Reading The Defense Ch 05

Many thanks need to go out for this one.

Estragon --Thank you doesn't even do complete justice, however, for now-- you know where you are thanked. You've taken yet another chapter on, and given insight—and good pointers!

PennLady -- Thank you for being so incredibly nice, and listening—er reading my fear of writing conflicts between characters. And opening the doors to a certain football team!

EastCoastChickPA- There is not enough hours in a day for you! Gracias for your awesomeness.

As always, comments/thoughts/suggestions are always welcomed.

****

Curled up in an old sweater, Samantha sat on the couch waiting for Gabe to pick her up. Thanks to the holiday, she only had to work a half day and was surprised when Gabe had offered take her to the airport. She was even more surprised when he mentioned driving up to Michigan in the morning to spend the day with his family. She hadn't expected him to take any time for himself and was pleased that he finally was. The rain had been falling since the early hours. Knowing the way the airport ran, she had a feeling the flight might get delayed and could only be thankful that she was gaining a couple of hours.

Not long after she had finished a cup of coffee, she heard Gabe opening the front door. As he came into the entranceway she couldn't help but laugh at his disheveled appearance. He was soaked; from the time he left the truck to the time he go to the front door rain had dumped on him. His hair lay flat on top of his head, while tracks of moisture fell down his parka.

"Don't move--let me get you a towel!" While he was standing, the water started dripping off him. Samantha didn't even want to think about the rug he was standing on, as she dashed off to grab a towel for Gabe. When she came back, he took it and rubbed his head vigorously.

"It's ugly as hell out there, so if we're going to get anywhere near the airport we should go. Are you ready?" Gabe opened the door to the laundry room and placed the towel on top of the washer, in the front room Samantha had started to do a final walk through of the house.

"Yes, I think so." Gabe watched her quietly, as she put on her jacket and shut off the lights. He had to leave before she woke that morning and wanted to savor every minute with her until she flew out. As soon as she got everything in order, they both rushed out to the truck, hollering as the rain continued to pour down. Reaching over, Gabe took Samantha's hand and brought it to his lips. She turned her focus from out of the window to his gesture.

"How was class this morning?" He spoke quietly, the hum of the radio barely audible in the background.

Returning the squeeze to his hand, "Unproductive." She laughed lightly at the thought of her students in the morning. The clouds had turned dark as night, once the thunder and lightning struck, the children lost all of their attention spans. "We shut off the main lights and left the lamp on, the one that sits in the corner. The kids had an idea about telling everyone what they were most excited for. So for an hour we all sat in the front of the room and went one by one doing that."

Samantha glanced back out the window, knowing she would miss her students over the short break. "What about you?"

She turned back to him with a confused look on her face. "What about me?"

Facing the road, he quickly looked over at her to ask, "What are you most excited for?"

Samantha laughed. "I'm dying to see one of my girlfriends. It's been too long since we've had a night of wine and gossip."

Gabe laughed at her, "you get that all of the time."

"I know, but this is different. It will be like a reunion of sorts. Someone out of New York has picked up a few pieces from her gallery collection, and I am dying to find out what's going on with it all."

For the rest of the drive to the airport, Samantha asked Gabe about his morning. In between the truck's constant breaking from the gridlock traffic, he told her that several of the players had been disruptive during the morning practice. It turned out that Marcus Jennings had decided to create a little tension with the already close group of men. Without knowing, he had started to date a woman who had previously been with one of the linebackers. Dirty comments were shouted back and forth, followed by dangerous tackles. During that practice, a connection was lost and the team was nowhere near playing to their potential. Gabe didn't say outright that the dispute worried him; what he did say was that there was a slip in their confidence. He worried that, if the men allowed something personal to break their concentration, their ability to stay stable and focused through the game on Sunday would dwindle.

The lineup near the departures at the airport was long but moved steadily enough so that Gabe could maneuver the truck near one of the many airline entranceways, without having to wait very long. They both got out quietly, Samantha bit her lip and waited for Gabe to get her bag from the back of his truck. Placing the bag next to her, she looked into his eyes and was surprised to see how sad they looked. Even though they'd been together for several months, everything about him still took her breath away. Reaching for her hands he pulled her into a warm embrace, Samantha rested her cheek in the crook of his neck feeling more at home there.

Gabe's face dropped to her neck and kissed her softly where the skin was so warm. The air was chilled and she shivered from both his touch and the gusts of wind blowing past them. He pulled away and traced her lips with his finger, Samantha's eyes dropped and when she lifted her face back up, he was amazed to see fresh tears.

"Oh, sweetheart." He leaned forward and kissed the moisture with his lips.

"Don't feel bad, it's the wind," she scoffed back at him, which only caused him to laugh. With a sigh, she looked deeply at him. "I wish you could come with me."

Gabe rubbed her back as best as he could through the thick wool of her pea coat. "Me too."

She didn't want to dwell in the last few minutes she had with him, and would wait until she got on the plane to do that. Gazing into his dark brown eyes, she couldn't help but try and convince herself this trip was no different than the Cougars' away games, let alone the many weeks that passed where they would only see each other a few times in between meetings. Rubbing her hands up and down the front of his jacket, Samantha stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek. Gabe wrapped his arms around her and turned to capture her mouth. Their tongues met for a soft stroking before she dropped back down to her feet.

In a stern voice, Samantha tried to sound confident. "Three days. It's only three days."

Gabe nodded and rubbed her back again. "Call me when you get there." He dropped his lips to hers one final time before she grabbed her bag and headed inside.

Gabe watched Samantha as she walked into the airport, feeling as if he had done something wrong by letting her go alone. For the past week he had been pushing himself, trying not to think too much about her leaving. Anything like that would help him avoid the sleep, which would be filled with dreams of her. He didn't want to fall into bed by himself, and when he did, it was a fitful rest. He relished the night before and would call on it when the house began to feel empty. He had become used to feeling Samantha's warm body curled up next to his even if it lasted just for an hour before he had to leave. How she covered her face in the night with a hand and how she draped herself on him for warmth after he'd taken all of the covers. Sleep wasn't a good idea.

Driving back to the Cougars' complex to envelop himself in notes, Gabe wondered how in the hell he was going to get through the next three days. Here he was worrying about the players trying to get through a game without murdering each other, and yet he didn't know if he could survive the next seventy two hours without turning into a raging ass. Before he could even think about it, his phone started to ring. Glancing down at the display, he nearly hit the brakes.

"Is everything okay?" Gabe dimly heard a soft intake of breath on the other line of the telephone.

"Oh! I didn't think you'd answer." Samantha was greeted by Gabe's warm chuckle. "Yes, it's okay, though I am beginning to question Homeland Security. Gabe--was that just weird?"

Gabe laughed, "Sweetheart, you're killing me. What's wrong?"

She sighed deeply, before rapidly spitting out her words. "I don't know. I'm just being sensitive and feel like we didn't really say goodbye."

"Sam, it's no different than us being apart any other time." The words were less than enthusiastic, but out before he could think about them.

"I know, I'm being silly. Why did I even call you?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad you did. You'll be home before you know it and we'll talk in between. Sweetheart, you're going to have a great time, you need it."

"Why are you such a good guy Gabe? Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?"

"It doesn't matter; you will have a good time because if you don't, you'll get punished for it."

"Hmm, that sounds tempting. Oh, Gabe there's something flashing on the board about my flight. I should go."

"Okay, call me when you can. I miss you already." Even to his own ears, Gabe thought he sounded like a puppy on a leash.

Samantha breathed deeply, "I miss you too. Take it easy with Marcus please, I like him. I'll call you soon."

After they hung up, Gabe checked the rearview mirror and couldn't wipe the smile from his face. He had wanted to tell her he loved her just then, but couldn't muster the words. His feelings for her were so apparent he couldn't understand why the reality of them took so long for him to figure out. Samantha was everything he could have asked for, she understood him better than anyone else ever had. That night when he caught her at the bar had been the luckiest night of his life. Now he just needed to get through the next three days and the rest of the season so they could actually be together.

****

Feeling like she had gone into a time machine by being back where she had been raised, Samantha sank into the couch at her mother's house with a glass of wine in hand while she waited for her friend to come over. The sight of her mom at Sea-Tac Airport made Samantha laugh out loud. She had just exited through the automatic glass doors and walked in the direction of a shrieking woman. It had been months since they had an opportunity to see each other and so the greeting was more than warming.

"Your sister is going to need a vacation after this weekend. Honestly Samantha, you are doing the cooking right?" Samantha smiled, only her mother would be so formal with her. The woman spoke as she came into the kitchen and placed the house telephone back on the charger. For a woman who turned fifty four, a few months back, she could have easily come across as someone in her mid forties. Her shorter blonde hair was disheveled but defined, the light tones of the brown eye shadow magnifying her blue eyes and her dress stamped with department store approval.

"Yes, I talked Pete into preparing the turkey tonight and starting it in the morning, but apart from that I'll start things once I get up. You did remember to get the Grand Marnier, right?"

"Oh dear, I knew I forgot something. Look in the cupboards and see if there isn't already a bottle in there. There has got to be something similar. Stan always threw some sweet thing in his coffee at night, I'll never know why."

Pamela Morrison-Dobson was a wonder on her own. When Samantha's father had passed away due to a heart condition when she was a child, her mother had taken her time with moving on. Only that time had taken three walks down different types of aisles. Unfortunately the last, with Stan, may have been the last one and she was in the final process of being divorced. "What do you need the liqueur for anyways? There will be plenty of wine."

Laughing, Samantha got off of the couch and walked over to the kitchen in search of the liqueur. "It's for the crème brule. Somehow I didn't think Kelly would be too keen on only that dessert so I'm making miniature pumpkin pies for the boys."

Sure enough, in the cupboards there was a smaller bottle almost full, which would work for her recipe perfectly. Placing the bottle on the countertop, Samantha gazed at the cluttered refrigerator door. Cards from the people at her mother's work, a calendar, pictures of her nephews. And a picture of her and Gabe. For a moment she was taken aback by the photograph, but began smiling at the memory. In the picture, Samantha was draped over Gabe's back, both of them laughing into the camera.

Sometime just after the season had started, Camille and Samantha had worked together to find a time where they could surprise the men by taking them out to play a round of golf. Neither Camille nor Samantha could play, so they ended up sitting in the club drinking tea, talking, while the men got through their round. By the sixteenth hole, the women had gotten bored and decided to find Gabe and Ernie. Samantha didn't know how to play golf, let alone understand the rules, but when Gabe leaned down and got set up to putt she wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped on his back. Gabe had dropped the club and straightened as best as he could with her clutching him tightly. Somehow, Camille got her phone out at just the right time to get the picture of the two of them laughing.

"I love that picture." Pamela had taken a seat at the table while Samantha had been searching for the liqueur.

Touching the picture with her fingers, Samantha could only nod. She loved it too. The sound of the doorbell tore away all thoughts, and Samantha could hardly hide her excitement. Rushing to the front, door she opened it to one of her dearest of friends.

"We don't buy Avon in this house. You may want to try next door."

A very un-ladylike snort followed Samantha's comment. "But you're my number one buyer. Oh my god look at you!"

The women started hugging each other, hooting with laughter as they both tugged at their clothes at the same time. Hadley Wilkerson, a few years younger than Samantha was styled in knee high boots and cut off shorts. In November. She was layered up in sweaters and scarves, her hair peeking out of a knitted hat. Her sense of style apparent in her every move, it was nothing short of a surprise when she turned to canvas in creating urban designs. Less than a year ago a man visiting from New York had seen Hadley while she was working at the coffee shop. Because she had worked at the shop during her college days, the manager agreed to put up some of her pieces on the walls. Hadley had been lucky in selling a few, but the promotion was minimal. The man inquired about a particular painting that had been a collection of black and gold with a foil finish. She told the man it was her creation and they immediately started to talk. Months later, she was getting requests for individual canvases; friends of the visiting man had also been interested and began spreading the word of her work.

Samantha pulled Hadley into the house, and soon enough, they were on the couch exchanging stories of how things had been lately with each of them.

"So when do I get the pleasure of having my very Hadley creation?"

"When do you want one by? It's been hectic, but I think I have enough time to get one out to you by February."

"I was joking, but if you can do it. I would definitely take one."

"I'm glad you asked, because I wanted to ask you a few questions about Chicago. That would give me an excuse to deliver the goods. Do you like it there?"

Knowing Seattle was a small city, and Hadley was in search for greater distances to spread her artwork, she answered honestly. "I love it, there is a small town feel to it even though it's a major city. Are you thinking about moving there?"

"I'm not sure yet. The galleries here are independent and aren't really doing anything to allow me to grow as an artist. I'm actually getting requests from a few places in Manhattan but I'm not too sure I want to go that far."

"Hadley, you would have fun. You should come out for a week and I'll take you around. There is actually a neighborhood that you could fit into easily with your style of work. I don't know what rent for your own studio would be like, but it's worth checking out."

"Definitely. I just might have to take you up on that, but enough of my issues. How are things with you?"

The year had been crazier than she even knew how to explain. From her class being filled with a few troubled students to her relationship with Gabe, her life was definitely never dull.

"Really good, I'm kind of relieved to have a break from it all."

"What do you mean? I thought everything was going well."

"Oh no, they are. School has been challenging lately and I've been working with the district on how to improve with certain differences."

Hadley could only know that Samantha was struggling with conflict. She had always looked up to her with admiration. Out of all of her friends she had never once seen Samantha upset or angry over anything. She had always remained calm and collected, something she wished could be bottled up and sold for others to use in times of crises.

"Now that we know work is always work, no matter what profession you're in. How's life in the land of the gridiron?"

Samantha shook her head, "God, everyone says that! It's okay--better than okay."

"But...."

Samantha stalled for a few breaths before she could respond. "I've been having a hard time lately, I know it will pass and I need to get over myself, but it's tough sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I try to make Gabe's job like anyone else's. What would a man think to date an artist like you? You're always out either promoting, working a second job or at a studio painting. When do you have time? That's what I think about with Gabe, how does he have time?"

"Sam, you're thinking way too much about it. First of all, I would never date me. Second of all, I'd tell all the men around to never date me. I'm shit with relationships, but that's because I'm me. Only me. Gabe does not even sound one bit close to anything like me. Don't you think he might look funny wearing a mini and cowboy boots?"

Samantha giggled before taking a sip of wine.

"He seems to be making a serious effort and you can't judge him for that. What do the other women go through with their husbands?"

"They all say the same thing; that living that lifestyle is a sacrifice they chose to take. Some of them don't even talk to their husbands unless they're at home. How crazy is that."

"It sounds like stepford on crack. Relationships take work, Sam. Reverse the roles and look at it from his perspective."

"I do, and that's why I keep quiet about it. I know he's battling everything with the team and then throwing me in somewhere—"

"Sam, you're not being thrown in. You're just as important to him, just as he is to you. The next time he cancels or whatever, you should tell him what's going on upstairs."

"But I don't want to make him feel like he's doing something wrong, because he can't help it."

"It doesn't matter. You need to let him know how you feel. It'd be like lying to him no to. And I hate to say it, but you'd be no different than your fellow stepford women."

As the women continued to talk, Samantha was thinking about everything Hadley had said. She was more than the third person who had tried to get her to push her uncertainties aside. Samantha knew Gabe was an incredible man, that their relationship was the best it could possibly be considering the circumstances. Yet like any other woman in the world, she had doubts. Those doubts, even with all of her efforts, were taking their time in disappearing.