The Chance

  Phrases like that shredded his conscience and reminded him of a truth he couldn’t escape. One that had surfaced a few months ago and had haunted him since then, hounding him and keeping him awake at night.

  The truth was this: Caroline’s affair was his fault.

  The realization hit after his breakdown—the one that had sent him running to God for real, for the first time. He understood now. The faith of his youth was nothing but a hammer. A weapon he wielded against people to get them to fall into line. At work, he used his position of power to keep control over recruits. At home, he had used the Bible.

  He’d made a mockery of Christianity, and now all that remained of his life were shattered pieces of a dream that had died long before Caroline slept with Peyton Anders. He thought about the prisoners at the Pendleton brig and the way Joey had glared at him, taunting him about being free.

  Joey didn’t know anything. Alan Tucker wasn’t free. He was in a prison cell stronger than anything at the brig. Alan had no idea what it was to be free. Once more he looked at Caroline’s words on the envelope, really studied her writing.

  As he did, the flashes came again.

  Caroline tossing back her pretty blond hair at their wedding reception, laughing at something he’d said. I love being with you, Alan Tucker. I’ll love it as long as I live. The clock spun a few hundred times forward. Alan! Come look. She ran through their front door, her tanned legs flying beneath her. The first fireflies of the season! The front yard is like a painting. You have to see it! And he was taking her hand and celebrating summer with her in the front yard of their small home. More time passed, and she was dancing with Ellie in the living room, singing to her. And she was catching a glimpse of Alan in the doorway. God has blessed us, Alan . . . My heart’s so full, I can barely stand up under it. Her smile lit up the room. When we’re old and gray, remind me of this moment. And he had believed with everything in him that he would be that guy, there to remind her, just like she asked.

  She was one of the happiest people he’d ever known. Only years of his harsh words, years of being left alone, could have killed the childlike love for life, the limitless joy, the wide-eyed innocence that once defined Caroline Tucker.

  You were everything to me. He looked at the photo on his nightstand, the one of Caroline and him on their honeymoon. What sort of monster would suffocate the love out of someone like her? When had they stopped laughing and taking walks and watching stars in the sky? Caroline . . . my love. I’m so sorry. I want you back the way you were.

  He would go to his grave wanting that, wanting to be at the other end of her smile. Wanting everything that could never be again. The picture of Caroline and him filled his senses, spreading despair through his body and soul. Please, God, I need a miracle. Another chance. His eyes shifted to a different photograph, the one next to it. A picture of Ellie in Savannah on her seventh birthday. The three of them had gone fishing that afternoon, but Alan remembered the laughter from that birthday more than any fish they caught. He squinted at the picture. His only child. The light from her spirit shone through her eyes, her smile proof that once, a lifetime ago, they had been a happy family.

  If only he could call Ellie and wish her a happy birthday. Just that. The chance to tell his baby girl he was thinking about her. But they hadn’t spoken in seven years. Seven full years. He closed his eyes and shut out the images. Otherwise his heart might stop beating from the sadness. The truth was, now that he’d found real faith, now that he understood his part in what had happened, he wouldn’t mind if his heart stopped.

  But he had work to do first.

  Slowly, gradually, as naturally as one breath followed another, the answers came. God had already forgiven him, already set him free. If he lived in a prison of broken relationships and silent suffocating guilt, it was his own fault. The cell door was unlocked. He opened his eyes and stared at the pictures again. He would figure it out, find a way. Pray about what to do first and how to make a move toward his broken family.

  The thought filled his heart. It swelled through his being until he felt wetness on his fingers. A dampness spreading across the envelope in his hand. What was this? His cheeks were wet, too. He breathed in deep and sniffed a few times. The sensation gave him a hope he hadn’t felt since he left Savannah. Because for the first time since that day, he was doing the one thing he had never done before.

  He was crying.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was the calendar, of course.

  The reason Nolan couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie, the reason she was on his mind every minute. The answer was as close and real as the date. Each time he looked at his phone, the numbers practically screamed at him. As he warmed up on the Hawks home court for the first game in the second round of the play-offs, he didn’t need a countdown clock to know how many days there were until June 1, 2013.

  Twenty-five. The shrinking number hit him first thing every morning, and stayed with him all day.

  In a little more than three weeks, it would be eleven years to the day since the last time he saw Ellie Tucker. He hated that so much time had gone by. Back then, eleven years had sounded like a lifetime. Neither of them believed for a minute it would be that long before they saw each other.

  The tackle box, the letters, burying them beneath the big old oak tree. All of it had been one big “just in case.” Just in case they couldn’t find each other . . . in case they lost touch. Just in case one year became three and three years became five and that turned into eight years, and then ten, without talking to each other.

  Just in case all of that happened, they’d still have a chance.

  “Cook, you with us?” Coach shouted from the bench. He didn’t look worried, just intent. He clapped a few times and pointed to the clock. Four minutes till game time. He flashed a thumbs-up at Nolan. “You good?”

  Nolan clenched his jaw. He had to focus. Had to be solid. Needed to find the zone. Never mind the calendar, this was his season, the one he’d prayed about since he was fifteen. Everything lined up, as if God had handed him the perfect scenario. A few trades in the off-season, and the Hawks had acquired him. With the talent already on the team, everyone believed they were set. This was the year they could win it all.

  Nolan loved the Hawks. Some of the guys studied the Bible and barbecued together, and on their off days, they texted each other. They were like a band of brothers, and Nolan was the leader. At six-four he was hardly the tallest guard in the league. When reporters asked him to explain his success, he always said the same thing. A combination of God-given talent and extreme obsession.

  The one caused by the losses of his sixteenth year.

  He caught the ball, drove in for a layup, and ran to the back of the line. Dexter Davis was in front of him, Dexter who had been his best friend since freshman year at North Carolina. They inched forward in the rotation of the warm-up drill, and Dexter looked back. “You’re thinking about her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not really.”

  “You’re lying.” Dexter wiped the sweat off his brow. “Look, man. She’s not here.” He glanced at the arena. “Isn’t that Kari girl coming to the game tonight?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Dexter turned, caught the ball, shot a pretty jumper, and ran to the back of the line. Nolan did the same, hitting the shot. The moment he was behind Dexter again, his friend looked at him. “So . . . quit it.” Dexter didn’t have to spell it out. He knew everything about Ellie, how Nolan had tried to find her and how the eleven-year mark was almost here. “Quit thinking about her.”

  “Kari?” Nolan grinned.

  “Don’t mess with me, Cook.”

  “Who?” Nolan felt his intensity building. They moved closer to the front of the line. “That’s my girl right there.” He pointed to the ball.

  Dexter flashed him a look. “Better be.” He turned more fully toward Nolan and slapped his shoulders soundly with both hands. “Let’s do this. Come on, Cook. Let’s win it.”
r />   Two more minutes of drills, and the buzzer sounded. Through team introductions and the National Anthem, with every passing second, Nolan felt his mind clear, felt himself pushing back from reality, falling into the zone, the place where he’d spent most of the last eleven years. Where there was only God and the round leather ball.

  Tip-off, and the game began. Nolan had no doubt they’d win. He could feel his teammates around him, sense their places on the court, anticipate their passes and rebounds and movements until they were playing in unison. Even at halftime with a fifteen-point lead, Nolan didn’t let up. Dexter came up to him, right in his face. “Yes! I love playing with you, man. You’re insane out there!”

  Nolan didn’t smile, didn’t celebrate even on the inside. He grabbed a towel and wiped his face and arms. Then he shot a quick look at Dexter. “We haven’t won yet.”

  Not until the game was over and the Hawks had notched a dramatic thirty-four-point win did he allow himself to see something other than the court and the game and the ball. His teammates gathered around him, celebrating, high-fiving and chest-thumping. They were on their way. This was their year. They could feel it.

  Dexter found him after the team huddle and nodded to the stands. There, walking down the stadium steps, was a breathtaking brunette, tall and self-possessed and dressed like someone with the money to express it.

  She smiled as their eyes met, and Nolan waved.

  “Hmm.” Dexter leaned close, his eyes on the girl. “Kari?”

  “I guess.” Nolan motioned for Kari to come closer. He kept his conversation with Dexter discreet. “We’ve never actually met.”

  “Well.” Dexter turned his back to her, his eyebrows raised. “Want my advice?”

  “Not really.” Nolan still faced the girl, but he looked at Dexter. Teasing was part of their friendship. “What’s your advice?”

  “Tonight? Be in the moment.” Dexter was six-eight, a dominating mountain of a man, but right now he looked like a kid on the playground. Three years ago Dexter had married a girl he met in college. The two had waited for each other, and now their faith and lives were a billboard for marriage. Dexter wanted nothing more than for Nolan to find love the way he had. He gave Nolan a light punch on the arm. “You hear me? Be in the moment.”

  “I will.”

  Dexter glanced over his shoulder at Kari and then back at Nolan. “Give the girl a chance.”

  Nolan couldn’t promise anything. He could block out thoughts of Ellie for the game. But pushing away thoughts of her tonight, resisting the obvious comparisons? He wasn’t sure he could do it. He had hardly dated, so his experience was limited. A few setups along the way, a publicity intern two years ago, a couple of chats over coffee. Nothing that stuck.

  It was always easier to focus on basketball and believe he’d find Ellie. Now, though, he had to be realistic. She didn’t want to be found. So maybe the time had come to move on. If only his heart would agree with his head.

  “You’re doing it again.” Dexter gave an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, Cook. At least try.”

  “I will.” Nolan laughed lightly. “Really.” Tonight would be fun—at least he hoped it would be. But there was no getting around his deepest desire. How he’d rather go home and search Facebook or Twitter or Google.

  Anything to find Ellie.

  Nolan had no idea how he and Kari Garrett would spend the next few hours.

  He showered and changed in the locker room while she waited. Small talk kept them company while they walked to his car, climbed inside, and headed out of the complex. Before the first awkward silence could hit, Kari turned to him. “Are you as good at bowling as you are at basketball?”

  “Bowling?” He had figured they’d go for coffee or dessert. See if there was anything there. Bowling was a longer commitment.

  She laughed. “I mean, let’s be real. I can’t take you at one-on-one, but I can hold my own in a bowling alley.” Her long brown hair hung in layers over her shoulders and down her back. “Just saying.”

  Her tone, or maybe the look on her face, made him chuckle. The idea of bowling with the girl beside him sounded like fun. Something he hadn’t done since college. “Actually, I am a decent bowler.”

  “Okay, then.” Her brown eyes sparkled. “I know a place. Hold on.” She pulled her phone from her purse and, after several seconds, she smiled at him. “Turn right at the next light.”

  Again Nolan laughed quietly. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Trust. That’s all you have to do.” She settled back in her seat, holding her phone so she could see the map on the screen. “Trust and drive.”

  She wasn’t Ellie, but she was fun the whole ride to the bowling alley. As they pulled into the parking lot, she looked at him and her smile faded. “Hey, Nolan, just so you know . . . I didn’t want to do this.”

  “You don’t want to bowl?” He found a spot near the entrance, killed the engine, and stared at her. She amused him, that much was certain. “You wanna do something else?”

  “No.” She laughed, her tone softer than before. “I didn’t want this setup. My mom made it happen.” Kari wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes in the cutest way possible. “She does things like this.”

  “Really?” Nolan enjoyed the banter. “My manager told me it was your idea.”

  “Not at all.” She gave a quick laugh, clearly embarrassed. “My mom means well. Once the setup happened, I didn’t know how to back out.”

  Nolan thought for a moment. “My manager and your mom. That’s hysterical.”

  “I figured we’d go bowling and make them both happy.”

  He liked her spunk. “I can take you back to your car.” He raised one eyebrow. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to force you into losing.”

  She studied him, her expression playful, confident. “That’s okay. I mean, I am on a date with Nolan Cook, right? Like, what girl wouldn’t want to be me right now?” She shrugged. “Of course, you’re on a date with Kari Garrett. So . . . yeah.”

  “True.” He liked her attitude. She could probably be a lot of fun if he got to know her. “What guy wouldn’t want to be me right now?”

  “Exactly.” The shine in her eyes was brighter than before. “So . . .”

  “So we might as well bowl.”

  “If you don’t mind losing.”

  “We’ll see about that.” His laughter came easily. He climbed out of the car and opened the door for her. “I had no idea you were a pro bowler.” She stepped out and easily fell in beside him. Their back-and-forth continued as they paid for two games and rented shoes. Nolan felt himself relax. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, but this would be a fun night. He could feel it. They picked a lane at the end of the alley so they wouldn’t be recognized, and he was still enjoying himself an hour later after she’d beaten him soundly two games straight. “Okay, okay. That’s all.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You destroyed me.”

  She gave a small curtsy. “My pleasure.”

  Something about the gesture, the way she moved or her tone, reminded him of Ellie. He forced the thought of her from his mind and grinned. “Let’s get coffee.”

  “We don’t have to.” Her expression softened, and she looked at him. Right through him. She smiled and slipped off her bowling shoes. “Really.”

  His answer was as honest as the good way he was feeling. “I want to.”

  As they left the bowling alley, two kids asked for his autograph. Nolan complied and smiled for a picture with them before he and Kari crossed the parking lot for his car. She looked at him, impressed maybe, or intrigued. “You handled that well. Very kind.”

  “Thanks. The kids are great.” Nolan slowed his pace, in no hurry. “It’s the adults, the ones who’ll sell your signature. They take a little more patience.”

  “Hmm.” Kari looked up at him. “I never thought about that.”

  “Doesn’t happen often.” He grinned at her. “I don’t get out much.”

  She laughed. “That ex
plains your bowling game.”

  He wore jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, the sort of outfit that would blend in at most coffee shops. But his height gave him away, caused people to look twice, and sometimes that was all it took. They had barely ordered their coffee when a group of girls approached him, gushing over his win and asking him to sign their arms and the backs of their shirts.

  Nolan complied quickly and then whisked Kari to the back of the coffee shop. Atlanta was home to most of the country’s rappers and a great number of pop artists. A couple of hit TV series filmed here, too. Usually, the clientele at Breve didn’t come undone over a celebrity sighting.

  “Sorry.” He set his coffee on the table and took the seat with his back to the rest of the café. “It’s the play-offs.”

  “I love how you take it in stride.” She sat opposite him.

  “Yeah, well . . . tell me about you.” He genuinely wanted to know. “You’re making an album, right? That’s what my manager said.”

  “I am.” She sipped her coffee. Now that the conversation was more serious, the walls around her heart seemed to lower just a bit.

  “Your mom can help.”

  “Yes and no. She’s amazing. Everyone knows her music.” Kari smiled. “The comparisons will always be there.”

  They talked about her determination to find her own way in music and her appreciation for her mother’s help. The conversation remained easy as they sipped their coffees and as Nolan asked for her number. “You know.” He winked. “In case I need to text you for bowling tips.”

  She laughed, and again Nolan thought that the moment felt real and comfortable. He wanted to stay here with this girl as long as she would let him, and for the next half hour no one bothered them. It took that long before she asked the question. “So, Nolan Cook. Is there a girl in your heart?”

  If she’d asked any other way, he could’ve told her no. There was no girl in his life, no girl waiting at home for his call. No girl he was texting or calling. He stared at his half-empty coffee just long enough to give himself away.