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The Raptors would also go into this almost-double header with a six-and-three record and a two-game, on-the-road winning streak behind them. Scott’s stats had improved all season long. He and the team were peaking at exactly the right moment, if they could only hold onto the momentum.
The only downside, aside from having to play on Thanksgiving, was how long it had been since their bye week, or so Scott had lamented to Abby.
“I’m going to need all ten days after Thanksgiving to rest up.”
It would be a weird year, too, because Dylan’s custody-mandated holiday in New York would fall right in the middle of their court battle. Though Lindsay had cancelled the last two times his visit had fallen on Thanksgiving, even Scott had to admit it wouldn’t make the best impression for her to do so again this year.
So, Abby would go to the game alone, sit beside Kelly, who had fast become a good friend, and hope like crazy Scott could bring home two wins in a row. Nine-and-three would make for a great start to December.
That had been the plan, anyway. Then, a week before Thanksgiving, Cara called her. “Don’t look at Hooper’s latest article, hon.”
“What, why?” Against Cara’s advice, she popped open her laptop.
“I mean it, Abby. At least call Scott before you do. It’shisfault, anyway.”
Abby’s palms went slick with sweat as anxiety curled a tight knot through her stomach. “What’s going on?”
She tapped the keys to bring upThe Charleston Herald’smain page, then clicked on the Sports section.
“You’re already reading it, aren’t you?” Her friend’s sigh of resignation echoed through the line. “It’s talk.Idletalk. It doesn’t mean anything. Everyone knows Zack Hooper is a hack.”
But she didn’t hang up.
Abby’s eyes flitted over the first few headlines, then caught on the wordfootball.
FOOTBALL FLOOSIE’S TRUE COLORS SHOW
Gold-Digger Girlfriend of Local Hero Quarterback Doesn’t Bleed Black and Silver
Hometown hero and Raptors Quarterback Scott Edwards has had, like most pro football players, his fair share of off-field romances, but the glitter is off his current one to local girl, Abby Barclay, after it leaked she is unemployed and has been for the last three years.
“Is he serious?” Reading farther, her mouth fell open.
“Lies,” Cara hissed.
“Well, I mean, technically, yes, but my work with Gen is only part-time,” Abby replied, forcing a deep breath into her constricted lungs. “It’s nice that Activities hired us, but it’s not like I have benefits or whatever. And they have no way of knowing with Will’s life insurance I’m fine.”
Ignoring Cara’s sputtering, she continued reading until she got about half-way through the article. “Mentally unstable,” she screeched, then, realizing she did sound that way, tamped down her reaction and reread…
After battling depression in the wake of her husband’s death, sources close to Ms. Barclay suggest her trauma has not fully resolved and she may be ‘a ticking timebomb,’ as evidenced by her recent mental breakdown during the Raptors game against the Detroit Lions a few weeks ago.
“Right? Ridiculous,” Cara scoffed. “I can’t for the life of me figure out who would say something like that about you, never mind in an interview. There’s no one who doesn’t love you.”
Abby could think of a few people, right off the top of her head, who didn’t love her, but she figured it wouldn’t help to say so.
“Anyway, that’s all the important stuff,” Cara said. “The rest of the article is nothing but speculation about the Raptor’s season. Not even good speculation, either, because they’re doing so well lately. You should call Scott, though. Like I said, it’s his fault. Maybe one of his teammates said something.”
“I doubt it.” Abby paused, chewing her lip. “There’s nothing in this that’s outright wrong, except the specifics of my employment status, and maybe my current mental health, and who knows? ‘Sources close?’ It could be a janitor, a former patient, anyone.”
“You know,” Cara observed with a hint of steel in her voice, “it wasn’t long ago you were scared to death of this exact thing happening. Waking up one morning and being all over the internet because of Scott.”
A soft, delicate smile turned the corners of Abby’s lips upwards. “Yeah, I guess so.”
The wind stripped from her sails, Cara sighed. “You love this guy?”
“I do.”
Her voice hardened again. “Then tell him to fix this mess.”