Duncan nods and takes my hand, his fingers giving me the strength I need. I still haven't told him, after the craziness of the past few days, and I don't know when I am going to find the time. I need to do it soon, that's for sure. Duncan deserves to know the truth.
"You know, Coach, that sounds great. Who have you got in mind?"
"The man who's responsible for us getting the number nine pick," the coach says, grinning. "In fact, I think you two know each other already."
A player comes out, and while he's a bit shorter than Duncan, about six-two, he's just as big, but perhaps a bit thicker through the chest and back, with blond hair and blue eyes. He's ripped, and I wonder how this Nordic-looking Superman knows my Duncan.
"Well, we've run into each other a time or two," the man says, extending his hand. "Four years ago, Western versus Clement? It's nice to meet you again, Troy Wood."
It makes sense now. The guy who got traded to the Wildcats along with the draft pick that Jacksonville used for Duncan. Duncan, on his part, is beaming. "Yeah, I remember that beating. Glad to be working with you instead of against you."
"At least until next year's Western-Clement game, right?" Troy says with a laugh. "Come on, I'd like to show you my home. My wife is excited—she's spent the past two days trying to figure out how to entertain you. When we heard you were bringing a lady with you, well, she and my daughter are ecstatic. You must be Carrie Mittel. Sorry for the slow greeting. Our scout told me some of the stories he heard about what you did to help Duncan rehab that elbow. If even half of them are true, I think some of the team's going to be coming to you for help this summer."
"I've still got a year of school left," I counter, but his kind words help me feel good. "So Troy, you've got a daughter?"
"A daughter and a son, actually. You can meet them both at the house. Come on, and I hope you don't mind riding in a regular car. I heard you like motorcycles, Duncan?"
"I did. I guess I do, but I was thinking I should give that up,” Duncan says. "It's a lot better for taking Carrie out on dates."
Troy nods and holds the door open like a gentleman for us both. "And better for your career."
For a superstar linebacker, Troy Wood's house is remarkably understated, even if it is bigger than what I'd grown up in. A four-bedroom house, it's been done tastefully if rather . . . normally, I guess is the best way to put it. If you upgraded the size of my parents’ house, you'd have Troy Wood's.
Whitney Wood, on the other hand, is anything but normal, with long brown hair and a great smile that immediately puts me at ease. "It's good to meet you," she says while the guys go off wandering into the back yard. Troy's taken his daughter, Laurie, with him, and she's already been hanging on Duncan, begging him for a horsey ride. Duncan sweeps Laurie off her feet and deposits the nearly seven-year-old on his shoulders, much to the girl's delight, while Whitney and I have a seat on the screened in porch. On the floor between us is Travis, Whitney and Troy's infant son.
"Thanks. It's great that you two are being so kind."
"Trust me, it's going to be nice having some more players our age around. Most of the young guys, the rookies and such, they're on the wild side. But your Duncan, he's shown a change of heart recently. Troy appreciates that."
"I bet. But Whitney, before you get any ideas, Duncan and I . . . we're not married, or even engaged. We've just been dating for a few months."
"And in those few months, he went from a major player to a decent guy. Trust me, I did my research. It pays, in my line of work."
"What is that, by the way? I'm still getting my head wrapped around Duncan being a Wildcat."
"I'm an art dealer, actually," Whitney says with a touch of pride. It explains so much. Her touch around the house is now evident, as perhaps the one extravagance the house has is an amazing selection of artwork, something in nearly every room. "I guess you'll hear the story eventually, but Troy and I . . . well, it's a long story, but we only got married about a year ago now. After his first half-season with Jacksonville."
"Really? The way he and Laurie get along, I thought you'd been married since she was born."
Whitney sits back and sips at her iced tea, which she'd brought out for both of us. "No, I actually got pregnant with Laurie back in high school. Troy was my first, and I had Laurie in Europe. Troy and I didn't see each other until Laurie was five, and he didn't know Laurie was his daughter for a while after that. Remind me some time, and I'll tell you the whole tale."
I nod, distracted as I think about my own current condition. Whitney notices and clears her throat. "You okay, Carrie? My best friend is a psychologist, and being in imports and exports, you tend to get a handle on people. You've been looking, well, I guess the best way to say it is preoccupied since you came in."