. He couldn't see her face, thought it good. He felt as fragile as in late January, also just as protected.

She stroked his head, running her fingers through his hair. "Kendall, you remember this, like after we first made love?"

"Uh-huh."

She chuckled softly. "We didn't know _how_ after that, but it seems we managed all right. And honey, we'll figure this out too. We will Kendall, we'll do this together, all four of us."

He nodded as a wave of tears rushed from his rib cage. He knew they poured from his eyes, but if he could accurately describe it, the flow was straight from his heart. Sarah placed her hands over his chest as if to halt the bleeding. The pressure felt good, but still Kendall wept.

Sarah called his name, telling him how much she loved him. Kendall wondered how that could be when he felt so torn. As Sarah stopped speaking, Kendall turned to face her, caught by her vivid blue eyes, which shone like gems in her face. He smiled, stroking her cheek; for the rest of his life, no matter where he went, she would be at his side. He had never felt that way with Natalie, or anyone else. Sarah nodded, as if reading his thoughts, then she set her face along his, absorbing his tears.

A deep peace wound into him, starting from where their faces met, making Kendall close his eyes. They were bound by more than the vows stated earlier that day, or by the children they now shared. He wondered if other married couples possessed this sort of intimacy, or was he particularly blessed.

He was blessed, he realized, as Sarah set her lips to his. Then Kendall found their bodies merging as if by magic. It was only lovemaking, although it felt differently now that Sarah was his wife. It was permanent, it was healing, it was.... Kendall kept his eyes closed, mumbling _Sarah Adelaide Schultz_ in between fervent kisses.

"My beloved husband," she replied in a heady whisper, making Kendall almost laugh out loud. He was her legally wedded spouse, and not even sports would keep them apart. He had no idea how he could play soccer and remain in Summerland, but no matter where they resided, Sarah was a part of Kendall for as long as he lived. He kissed her, easing the dilemma from his heart. It remained wedged in his head, but he could think about it tomorrow.

_______________

### Liner Notes

This novel's initial draft was written in late 2012. A year later I was busy with _The Hawk_ , but publishing this story was still a consideration. As the years passed, I found myself busy with family, from the arrival of grandchildren to my father's death, then my mom's recent passing. Another issue precluded me from releasing this tale, that of a sequel which I had planned on writing, but still has yet to emerge. So why am I now offering this book to the general public? It comes down to the theme of this novel, that even in the midst of abject misery, another day awaits.

When plotting this tale, I didn't plan on Kendall's about face at the end of Chapter 19, but characters often force their own agendas into the mix. Being true to how the finale unfolded, I left wide open not merely the possibility of a sequel, but had written myself into a corner of sorts. I stewed about that tight-fitting space every time I revised this book, then in 2016, I tacked on a few additional paragraphs, creating a means of escape. But still I vacillated, and this story remained unpublished. Last week I decided to give this manuscript a look, and as I read, my heart was assuaged not only by the wiggle room I'd produced, but in being reminded that regardless of how painful this day might be, better times are ahead. And I bet I'm not alone in needing that prompt.

I can't say for certain that a sequel will materialize; I am still struggling to find time to edit my previous novel. Yet Kendall's journey isn't reliant upon a supplement; he and Sarah both find completion upon saying _I do_ , while Heath and Ben's hearts are set free. A recurring theme within my books is that while crap happens, if we chose to move forward, deeper compassion is one result. It's not a lesson easily learned, but the ensuing liberty and ability to help others is worth all the heartache. I pray that this novel proffers peace and healing as well as enjoyment. And if I ever do pen a sequel, rest assured I'll publish it in a timely manner.

Special thanks to Julie K. Rose for editorial advice, and to my husband for all his love.

### About the Author

Anna Scott Graham was born in 1966 in Northern California. A mother and grandmother, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, some hummingbirds, and numerous quilts.

Other books by  Anna Scott Graham are available on Smashwords.
