The Journey Collection (17 page)

“Ha, facemasking, not Kung Fu fighting!” Max smirked.

“That’s just what they want you to believe,” Travis disagreed. “I know the truth.”

Max sighed. “You can be so weird sometimes.”

“I know,” Travis said.

Once the referees had pushed the Broncos back fifteen yards, the fourth and final quarter started. The tension filling the Darrell K. Royal Texas Memorial Stadium was thick and palpable. While Travis didn’t know what winning the state title would mean to the people from Seymour, for the folks from Clarendon it meant watching their children be rewarded for working every day to achieve their hopes and dreams.

“Do you think they can do it?” Penelope asked.

Travis looked over at her. “Yeah, I do.”

“Me, too.” She smiled. “They have heart.”

Cody brought his team up to the line of scrimmage. A second later, the center snapped the ball. Cody took three steps, brought his arm back, and threw the ball. At first, it didn’t look like his receiver was there, but just as the football was spiraling downward, Andy found his spot, and it glided into his hands. He was brought down right away, but they’d gained enough yards for the first down.

Rallying his team, Cody lined up for the next play. This time when the ball was snapped, he faked a left lateral toss, spun around, and took off running to the right. A defenseman was coming right at him, but before Cody could be taken down, Trey came out of nowhere and blocked the Panther.

“Yes!” Travis screamed, standing up. “Nice hit!”

Cody managed to run for ten more yards before being driven out of bounds. Penelope reached up and placed her hand on Travis’s arm, coaxing him back into his seat.

He laughed. “Did you see that? That’s how you block!”

“I did,” she giggled. “I heard it, too. Based on the look on his momma’s face, I don’t think she much enjoyed the sound of his helmet colliding with number thirty-four’s.”

Travis looked over his shoulder at Laura Williams. She was standing next to her husband with wide, fearful eyes and her hands over her mouth. Tyler Williams had his arm around her and, from Travis’s viewpoint, appeared to be attempting to soothe her rattled nerves.

“It’s easy for a guy to be proud of the hard hits,” Penelope explained. “But as a mom, they’re terrifying. The wrong angle, and everything changes.”

Travis took a deep breath and looked over at her. “I know. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re a jock; you’re not supposed to be thinking,” she snickered before she gestured to the field. “Thankfully Trey is not hurt, but I can just imagine how scary that must have been for her.”

Travis shifted his attention to Max, who was jumping up and down. “Me, too.”

With a first down, the Broncos once again set up on the line of scrimmage. Cody tossed the ball over to Andy, who ran it up the middle, picking up three yards. For the next three minutes, the Broncos worked their way down the field, picking up two first downs and inching toward the goal line.

The Panthers, however, weren’t going to make it easy for them. While they battled for each inch of ground, the time on the clock wound down: three minutes, two, and then one. With thirty seconds on the clock, Cody took the snap and threw the ball down field. Travis, Penelope, Russ, Max, Nadine, and everyone around them scrambled to their feet and held their breath while the ball soared into Andy’s hands — Andy who was standing in the end-zone.

“Yes!” Travis shouted, wrapping his arms around Penelope and spinning her around.

“It’s not over yet, boy,” Russ hollered. “They have to make the extra point to even push the game into overtime.”

“No,” Travis laughed. “They have to go for the two-point conversion. Those boys don’t have another quarter in them. It’s now or never.”

“Two points.” Russ shook his head and whistled. “That’s pretty risky.”

Travis looked at him, smiling. “If the championship game isn’t the time to take risks, then when is?”

“You’re right,” Russ agreed. “This is it.”

Placing one hand on Penelope’s back and the other on Max’s shoulder, Travis watched while the team lined up for the extra point. Cody called for the snap and stumbled backward. He looked to his left, and then his right, but nobody was open. Tucking the ball against his chest, he took off to the right, dodging linemen. With a linebacker in the way, he spun to the left, found a gap, and fell over the goal line. The stadium was silent until the referees shoved both of their arms into the air, signaling that the two-point conversion was good.

The roar of the crowd was deafening while they yelled and screamed, cheering for the boys — no, the
men
— who’d led them to a state title. There were tears of joy and hugs between strangers. And when the Broncos lined up along the sidelines and pulled off their helmets, each and every one of them looked at Travis and nodded. Bringing one hand up to his chest, he returned the gesture.

Max climbed up onto the bench, wrapped his arms around Travis’s neck, and whispered, “Thanks, Dad.”

It had been a moment that Travis had hoped would come, but he hadn’t wanted to push him too hard over it. Max had begun to trust him not to leave and not to hurt his mother, but most of all, he had to trust his father to love him.

So in return, Travis returned his son’s hug and murmured, “No. Thank
you
for bringing me home.”

Penelope slipped her arms around the two of them, and Travis knew that they would embrace whatever new journey came their way — as a family.

***

The

Journey

to

Forever

***

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

***

Chapter One

New Beginnings

Travis McCoy stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, straightening his tie and trying in vain to get his hair to lay flat. His dark, curly locks didn’t want to cooperate, so he gave up. No point in fighting a losing battle, after all.

“I don’t understand why I can’t go with you.” At the sound of his son’s voice, Travis shifted his eyes up and looked at Max. The boy was sitting on the edge of the bed, balancing his football in his lap and glaring at the floor.

“I told you,” Travis said. “Mom and I are going on a date. You’ll have fun with Gramps. He’ll probably let you do whatever you want, like run with scissors and play with matches.”

“Yeah, I know.” Max shrugged his shoulders. “Are you nervous?”

Travis took a deep breath before he turned to face his son. “Yeah, I am.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Hopping off the bed, Max smiled. “She’ll say yes.”

“How can you be sure?” he asked. “It’s only been a few months.”

“But she’s loved you for, like, ever,” Max scoffed, rolling his mocha-brown eyes. “Dad, trust me on this one. I know women.”

“How do you know women?” It was Travis’s turn to scoff. “You’re not old enough to even
like
girls yet.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t like me. And that’s not the point,” Max stated. “Women like Mom don’t fall in and out of love. They’re in it till the end. Just woo her; make her feel pretty.”

Travis stood there, staring at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my son?”

Max rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “Yeah, real funny, Dad.”

Travis laughed before sitting on the side of the bed and opening the drawer of his nightstand. Lifting the small, black velvet box out, he placed it in the palm of his trembling hand. Tonight, he planned to propose to the woman who had owned his heart since he was Max’s age: Penelope Stone.

Just the thought of her made him smile. It’d been five months since he’d found her again, found their son, and found where his future rested. The journey hadn’t been easy for any of them. Travis had tried to deal with the pain of learning that he’d missed out on ten years of his son’s life while chasing after his dream of being a professional football player. While he had been one of those lucky few who’d found himself standing on the fifty-yard line with a hundred thousand screaming fans around him, Travis had been willing to give it all up for Max and Penelope. They were his future — his life.

Now he was ready to tie himself to them even more. He wanted Penelope to be his wife; he wanted to slide his ring onto her finger and promise to always love her — just her.

Of course, Travis had talked to Max about marrying Penelope first. Max had been the main man in her life for the past ten years, and Travis wouldn’t disregard his feelings — not when their son’s opinion mattered so much to both of them. In order to get their son to himself, Travis had told Penelope that he was taking Max to Amarillo to watch a movie and have a little male bonding time, which they had done. First, however, Travis had taken Max out to lunch at his favorite restaurant, all in an effort to butter up the kid.

“Max, I need to talk to you about something,” Travis started. Even though he tried to keep his voice calm and even, it broke at the end.

Max put down his burger and looked up at him. “You look like you’re going to puke,” he commented.

Travis laughed. “Kind of feel like it. Listen, you know I love you and Mom, right?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious with the way you keep sucking her face.”

“Right,” Travis said, noting the sarcasm in his son’s voice. “Okay, here goes. I want to ask Mom to marry me, but I need your permission first. So, do I have it?”

Max leaned back in his chair and folded his arms in front of him. “Well, I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“Huh?” Travis asked. “Um, your mom’s happiness?”

“No, seriously. If I say yes, what do I get?” Max stared at his father.

“You’re serious?” He whistled under his breath when the boy nodded. “Um, okay, what do you want?”

“Hmm,” Max hummed, bringing his finger up to his lips as he mulled it over. “You got me a new bike for Christmas, and Mom would freak out if you let me get a dog. So, how about we settle on cold, hard cash and call it good?”

At the time Travis had been so nervous that he’d quickly agreed, but later he realized just how disturbing it was that Max would extort money from him. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Max had given him his blessing, and that was all Travis needed. Now, with a simple, princess-cut, diamond solitaire ring in his hand, he was ready to take the next step with Penelope.

Shoving the box into his pocket, he gave himself one more look in the mirror before he grabbed his keys and wallet off the dresser. Walking through the living room, he ignored the catcalls from Russ, Nadine, and Max. Those three were the worst influences on each other, but he could never find it in himself to be upset with any of them. They were family, and teasing from family was normal — at least that’s what Travis told himself.

Penelope was in the kitchen when he walked in. The sight of her in a tiny, silk, black cocktail dress made him breathless. She’d always been beautiful, but tonight she was stunning. With her long, silky, blond hair pulled up into an elegant French twist, Travis had to fight the urge to kiss the back of her neck and slide his fingers under the hem of her dress. The sound of Max burping in the living room brought him back to reality.

“What are you doing?” Travis asked when Penelope took three bowls out of the cabinet. He walked across the room, pulling them out of her hands.

“I was about to dish out this mac and cheese for your father, Nadine, and Max,” she explained while she grabbed at them, but he held them out of her reach and slid his arm around her waist. “Travis!”

“Baby, you are not going to serve them dinner before we go out. My father can come in here and do it.” Travis didn’t give her a chance to argue with him as he spun her away from the counter and out of the kitchen. He looked over her shoulder at Russ. “Yo, old man, go fill these bowls.”

“Travis!” Penelope exclaimed, laughing.

“What?” he asked. “He
is
old.”

“I am not old,” Russ groused and stood up. His knee popped. “On second thought, maybe I am, but I can still take you over my knee, boy.”

“Just not that one,” Travis snickered. Walking over to Russ, he shoved the bowls into the other man’s hand. “My beautiful date has already been gracious enough to make you dinner. Please make sure you — and
not
Nadine — clean up the mess.”

“Penelope Stone!” Nadine scolded as she joined them. “I told you not to bother with dinner. It’s not like I would have let them starve.”

“I know, but — well, Max begged me,” Penelope said.

“I did not!” Max insisted, though one look at him and Travis could tell the boy was lying.

“Yeah, whatever, little man.” He shook his head. “Be good for Gramps and Nadine. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Max mumbled before turning back to his video game.

Travis sighed and looked over at Russ. “Be good for Nadine, Dad. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Russ folded his arms in front of him and pouted.

Placing his hand on the small of Penelope’s back, Travis led her out of the house, down the front steps, and to the curb where his black 1966 Pontiac GTO was parked. He had spent all afternoon polishing up “Bertha” — his loving nickname for the car — and making sure she was in pristine condition.

Penelope smiled and looked over at him. “Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve ridden inside her. The Fourth of July, just after graduation?”

“The night of the party out at the lake.” Travis slid his hands down to her hips. “Of course, I think we spent most of the night in the backseat.”

“Yeah, we did,” she murmured. “That was the night Max was conceived.”

“I know,” Travis said. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Dates and timelines. His birthday is in April; it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“The best night of my life,” Penelope whispered. Sighing, she looked back at Bertha. “How’s she run?”

“Why don’t you climb in and find out?” Travis opened the door for her. “Are you in?”

“Always.” She slid into the seat, tucking her dress under her.

Travis was careful not to slam the door on her leg. Running around the front of the car, he climbed in behind the wheel, pushed the key into the ignition, and started Bertha up. Penelope squealed when the car rumbled to life. Shifting into drive, Travis pulled away from the curb and set off down the road. A few minutes later, he parked in front of the high school gymnasium.

“What are we doing here?” Penelope asked, shifting her eyes to him.

“It’s a surprise.” He smirked and climbed out of the car, walking around to open her door and help her out. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” she murmured. Travis held Penelope’s hand and led her inside.

Watching her, Travis felt his heart swell while she looked around the gymnasium with a smile on her face. While he had been tending to Bertha, Russ, Nadine, and Max had made sure the gym was perfect for tonight. There was baby-pink, buttercream-yellow, and cornflower-blue crepe paper draped over every available surface, and at least a hundred matching balloons were scattered across the floor. Tea light candles and twinkling Christmas lights provided a sparkling glow and enhanced the romantic feel of the room. Travis had rigged the sound system to play music he’d selected earlier, and in the middle of the court was a small table covered with a white table cloth.

“I don’t know what to say.” Penelope breathed. “Why did you do this? I assumed that we were going to Amarillo for dinner.”

“This is where we started,” Travis said, leading her over to the table and pulling out her chair.

“Thank you.” Penelope sat down. She waited until Travis had taken his seat before she added, “What do you mean, this is where we started?”

“When we were freshmen, I somehow gathered the nerve to ask the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen to the spring dance. For some unknown reason, you said yes.”

“Unknown?” she scoffed. “You were my world, Travis. I’d had a crush on you since we were in the third grade.”

“No way,” he laughed, but Penelope nodded. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Oh, come on!” she exclaimed. “You were the popular boy, and I was the shy, quiet girl who liked to read. For some reason, you chose me to be your friend. I wasn’t about to ruin that by telling you how I felt. And I didn’t have to, did I? Because you manned up and asked me out. You brought me to this place, and we danced. When the other girls tried to cut in, you —”

“I told them no, because you were my girl,” Travis whispered, interrupting her. “You’ve always been my girl, Penelope. Even when I was too stupid to admit it to myself.”

Penelope nodded and wiped her tears off her face. “Even though I thought I’d never see you again, I never stopped loving you, Travis. How could I, when I saw pieces of you in Max every day?”

“If I could go back . . ,” Travis shook his head, blowing out a heavy breath, “I wouldn’t have let you go; I would have fought harder for you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to fight for me, love, because I was yours.” Penelope grabbed his hand. “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

He nodded and brought her hand up to his lips. “Where I’m supposed to be.”

“Now, what’s for dinner?” she asked. “I’m starving.”

“Your favorite.” Travis reached over and uncovered her plate. “Pizza!”

“Yay!” she cheered, clapping her hands. “And pepperoni, too!”

“Only the best for you,” he snickered.

Penelope laid her napkin in her lap before she picked up a giant slice and took a bite. “Damn, this is good,” she moaned around her mouthful of food.

“Do you remember?” Travis asked.

Her brow crinkled. “Remember what?”

He smiled and reached under the table, pulling out a white, cardboard box.

Penelope gasped. “How? Pete’s went out of business years ago!”

Pete’s Pizzeria had been “the place to be” back when Penelope and Travis were in high school. The owner, Pete Stanley, served the best pizzas in the area. The crust was thin but not crispy, and the sauce was tangy. Travis and Penelope had spent almost every Saturday night there. Pete’s had closed a couple of years after Travis left for the University of Texas to play football. Nobody knew for sure why Pete closed his doors; he’d just gotten tired and moved on.

“I made a few phone calls.” Travis smirked. “Turns out that Pete lives just outside of Dallas and has been yearning for a pair of tickets to the game against the Sharks. So we struck a deal.”

Penelope grinned and shook her head. “Well, aren’t you clever? Why do I feel like you’ve got something else planned?”

He laughed. “Maybe I do, but you won’t know until you finish eating.”

“Fine,” she sighed, picking up her pizza. “You are something else, Travis McCoy.”

“As are you, Ms. Stone.”
Soon to be Mrs. McCoy
, he thought.