Authors: Linda Barrett
He raised his head. “What’s the matter?”
“Uh, nothing. It’s a colorful volcano…for about three people.”
Grinning, he pushed the bowl toward her. “Help yourself.”
“Eat up. Michelle needs a healthy daddy.”
It was almost nine o’clock, and her morning had been filled with Michelle-centered activities, including laundry—which hadn’t been done since the baby moved in last Thursday. The elevator had proved handy for getting to the machines in the basement.
“Maria should be here any minute. I want to introduce you before I leave.”
“The kitchen person?”
“Just call her General. We do. She stayed here a lot when Kim was sick, acting like a general at a command center, and now she comes in two mornings a week. She orders groceries, prepares and freezes dinners for me. Just write down what you want and she’ll add it to the list. No problem.”
“I don’t want to cause the woman more work. I’ll shop for myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She uses my credit card and mostly shops online. The stuff is delivered. There’s no extra work.”
Alexis simply stared at him. “Wow. I guess the rich really are different.”
Dan leaned back in his chair. “We bleed red, just like the rest of humanity. Get used to it, because I’m giving you card access, as well. You buy whatever you think Michelle needs for now. When the season’s over, I’ll have more time—”
The sound of the doorbell was followed by a woman’s voice calling Dan’s name. Footsteps approached and Maria Sanchez entered the kitchen, took one look at Alexis and made the sign of the cross.
“Madre de Dios,”
she said, grabbing onto a chair back.
“Here we go again,” mumbled Alexis. “I swear I’m going blonde and getting a haircut.”
“No, don’t do that,” Dan said, quickly going to Maria. “I like you just the way you are.”
Why did that remark make her feel so good? She
watched him lean over and explain her presence to Maria, saw that words weren’t necessary after the woman spotted Michelle. Joy radiated from every part of her.
“Such a beautiful baby! Señor Daniel, now you get happy again. No?”
He hugged her, then stood up, dwarfing the five-foot-zero-inch woman. “Yes, Maria. I’ll be happy again.” But his gaze traveled to Alexis, and he inclined his head.
His salute of thanks was easy to read, and she nodded in return. Maybe, just maybe, contacting Dan had been the smartest move she’d ever made.
Now, Dan pointed at Alexis and then at a sheet of paper on the table. “I made of list of phone numbers—my folks, the store, the cell numbers, Joe’s, Theresa’s, my coach, Gillette Stadium…In an emergency, you call any of them. Or my friend, Andy Romano. You’ve met him.”
She loved it when he tried so hard, loved it because he reinforced her decision to contact him. She’d done the right thing. “I know half the cops in the city. In a real emergency, we’re covered,” she told him. “Relax. Go to work. Knock yourself out…ooh, not really.”
“Enough with the jokes,” he said, grinning. “I’m trying to tell you both something. Something important.”
Alexis glanced at Maria and shrugged. The woman shrugged back.
“Management’s moving forward,” said Dan. “Thursday’s paper will contain a small paragraph about Michelle being my daughter. We have no choice but to
break the news, or the tabloids will catch on sooner or later and turn the story on its head.”
He was right. This wasn’t a joke. Alexis’s muscles tightened, tension filled her. “What are you expecting afterward? A load of paparazzi on the doorstep?”
“Hopefully not, but you never know what the gossip rags will do. We have a good rapport with the mainstream media, so I’m not concerned about them. Just don’t open the door to anyone for a couple of days after the article appears.”
“Not a problem. Michelle and I will take some nice long walks today and tomorrow. Maybe we’ll go to the Public Gardens.”
“Make way for ducklings,” sang Dan, with an envious smile.
He looked as though he wanted to join them, and Alexis squeezed his hand. “When the season’s over, Danny, you’ll have time for walks, you’ll have the baby all to yourself and the ducklings will make way for you!”
He seemed surprised, as though he’d forgotten about later on. “I will, won’t I?” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, grabbed his gym bag and left for the stadium.
“He’s a good man, my Señor Daniel, no?” Maria asked, not hiding her curiosity.
“He’s a good man, Maria, but get that look out of your eye. He’s Kim’s man, not mine. And besides, I don’t want to live in Manderley.”
The woman frowned.
“I meant, this is also Kim’s house. Her presence is everywhere. I’m only a visitor, Michelle’s aunt. La tia Alexis. And that’s all.”
Maria shook her head, broke into a babble of Spanish that Alexis couldn’t follow and began taking an inventory of the fridge.
Alexis took the baby and made her escape.
THE BOSTON GLOBE
—SPORTS
Thursday, November 1
QUARTERBACK DAN DELITO FATHER OF BABY GIRL
After proving paternity through DNA testing, Dan Delito was granted full custody of a baby girl through the probate court last week. The baby’s mother is deceased, a victim of foul play, according to police reports. “No one can take the place of a mother,” said Delito. “But my daughter will be surrounded by a big, loving family with lots of cousins to play with.”
S
ITTING AT THE KITCHEN TABLE
, already dressed for the day, Alexis folded back the morning paper and circled the article. If Dan hadn’t alerted her in advance, she would have missed the story. It was a short piece buried at the bottom of the NFL page.
She sensed Dan behind her and pointed it out. “I almost didn’t see it. Maybe no one else will, either.”
“Fat chance.” He began assembling his morning feast.
Maria hustled over—Tuesday and Thursday were her days—and Alexis showed it to her. “Have you seen this yet?”
“
Si.
I always read
futbol
news.” The woman shrugged. “The beautiful baby is here. Is Dan’s and
that’s good.” But her voice seemed unsure, and Alexis probed.
“What’s the matter, Maria?”
The woman waved toward the front of the house. “I have fear.”
Dan rose from his seat. “You’re safe here, Maria.”
“Hay caramba!”
The housekeeper turned to Alexis. “Just like last time with Mrs. Kim. People, writers, photographers, they all come to the house. They wait outside.” She shook her head. “They want to talk, take pictures. Pictures? Of a sick lady? Of my poor Daniel? No! Is no good, all those people. No good.”
Wow. Maria had made herself heard, and Alexis was taking mental notes. No one wanted to be stalked.
“It was a very small article,” Alexis said with authority, “in the middle of the week. Not even after a game. I’m sure no one will see it.”
Maria shook her head. “One person reads, then says to the next to the next. People talk. You will see.” Whispering to herself and clucking her tongue, Maria opened the pantry door, then turned to Dan again.
“You got calories for a flan today? I bake.”
“Sure,” he boomed. “Lots of calories to spare.”
Surprised at his volume, Alexis peered at Dan. He was putting on a show. Hugging Maria. Smiling wide.
Alexis had already learned the man was disciplined with food. He lived on certain amounts of carbs, proteins and fats. Maria’s delicious creamy dessert would be loaded with fat, cholesterol and calories. He was taking the gas pipe for the sake of a woman who’d been loyal during the hardest times in his life.
“I happen to love flan,” Alexis said. “Believe me, it won’t go to waste.”
The woman glowed.
The man grinned—directly at her.
Alexis blushed, felt her face flame. She quickly turned her head and scooped the baby from her play mat. “Time to go for a nice long walk, sweetheart, but—phew—you’re stinky again. Back upstairs we go.”
Dan was waiting when they returned. “I’ve got a little time. I thought I’d join you for a couple of blocks, then walk to my car. You’d be on your own afterward.”
“Sure,” said Alexis, “I’ll even let you push the stroller.”
“Great. I’m going to call your bluff on that.” He leaned over Michelle. “Want Daddy to push you, baby?”
Michelle’s eyes drifted closed, and Dan’s carefree laughter floated in the air. A musical sound that made Alexis smile.
“The ladies in my life sure know how to take me down a peg.”
Boston’s star quarterback could laugh at himself—a nice trait. It seemed there was a whole lot more to Dan Delito that Alexis had yet to discover.
I
N FIVE MINUTES, THEY
were outside, enjoying the crisp, fresh air. Dan took a deep breath. Maybe it was because of the game and his career, but fall had always been his favorite season. Nothing beat the blazing foliage of a New England autumn, the expanse of apple orchards loaded with red and yellow fruit, or roadside stands filled with plump orange pumpkins and other gourds.
Now, a pale sun made an appearance with a promise of more warmth later on. Dan reached for the stroller, eager to try out a new daddy chore.
“You look like the Cheshire cat,” said Alexis.
“I’m grinning like a happy man.” It actually felt strange. He hadn’t felt happy in years. He emitted a long, low whistle as the thought hit him. He hadn’t wrestled with his grief in a little while. Could a baby do all that? Was his adorable daughter the key to a happy future? Was it because Alexis was part of the picture? If nothing else, the challenging woman had jolted him from his ennui.
He automatically set a fast pace, but Alexis was right beside him. “You okay?”
“Loving it. Remember, I’m Boston’s most loyal walker, but slow down on the cobblestones for Michelle’s sake.”
“Absolutely.”
“How come you’re driving yourself today?”
“I like driving, but not on game day or on airport treks for away games. Louis is my usual driver. You’ll meet him on Sunday after we beat Miami.”
“Sunday?”
“Sure. We’re playing at home again. The whole family’s going—they always do. You and Michelle, too. We all chipped in for a reserve box at Gillette. No one wanted to be left out.”
“I can watch on TV,” she quickly replied. “Your mom and dad can take the baby. I trust them. Rita can change a mean diaper.”
Her immediate protest caught him by surprise. Most people would give their eyeteeth for a box view at the
stadium. But nothing was simple with Alexis or their entire situation.
He eyed her closely—puckered brow, tight mouth—a picture of worry. He softly said, “No one’s going to faint this time, and I’d like the rest of my family to meet you.”
Silence.
“You’re very important.”
More silence.
“I don’t even see the resemblance anymore.”
“Liar.”
He rattled off the list of differences he’d once shared with his mother.
“Good Lord, Dan, have you examined me in a petri dish?”
He chuckled, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “But you
are
different, Alexis. Totally unique.”
She fit perfectly against him. More important, she felt wonderful against him. A long time had passed since he’d had his arms around a woman—at least when he was stone-cold sober. Two years to be exact.
It was easy with Alexis, almost too easy, and that gave him pause. He never trusted anything that was too easy.
A “
BOX
”
DIDN
’
T ADEQUATELY
describe the Delitos’ thousand-square-foot luxury suite at the stadium. Beautiful furnishings, a private bar and private restrooms delineated the space overlooking the field. More overwhelming to Alexis than her surroundings, however, was the family horde.
Maybe a hundred people, big and little, approached all at once. At least, it
seemed
like a hundred to Alexis, but maybe it was fifty. She’d never liked crowds, so, pasting a smile on her face, she braced herself for the onslaught of…maybe…twenty-five squealing kids and curious adults anxious to get their hands on Michelle.
A man approached first, looking just like Dan, but heftier.
“Hi, Alexis. I’m Joe Delito, Danny’s big brother and manager of Delito’s Italian Deli and Market.”
Shaking his hand, she tilted her head back to look him in the eye, then stole a glance at his petite mother. Joe followed her gaze.
“Wow,” said Alexis. “It’s a good thing babies grow afterward.”
Joe’s hearty laughter rang out. “Good point.”
“So, why aren’t you on the field, too?”
“No regrets there. I played in school—defensive line—but to me, it was only a game. For Dan, it’s his passion. Although,” he continued as he reached for the baby, “he seems to have found another passion.”
“Ooh, she’s gorgeous!” A woman’s voice. “My turn, Joe. My turn.”
Alexis met Mary Ann, Joe’s wife, and their three young sons. Then Dan’s sister, Theresa, needed a turn with Michelle. She nuzzled the infant as though she’d never let go.
“Larry and I have three kids, also,” she said, waving one arm around the suite. “Three girls, but in this family, there’s always room for more. I’m so glad you called Dan. We’re all thrilled to have a new niece.”
No one fainted. Alexis couldn’t fault any of them for their behavior. Dan must have threatened them with expulsion from the suite; Rita and Nick must have threatened to withhold the baby from visits.
More people came. Two young single cousins, then Andy Romano and his family, and Louis Gates—Dan’s driver, who said he’d be taking her and Michelle home that night with Dan.
“Sorry I can’t drive you, but it’s a late game,” said Nicky. “I have to open the store early tomorrow.”
“What about the car seat?” she protested, thinking about the time it had taken earlier to load Nick’s car with the baby’s paraphernalia and install the seat. They’d been lucky to arrive at the stadium before kickoff.
“Nick and I will handle that at halftime. Not to worry,” said the chauffeur with a smile, a handshake and a piercing stare as though memorizing her features for
later recall. “I’ve been driving Mr. Delito around for a long time, and now that he’s a dad, I’ll take even better care of him.”
She wondered if he was referring to late nights at a club or if he’d simply made an innocent remark about getting the star QB to the airport on time. Her stomach tightened when she thought about the first option. She hoped she never had cause to investigate Dan’s whereabouts.
She had no time left to wonder. Miami had won the coin toss and chosen to receive, and the game was in play. She relaxed. The Patriots’ defensive line was on duty. Dan was safely on the sidelines for a little while.
Miami’s aggressive offensive line completed two downs in five minutes and were driving for a TD. Cameras roved to a grim Dan, watching from his seat. The crowd was roaring for defense, not an auspicious beginning to a home game. In the suite, Alexis heard mumblings and quiet swears. Miami had scored.
“Oh, God,” Rita whispered, “they’ll want to keep their lead. When we’re in possession, they’re gonna take Dan out right after the snap.”
“The correct word is
try,
Rita. They’re gonna try to take him out.” Nick didn’t look as confident as his words sounded.
Whatever. Alexis didn’t blink. She put on her cop face. This game was exactly like every other game, and Dan was always in danger.
“You don’t seem too concerned,” said Joe. “That’s good. Enjoy the game.”
She shrugged. “You said it first. It’s his passion. His choice. I’m not getting emotional about a stupid game.” But her heart began to race, and her hands were damp.
With the stealth of a shadow, fear had made its presence known. She was angry with herself for caring, and with Dan for choosing such a dangerous sport.
“In fact, Joe, I’m not going to watch,” she said. “And Michelle’s not going to watch, either. How does your mother survive?”
Without waiting for an answer, she picked up the baby. “Let’s go find your little cousins and play.”
“Ostrich,” Joe teased.
Ignoring him, she scanned the room and approached a lively group of boys and girls, the oldest maybe eight or nine.
She didn’t have to say a word before she was surrounded.
“Michelle wants to say hi.” Alexis waved the baby’s arm at the kids.
“Can I hold her?” asked Emily. Or was it Elizabeth? Both had dark eyes and identical ponytails. Sisters for sure. An adorable toddler girl stood next to them. Theresa and Larry’s kids, she surmised.
“Let’s all sit down on the floor,” Alexis began. The little girls obliged immediately. The little boys just stood there. “Hi, Michelle,” one said. “Gotta watch the game. See you later.” A small boy chorus echoed his sentiments.
Alexis saluted. “Gotcha. Go have fun.” She joined the girls on the floor and plopped Michelle on her lap. “Who’s first to hold Michelle?”
The tallest girl, Elizabeth, answered immediately, and Alexis carefully put Michelle into her big cousin’s lap.
The middle sister, Emily, tapped Alexis on the arm.
“I know who you really are,” she whispered. “You’re Auntie Kim’s angel. Aren’t you?”
“Um…” Her voice trailed away. Obviously, no one had clued the kids in about the resemblance. And now she had to handle a loaded question. When Alexis was a kid, Sherri used to ask her impossible questions, too, her nose wrinkled in confusion as she waited for logical answers from her big sister. Half the time, Alexis invented the answers, but Sherri had needed to believe her and been satisfied. Alexis wondered if she still had a working imagination.
The little girls waited as Alexis slowly looked from one to the other. “If I were an angel, I’d have wings to fly with, and I’d fly around the football field helping Uncle Danny. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “But, look,” she said, standing up again and turning around. “Nothing. No wings. I have to walk step by step, just like you and everyone else.”
“See! I told you so.” Elizabeth frowned but hugged the baby. “She’s not Auntie Kim’s angel. She’s just a regular person.”
“But maybe—” the younger girl tugged Alexis’s hand “—maybe you just don’t got your wings yet. You gotta
earn
them, you know, just like Clarence did.”
Clarence. Shades of
It’s A Wonderful Life.
The older girl was paying attention again, and Alexis wished she could think of a brilliant response, one that would satisfy these sensitive children. She didn’t have a clue.
Theresa’s voice chimed in at that moment, and Alexis sagged with relief. “I see five beautiful angels in front of me.” She pointed at each of the four girls, in
cluding Michelle, and then at the adult. Her gaze met Alexis’s in a warm expression of what could only be sincere gratitude. “In my book, you
are
an angel—for bringing Michelle to us. She is exactly what Danny needs—and you’re not such bad medicine, either.”
“Should have watched the darn game,” mumbled Alexis, avoiding Theresa’s glance. “I’m being sacked too many times myself.”
T
HE
M
IAMI
D
OLPHINS WERE
kicking their butts. Particularly Dan’s. Their defense was all over him like cheese on a pizza. He’d barely caught the snap before they brought him down right in the pocket. Where were his guards? Overwhelmed, too. He had no time to set up a pass to his receivers. Sure, Miami wanted the win, wanted it bad. The two AFC teams were tied for the season so far with nine wins and one loss. Neither of them wanted a second loss.
But one would earn it.
Dan’s team was down by seven, the score 28–21 with three minutes left in the game. By now, he knew he’d need an extra moment to scan the defense before passing, because the Dolphins were taking him out every damn time. He was tired of the slew of bodies on top of him. He didn’t want to go home limping again. Alexis already thought football was a dumb game.
They’d made a first down and were going for their second. On the thirty-seven-yard line, he signaled his center and guards for a shotgun offense, rarely used, and then placed himself six yards back to receive the snap. If his teammates were surprised, they kept it hidden. He’d studied his playbook, he’d reviewed hundreds and
hundreds of hours of videos, he’d studied the offense, the defense, every nuance of the game, and he’d studied the pros from yesterday and today. Pictures stayed in his head. Now, he saw John Elway of the Denver Broncos, who’d been an expert in shotgun offense.
Dan took his place, his center snapped to him and, in what felt like slow motion, he caught the ball, scanned the Dolphins’ defense and spotted his receiver. He threw the ball in a straight line toward Al Tucker, who ran on an angle to meet it. Tuck jumped, caught it and drove toward the goal, three Dolphins after him.
Touchdown!
The screams of the hometown crowd filled the stadium. In his own world, Dan heard nothing. His eyes told him that his strategy had worked.
Six points earned, and now they were only one point behind. The Patriots’ special team kicker got ready for the point-after kick. And made it.
Tied score at twenty-eight.
In the suite, Alexis held the baby while Nicky, Rita and the entire family jumped and cheered, screaming like the crazed fans in the bleachers.
“Only a minute and a half left,” said Nicky. “They’ll go into overtime.”
“More chance for him to get killed,” Alexis said. “In fact, I’m surprised his wife didn’t mind. I read that the damage to a person’s body playing one game is the equivalent of being in an auto accident.”
Rita came over and patted her shoulder. “Who knows what will happen in life? In the end, it was Kim who was taken, no football involved. She often said that Dan’s high energy perked her up and made her feel safe.” Then
she hugged Alexis. “But it’s nice to see that you’re concerned for him. You’re a lovely woman, Alexis. We like you.”
An odd thing to say. “Well, thanks. I hope you’ll still feel that way when my nanny stint is over. Michelle is…well, she’s the only real family I’ve got.” It was true. She hadn’t seen or heard from her parents since Sherri’s death, which was fine with her. They all lived in the same city but in different worlds.
“You’re the baby’s aunt, Alexis. You’re part of our family now, just like Michelle is,” said Nicky. “And that’s a fact.”
Maybe. Maybe not.
“Overtime’s starting,” Joe called out.
She scanned the room for Andy Romano. Reminding him about drafting the visitation arrangements couldn’t hurt.
L
UCK WAS WITH
N
EW
E
NGLAND
. The Patriots won the coin toss and had the first crack at scoring in overtime. Their offense took the field, including Dan Delito. Eleven determined opponents would do everything in their power to stop him from scoring.
Alexis’s nails bit into her palms. In her imagination, the baby could wind up with no father at all.
After two minutes of play, however, New England drove the ball far enough downfield to try for a field goal. The field goal kicker kicked. The ball flew between the goalposts and the game was over. A sudden-death victory by three points.
Alexis went limp with relief. At this rate, she wouldn’t last through the season.
“Dan’s in the press box,” Nicky said a few minutes later.
She turned toward the jumbo screen to watch and listen.
“It was a tough, man-to-man game,” said Dan into the camera. “Miami is a great team.” He stood on the sidelines, helmet under his arm, microphone in his face.
“He looks good,” said Rita, eyes glued to the screen. “Dirt doesn’t count. He walked evenly, his eyes are focused….”
Seemed like Rita did her own play-by-play after each game.
Dan continued. “A tough contest—we’re all breathing hard—but it turned out right, at least for New England.” He grinned into the camera.
“What about that shotgun offense at the end of regulation?” asked the commentator.
“When it’s life or death, sometimes you can’t stick to the script. You’ve gotta rewrite it. That’s my job. In fact,” he said, “I’m going to do it again. Right now.”
He raised his helmet. “Here’s to Michelle and Ally, a couple of new fans.”
The announcer chuckled and thanked his guest. Dan waved at the camera again and trotted to the locker room.
Alexis sat openmouthed in the suite. Ally? What was that all about?
“You know something?” asked Rita. “I think his new fans are doing him a world of good.”
But at what cost to herself? Alexis looked at the crowd in the suite, then glanced back at the emptying field, her stomach cramping as all the changes in her life
crashed down on her simultaneously. Protecting Michelle. Quitting her job. Dealing with too many new people. Deciphering relationships. Rubbing shoulders with the NFL. Missing her conversations with Roz, the new friend who’d seen her through the worst time of her life. They’d never had that dinner….
Scariest of all for Alexis, however, was finding herself attracted to Michelle’s dad, a man who still yearned for his late wife. A man whose only interest now was his daughter.
G
ULPING FROM HIS
water bottle, Dan walked out of the locker room into the night an hour after game’s end, knowing he’d be soaking his sore muscles in his home spa later on. The entire team would be back on the field by noon tomorrow to start their weekly reconditioning process and to review videos of today’s game, especially the first half, when they’d trailed the Dolphins.
He peered ahead, trying to spot the limo, wondering where the normally reliable Louis was, while at the same time waving to fans who’d remained to greet him. A lot of fans. It seemed like hundreds.