The Alpha's Second Chance Page 7

  Yeah. He didn’t know my parents.

  The ride back home was far better than the one to Denver. My first class flight had gone off without a hitch, and before I knew it, I was back home. I figured I’d call Pete in the morning and see if the team really needed to see the certificate of completion or not. Even though it would be nice to see my parents and all, I had a lot going on. The off season was my only time to catch up on a lot of stuff before I headed back to training camp in July.

  As I climbed into my bed, my mind drifted to the weekend. It had been really incredible to see Lauren again. I just wished it had been under different circumstances.

  “Good morning, Shawn.” Charlie stood at the door to my darkened bedroom. “Would you like me to open the blinds, or are you needing some more sleep?”

  I yawned and stretched, and looked at the clock. It was 7:32 a.m. “No, I’ll get up. Thank you, Charlie.”

  The next thing I knew, my blackout curtains were slowly opening, revealing a gray and pink Houston morning sky.

  “Your coffee and green drink are ready for you in the kitchen,” he said before closing the door behind him.

  Stretching before I got out of bed, I wondered if Kyle was still in a snit. I sure hoped not. I got out of bed and pulled on the mesh shorts and Houston Heroes hoodie that Charlie had laid out for me. Slipping on a new pair of Nikes, I figured I’d have the coffee, the green drink, maybe go for a run, and then call Pete.

  The house seemed particularly empty this morning. Maybe it was just from being in a crowded ski resort or something this weekend, but it was starting to feel weird that I lived here all alone with just me, Charlie, Kyle, and a couple of housekeepers and gardeners.

  The coffee and green drink were long gone, and I was sweating up a storm after my run. It was 9:00 a.m., and I needed to call Pete before I hit the shower. His answer would determine whether or not I was going to be packing for Pasadena or making an appointment to get a haircut.

  “Ryan. Welcome home from Colorado.” Pete answered the phone on the second ring, and sounded to be in a much better mood than the last time we spoke. It helped that the media attention had died down and moved on to the next celebrity du jour.

  “Thank you, sir. It’s good to be home.”

  “How was the training?”

  “Actually, I learned a lot.”

  “Not surprised. I’ve heard good things about that Lauren Gordon.”

  Believe me, you heard right …

  “I’m calling with a question, sir.”

  “What’s that?” I could hear that he was in the car because someone honked their horn.

  “I’m wondering how important it is to have the actual certificate of completion in my file. Or is my attendance sufficient?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line and his voice changed. “Why? Did you fail the training or something? Why do you ask?”

  “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that the trainer wants us all to go talk to a bunch of people and write up a report within three weeks in order to get the certificate.”

  “So? What’s the problem?”

  “There’s no problem. I just wasn’t exactly planning a trip to Pasadena at the moment.”

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on spending several thousand dollars for you to get sensitivity training either. Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we plan it, does it?”

  I sighed. There was my answer.

  “Not to worry. I’ll call you when I get back from California.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, and Ryan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “No offense, but I’m a Trojan man, myself.” Of course he’d be a USC fan.

  The next call I made was to my parents. While part of me was hoping they might be taking my sister Susie on an early spring break vacation, another part of me knew I just needed to get this over with so I could get back to my life.

  “Hey, Shawn!” My dad answered the phone right before it went to voicemail.

  “Hey Dad.”

  “How are things in Houston?”

  I could tell by the weird tone in his voice that he’d seen the news stories. I hadn’t bothered calling home because, well, what exactly was I going to say? This wasn’t the kind of thing my mom was going to be discussing in her book club. “Yes, and then he said that she needed to get laid so she would stop being a bitch.”

  I was starting to cringe every time I thought of the whole thing. “Pretty good. Say, listen …” Why was this so awkward? “I am going to be coming back to Pasadena this week.”

  “Oh, you are?” He then put the phone away from his mouth. “Gayle. Shawn says he’s coming home this week!”

  From a distance I heard her voice say, “What for? It’s not the holidays or the UCLA/USC game.”

  Ouch. That made me wince. Was I really the kind of son that visited so rarely that my parents wondered why I was coming unless it was the holidays or our crosstown rivalry football game?

  Then again, they were right. The last time I’d come in the off season was when my best friend from childhood, Chet Erickson, got married. And that was five years ago.

  “He didn’t say,” my dad shouted to my mom. “So, what’s bringing you to town?”

  I didn’t want to get into it over the phone so I said, “Nothing important, but I was thinking of flying in within the next couple of days. Are you guys free, or should I stay at the Westin?”

  “No, no, son. Your room is always ready for you. You know that. Susie will be thrilled you’re coming. Send your flight information and we’ll pick you up. Are you flying into Burbank or LAX?”

  “Not sure yet, but I’ll rent a car.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well.” There was a pause and then he said, “It will be good to see you, Shawn.”

  “You, too, Dad.”

  14

  Lauren: Doctor’s Orders

  “Hey Lisa, it’s Lauren again. I’m not sure if you’re not getting these messages or what, but Mom says she called you a bunch of times and I’ve left a bunch of messages too. I’m getting ready to get on a plane and am going straight to the hospital. The flight is like two hours, but if you call when I’m in the air I’ll call you when I land. But, Lisa. Please call Mom. Or even better, go to the hospital and be with her until I get there. She’s scared and alone.”

  I could see the people on my flight starting to board so I said, “Okay. I hope you get this message. Bye.”

  I hung up the phone and grabbed my weekender bag and headed to the woman scanning tickets. My sister Lisa had always been selfish and immature, but honestly this took the cake. She better have a damn good reason for being out of contact like this.

  One way or the other, I was going to be with my parents in less than three hours.

  “You can just drop me off here.” My Lyft driver was trying to take me to guest parking, but my dad had been taken into the ER.

  Still no word from Lisa, which was making me madder and madder by the moment. My mom said that they had done a bunch of tests and she was waiting for the doctor to come and talk to them. I was hoping to make it in time to hear what he had to say, but if this moron kept circling the parking lot, I might miss it.

  “Seriously. Just stop the car and I’ll walk from here.”

  “Are you sure? My GPS says the entrance is …”

  “The entrance is the big giant red sign that says Emergency. Yes, I am sure. Thank you for the airport ride. I can walk from here.” I didn’t wait any longer, but grabbed my bag and got out of the car. It was like nine in the morning, ten Denver time. I was tired, and it had been a long two days. It was crazy to think that just yesterday I’d driven back from Breckenridge, and now less than twelve hours later I was in LA.

  I was glad to be in good shape, because I made it across the parking lot in a matter of minutes. Rushing up to the ER desk, I gave them my name and showed my ID. I slapped on the paper Visitor’s Pass and followed the woman through the double doors that led to the inner sanctum
of the Emergency Room.

  The long, white hallway that leads from the real world into the ER was always surreal. It was like some strange passage into another universe where you had no control over what happened to you, and prayers were your currency. You could never be more aware that life is unpredictable than when you were walking down the hallway in an ER.

  Passing by the families hidden behind fabric curtains, watching over loved ones who were attached to beeping machines, my heart clenched. What would I find when I got to 17B?

  Nurses and orderlies stood at their station, on computers that stood next to dry erase boards with patient names on it. My eyes scanned for the one name that mattered to me. Ted Gordon. 17B.

  Finally I found the number. I saw my mom first, sitting on the very edge of a hard plastic chair. She was facing the end of a hospital bed. Sticking my head through the privacy curtain, I saw my dad. He looked good!

  “Little Bear!” His face lit up when he saw me. “You came!”

  I had to fight back tears of relief. “Daddy!” I ran over to hug him, being careful with his IV and monitors.

  “Oh, Lauren. I’m so glad you’re here.” My mother’s eyes were red rimmed from crying and for the first time in my life, she looked old to me. She wasn’t old, of course. She was only in her fifties. But, the stress of this gave me a preview of what age would look like on her.

  “Daddy, what happened?” I pulled up a spare chair and sat next to him, holding his hand.

  “It was the damndest thing. Your mother and I went to Ikea to replace that black and white lamp that we had on the side table in the living room. That cat of yours jumped up and knocked it over and broke it the other day.”

  The cat, Mr. Nutter Butter, was not actually “my cat” but was the family cat, and whenever it got in trouble, my dad referred to him as “my cat,” because I was the one who brought him home. But I’d been living in Denver for years now.

  “So we were standing right there in the lighting section of Ikea debating the lamp styles when I felt like I’d been shocked, even though I wasn’t touching any of the lamps. The next thing I know, I wake up here.”

  My mom then filled in the rest of the story. “The ambulance brought him here and they did all kinds of tests. We’re waiting for Dr. Guzman to come and give us an idea of what happened.”

  Oh, good. So I hadn’t missed the doctor.

  “Any word from Lisa?”

  “Yes. She finally called back. Spoke to your father. She and Carla are up in San Francisco celebrating their anniversary. She said to let her know what the doctor says and she’ll come home if she needs to.”

  I took a deep breath, trying not to explode in anger. Maybe put down the Ghirardelli chocolate bar, and get on a damn plane and come to the hospital when your father drops unconscious in an Ikea, Lisa.

  “She said she knew you were on the way and figured it wasn’t important that you both be there.”

  I stole a glance at my dad, and his face was beaming as he looked at me. “Thank you so much for coming all this way, Little Bear. You have no idea what it means to me.”

  Yeah, Dad. I think I do.

  It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon when the doctor finally came in. The three of us had spent hours talking, watching game shows on TV, and listening to the sounds of the hospital. Dad was starving, but wasn’t allowed to eat until the test results came back. I’d sent Mom down to get herself something in the cafeteria, and Dad took the opportunity to ask if I’d ever thought about moving home. I deflected the question, since I really didn’t want to think about any of that now. When my mom finally came back, we started talking about her volunteer work and the work she was doing with Habitat for Humanity. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine my mother wielding a hammer.

  “Mr. Gordon?” An insanely handsome physician pushed back the curtain and came in, holding a file folder. He then saw me and flashed a perfect, white smile. “Oh, hi. You must be Lesley.”

  “It’s Lauren.” I extended my hand.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Mark Guzman, your father’s doctor.” He pulled up a stool on wheels and sat down. “Okay, so we have the results of your testing. You did experience a mild myocardial infarction due to a blocked coronary artery. Fortunately, the blockage was minor and we were able to clear it out without needing a stent while we were doing the cath lab. You won’t need any additional surgeries at this point.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news, doctor,” my mother said, with relief washing over her face.

  Dr. Guzman still had a serious expression. “But, Mr. Gordon, you did have a heart attack due to cardiovascular disease. I recommend that you change your diet and lifestyle to prevent the heart disease from worsening.”

  “So, what? No more red meat? I can do that. Nancy, you make a mean chicken breast.”

  “No, I’m afraid it’s more extensive than that. I recommend that you watch the movie Forks Over Knives and adopt a whole foods, plant based diet. Many people have experienced dramatic reversals of heart disease with a plant based diet.”

  “We’ll do anything it takes, doctor,” my mother said.

  After a few more pleasantries, the doctor stood to leave and I followed him out to the main area of the ER.

  “So, my dad is going to be okay?” He was tall, and I found myself looking up at him. He had a kind face with big brown eyes, a neatly trimmed moustache, and a cleft in his chin.

  “I think so. But it’s important that he make the needed lifestyle changes.” He handed the file to a nurse and put his hands in his coat pocket. “Will you be staying for awhile to help them get adjusted? It’s going to be important that they have family support for the first few weeks. Not only will your father be receiving cardiac rehab, but the transition in diet will require learning all new ways to cook. You don’t happen to be vegan, do you?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not even close.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to take you shopping and give you some pointers and cooking tips.”

  “Oh, that’s very kind, Dr. Guzman. But …”

  “Mark. Please call me Mark.”

  Was it my imagination, or was my father’s doctor flirting with me and asking me out?

  “Okay, Mark. Honestly, I have been awake for more than twenty four hours and this is all very confusing to me. Let me get back to you?”

  He smiled warmly and said, “Of course. I completely understand. Tell your parents I’ll be back to check on them before he’s discharged.”

  As he walked down the hall, I took a look at him. He was handsome enough. Seemed like a nice guy. But, was it weird that he asked me out? I’d call Savannah and ask her about it. Maybe Mark Guzman was one of those elusive “nice guys” I’d been looking for.

  Either way, I’d better stop at the market on my way back to my parents’ place and get rid of all the junk food before my dad was released. And find that movie on Netflix, too.

  The Gordon Family was going whole foods plant based.

  15

  Shawn: The Boy Next Door

  Maybe I ought to learn how to fly. It felt like all I did was fly on airplanes these days. Flying from city to city for games and then in the off season catching up on personal travel. There would be no way I could ever have a dog or other kind of pet. I was just gone too much.

  Fortunately, on the flight to LA, my First Class seatmate was buried in his spreadsheets and had earphones on, so I didn’t have to bother with conversation. One of the reasons I preferred to fly First Class was because people mostly just left you alone. In economy I was always being hounded for autographs.

  We were well on our way and I’d had a beer and a sandwich and was feeling sleepy. I could watch a movie on the screen in front of me, but nothing really grabbed my interest.

  Instead, I just closed my eyes and thought about what it would be like to be home.

  My parents had been married for forty years. Rob and Gayle Ryan met when they both attended Santa Monica high school in the late 1970s. Dad join
ed the Coast Guard and Mom worked in her parents’ travel agency and they got married a few years later. Neither of them had gone to college, but had worked in their parents’ businesses until my mom’s parents retired and they took over the travel agency. They hadn’t planned on having kids, but just spent their time travelling the world. That is, until a fateful trip to London, where they conceived me.

  When the internet became a thing, and more and more people began booking travel for themselves online, my parents sold the business and we moved to Pasadena. I was still in elementary school and so I didn’t really care. My parents kind of semi-retired and when I started playing football they were able to travel to almost all of my games, all the way up to my second year of high school.

  When I was a junior in high school, my parents had another surprise pregnancy and that was my sister Susie. Because my mom was in her mid forties at the time, it was considered a “high risk” pregnancy. Susie was born with a mild form of Down’s Syndrome, and making sure that Susie had everything she needed to be able to attend a mainstream school took a lot of their time and attention.

  That’s why when I got drafted by UCLA, they were thrilled because it was close by and my scholarship paid my tuition.

  Susie was just a toddler when I moved out and into the dorms at UCLA. My career kind of took off after that, and I didn’t come home as often as I probably should have.

  Like a lot of guys on the team, I tried to make up for missing time with my family by sending lavish gifts. But, it mostly just seemed to embarrass them.

  My parents had each fallen in love with the boy or girl next door, and when Lauren and I started dating, I knew they were hoping that things would work out. “It’s family tradition, son,” my dad used to tease me. I know he overlooked the nights when I’d sneak out so that I could go next door and sneak in Lauren’s window.