“Didn’t know I was going to have to clean up after my dad,” Tyler said sullenly. “I did my stuff earlier. I had my run early this morning with the guys and got soaked through. I’m a big sweater.”
“Yeah, me too. But we have a lot more skin than most people.”
“I guess.”
He turned the machine on, leaned against the wall, and then abruptly started to sob.
Decker let him do so for a bit before saying, “Can I get you anything, Tyler?”
“N-no.” Tyler wiped his face, composed himself, and suddenly eyed Decker’s large frame. “You look like you might’ve played some ball.”
“Ohio State. And the NFL, for the briefest of times. I was a walk-on with the Browns.”
“The Ohio State University already offered me a scholarship. And I’ve got three other offers.”
“Great school. Great program. Where else?”
“Alabama, Georgia, and Stanford.”
“The best of the best. You want to play in the NFL?”
He shook his head. “I’m not at that level and never will be.”
“Most young men your age wouldn’t be able to make that sort of frank self-assessment. They usually think they’re good enough.”
“I’ve been making frank assessments all my life. I want to go into business. Silicon Valley. That’s where a lot of cool stuff is happening.”
“Well, they’re all great schools, but Stanford is right where you want to end up. And they play a pro-style offense. So as a tight end, you’ll get a lot of throws your way.”
Tyler looked intrigued. “How’d you know I played tight end?”
“You’ve got the build, the height, and your hands have calluses and abrasions all over them, especially the palms and the fingertips.”
“I could be a QB.”
“QBs throw the ball, they don’t catch it. You get that level of toughened skin from frequent high-velocity impacts with the pigskin.”
“Wide receiver, then.”
“You’re too beefy to play wideout. Those guys are slim with lightning in their shoes. And a high school coach would never waste a guy your size on that position. You could play any slot on the line with your beef. And they’d use you as an extra lineman on running plays.”
“Yeah, I pretty much do exactly that. What position did you play in college?”
“OLB,” said Decker, referring to outside linebacker.
“You’re big for that.”
“I’ve put on weight since then, but I had decent wheels. They tried me on the D-line, but even back then those boys were all three-twenty plus. And I wasn’t athletic enough to hold my own at two-sixty against O-lines where the tackles made me look like a middle schooler. OSU plays in the big leagues and the NFL is another planet. With the Browns I did most of my field time on special teams. I was never going to be a starter.”
“Guys we play against in high school are running four-threes like it’s nothing.”
White said, “Well, not to put a stop to the shop talk, guys, but…？”
They turned to see her standing a few feet from them.
Decker glanced at her and said to Tyler, “You want to talk here or somewhere else?”
“How about the beach?”
White hiked her eyebrows at Decker. “You mean out on all that sand?” she said.
“Fine,” said Decker. “Why don’t you wait here, Agent White? And let them know where we went.”
White was about to protest, but then she glanced at Tyler and slowly nodded. “Sure, I can let you footballers have some alone time.”
The two big men walked off, leaving White to sit down in a chair and wait, her lips pursed and her gaze hanging on Decker’s broad back.
Chapter 11
I’M…UM, I’M SORRY ABOUT your mother,” said Decker as they reached the sand and headed south. Decker had taken off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. Tyler had slipped off his flip-flops and was carrying them. Decker was awkward at social encounters like this. As a young man, before his brain injury, he could be empathetic and consoling and even glib. Now, on the other side of his near-death experience, he was none of those things.
“I think I’m gonna wake up and she’ll be there waving at me.”
“I can understand that. So, when was the last time you actually saw your mother?”
“I stayed with her last week, this week I’m with my dad.”
“Tough going back and forth?”