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Chapter 6
November 1998
Later that Saturday
morning, Emma parked her Saab in the parking lot of the NCJW
and entered through the front door. She made her way in well-remembered
steps towards a large room in the rear.
She stood in the
doorway, looking around the room. She watched the women, some
three generations of the same family, move about as they did
their work. Emma recalled the times her mother, Ruth, brought
her and Irene with her as she did her volunteer work. She could
hear her voice, and she cheerfully did what she could to make
the world a better place. Emma could smell the same odors - disinfectant
and perfume and doughnuts and coffee.
An all-enveloping
sense of belonging engulfed her. It warmed her and chilled
her.
"Emma?"
asked Mrs. Rosen. "Are you here to work, dear?"
Emma opened her
eyes. "Yes. This is my place."
~*~*~
Emma and Chuck walked
slowly along the running path in Audubon Park on a bright, chilly
afternoon, neither looking at each other. Emma had spent several
days in contemplation and prayer, trying to decide what to do.
Her father's words
at breakfast after the horrendous dinner party had affected her
in ways she could not have predicted. They had touched something
deep inside, something her mother had planted in her heart years
ago. She had always taken her Jewish roots for granted before,
and now she faced a Rubicon of sorts. A choice had to be made.
And, as painful as it was, Emma felt she had chosen the right
one for her.
"I'm sorry,
Chuck… Oh my God, I'm sorry that I've hurt you… but
I have to do this."
"Emma, please,
I'm sorry about what happened at your house. I was an idiot."
"Chuck - no.
You have nothing to apologize for. There's nothing wrong with
you…"
"Then why are
you breaking up with me?"
"Because of
me, because of what I am. I've thought a long time about this,
and I've come to realize that being a Jew is very important to
me…"
"But what does
that have to do with anything? That wouldn't make any difference
to me!"
"It's not that
easy. You don't understand, Chuck. I've made the choice to only
date Jewish men. I want my…my husband to share my faith,
not just tolerate it."
"But Emma…"
"Let's sit
down." After they had seated themselves on a park bench,
Emma asked, "Chuck, when you think about who you are - what
you are - the principles that shaped you, the traditions you
hold dear - can you see yourself as anything but a Catholic?"
"Emma, I go
to Mass maybe twice a year."
"But you still
consider yourself Catholic, don't you?"
"Yes."
"It's the same
with me, only I've begun to feel the need to become more involved
in Judaism." She then spoke to Chuck about how she had been
reevaluating her life and what she wanted out of it. She tried
to have him see her dawning desire to fully embrace her faith.
How it was becoming part of her. With tears in her eyes, she
looked at him. "You've been such a good friend to me. I
don't want to lose that. Please say you understand."
Chuck put on a fake
smile and said all the right things, but inside he was torn up.
This is Jennifer all over again. Why? Why does this keep happening
to me? I try to be a good guy. But I keep getting shit on!
Emma reached for
him. "Chuck…"
He stood, Emma following
him. "Look, Emma, it didn't work out. I…I wish you
well. I hope you find happiness."
"Chuck, you're
too good…"
Yeah, I'm such
a nice guy - everybody says so. So how's that workin' out for
ya, Chuckie-boy? "See
you later, Emma." With that, Chuck walked back to the Tulane
campus, fighting his own tears and leaving a weeping Emma standing
alone in the autumn afternoon sun.
~*~*~
November 26 (AP)
- The Tulane Green Wave gave its fans an unforgettable Thanksgiving
present, walloping the Louisiana Tech Bulldogs 63 to 30 and going
undefeated for the first time in the school's history. The Wave,
by beating Houston the week before, guaranteed it would go to
the Liberty Bowl as Conference USA's champions to face the Western
Athletic Conference's BYU Cougars. But by going undefeated and
cracking the BCS Top Ten, there are those who would claim Tulane
deserved a shot at one of the bigger bowls…
December 2 (Times-Picayune)
- After months of speculation, the bad news fell on the Tulane
Football program today as Head Coach Tommy Bowden announced he
had accepted the head coaching job at Clemson University effective
immediately…
~*~*~
December, 1998
The practice room
was filled with the sound of voices accompanied by a lone piano.
"O come, O
come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel…"
The Loyola Christmas
Choir was practicing for the upcoming concert. Marianne Dashwood,
first alto, was trying to keep her mind on her singing, but was
preoccupied with thoughts of John Waguespack.
Mari was attracted
to the handsome and charming Tulane business student and enjoyed
being with him. He was fun and funny and attentive. However,
every time Mari would start contemplating taking their relationship
to another level, something would come up. Some drama
with Tommy. A weekend with his folks. Greg Wickham would pop
by.
Mari tried to be
nice to Greg, for John's sake. She knew he was the source for
John and Tommy's marijuana, and he seemed to be John's good friend.
Yet, there was something about Greg that made her uncomfortable;
she felt that he was watching her, all the time, like some beast
that everyone thought tame, but was not.
She worked hard
to banish such thoughts from her mind. It was her sheltered upbringing
in Jackson, Mississippi, she reasoned. Greg was a little strange,
but that was due to his drinking and smoking. Some guys like
to appear dangerous, she knew, but that didn't mean that they
were. He was probably a teddy-bear underneath. He was John's
friend - she should learn to get along with him…
But he scares
me…
The conductor cut
them off. "Come on, people! The concert's in two weeks!
Let's put some effort into it!"
Mari cleared her
mind of her thoughts and concentrated. The result was better
this time. Apparently, Mari wasn't the only member preoccupied.
"Okay, Mari,"
said the choir leader, "let's work on 'Rose.'"
Mari moved to the
front of the choir, and in her clear alto without accompaniment,
sweetly sang:
"Lo, how a
Rose e'er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming,
As men of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night."
The rest of the
choir joined in:
"Isaiah 'twas
foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind;
With Mary we behold it,
The virgin mother kind.
To show God's love aright,
She bore to men a Savior,
When half spent was the night…"
~*~*~
Elizabeth was late.
She hated being late.
But she was late
turning in her column. She supposed she should be easier on herself;
after all, final exams were next week, and she had been working
on two term papers.
She quickly entered
the offices of the VOICE, carrying the disc containing
her column, crossed over to Justin Middleton's desk and tossed
it in front of him. "Sorry I'm late," she began, only
then noticing he wasn't paying attention to her. "Justin?...
Earth to Justin…"
"One sec, Liz,"
he said, his face buried in his computer screen. "Ha! This
is great!"
Liz walked around
the desk. "What's great?"
"The House…
you know they're getting ready to impeach Clinton, right? Well,
it came out that Livingston, one of the GOP bastards that's leading
the charge, has had a bit on the side himself!"
"Livingston?
Bob Livingston - the representative from Louisiana?"
"Yeah, it looks
like Larry Flint's investigators found out that ol' Bob had an
affair a few years ago."
Lizzy read the report.
"This was over ten years ago…"
"So what? Wait
'till you see this." Justin switched screens. "Livingston's
quitting!"
"WHAT?"
"Yeah - says
he's gonna 'set an example' for Clinton and resign."
"But…
but… he was going to be the next Speaker of the House!"
"Serves the
bastard right."
Lizzy looked at
her editor. "Justin, no matter what you think about the
case against Clinton, you have to see that this is bad for Louisiana!
He was going to be Speaker, for God's sake! Do you know what
kind of jobs and investment that would have brought here?"
"Who gives
a shit?" Justin sneered. "I can't wait to wipe the
crap of this stinking place off my feet. Come May, when I get
my diploma, I'm outta here! I'm going to someplace civilized
- New York, Boston - someplace not populated by a bunch of inbreeds."
Lizzy held her temper
over her home being insulted - just barely. "Why did you
come here, then, anyway?"
"To party -
what did you think?"
Lizzy hid her grimace.
Glad we could have been of service.
"Anyway, the
House is still gonna impeach the President - just 'cause Willie
got a blow-job." Justin shook his head.
Lizzy knew Justin
wasn't quite right - the charge was lying to a grand jury. And
the married President did take advantage of an intern. And
there was the hypocritical fact that the Clinton supporters had
accepted the help of America's number one pornographer to do
opposition research on the President's adversaries. But it wouldn't
make any difference mentioning any of that to her editor. Lizzy
wasn't sure that Bill Clinton deserved to be thrown out of office
for what he had done, but even those that backed the man had
to realize that Clinton had done something wrong. Yet they were
willing to discard all their principles, lie to themselves, argue
what "sex" was, and challenge even the definition of
the word "is" to keep Bill Clinton in the White House.
She gestured at
the disc on his desk. "That's my column this week. I gotta
go - I've got some exams to study for."
"Right,"
Justin said absently as he pulled up another screen - this one
for a group called MoveOn.Org. "See ya."
Lizzy left the office,
an air of depression about her. Every time something seems
to go right for Louisiana, it blows up in our face.
~*~*~
Examinations over,
the great universities of New Orleans emptied out for the Christmas
season. Mostly emptied out, that is, for competitive athletics
do not stop for such things as holidays. For this is Sport, and
the people must be entertained, especially in football-crazy
South Louisiana.
The Sugar Bowl of
New Orleans, first played in 1935, is one of the oldest post-season
games in the history of inter-collegiate sports in America; only
the Rose and Orange Bowls are older. Other cities saw the money
that could be made by hosting such games, and throughout the
years, many tried. Television (and television advertising dollars)
brought a whole new emphasis to the games. The conferences sought
and secured alliances with the various sponsors. Conference USA
was quick to join with the Liberty Bowl, held on or about New
Years Eve in Memphis, Tennessee. Later the Western Athletic Conference,
or WAC, agreed to send its champion there as well.
The only WAC team
to be crowned National Champion of NCAA Football, the Brigham
Young University Cougars, in a bizarre way, helped diminish the
allure of these games. There were those, mostly sportswriters
of large cities, who could not bear the idea of any team outside
the "recognized national powers" winning such an honor.
Television agreed, and a devil's agreement was made. American
College Football would be divided into two classes: those that
could win a national championship and those that would not be
allowed to. These "haves" called themselves the Bowl
Championship Series, or BCS. Their games would be at the Rose,
Orange, Sugar and Fiesta Bowls. They and their allied conferences
would share in the millions of dollars generated. The "have-nots"
would be stuck on the outside looking in.
Only one thing went
wrong with this plan: The "have-nots" kept coming up
with extraordinary ball clubs. Fair-minded people across the
country kept asking why an undefeated Tulane or Boise State or
Fresno State should be kept out of the big games - and the big
money. Congress started to ask questions.
The BCS-ers became
scared. The gravy train was threatened. The so-called computer
models kept the controversy alive instead of stifling it. So
they kept promising to "change things" as time went
on. "We'll get it better next time," they kept saying.
So, at the end of
1998, the only place the undefeated tenth-ranked Tulane Green
Wave could play would be in Memphis against BYU, the same school
whose success years before had started the whole mess. Tulane
would play without its coach, and not many gave the Wave a chance.
~*~*~
Elizabeth Boudreaux,
sitting in the front passenger seat of Chris Breaux's truck on
a late December morning, turned to face her companions. "I
want to thank you guys again for coming to our rescue,"
she said.
"No prob, Lizzy,"
said Chris as he piloted the pickup northbound on Interstate
55. "We were glad to help out. Right, Will?"
"Don't make
such a big deal over it, Boudreaux," agreed Will Darcy from
the rear driver-side seat. "Mari's house in Jackson isn't
out of our way, and we're staying at the same hotel in Memphis.
Chris certainly has room in this tank. Glad to have you on board."
"Well, you
guys are certainly life-savers."
"Did John say
why he had to cancel?" asked Chris carefully.
"He said something
came up with his family. He was really sorry."
"How's Mari
taking it?"
Lizzy looked at
the others. "Just between us, not well. She almost canceled,
too. I would hate for her to miss this trip. Do me a favor and
don't bring it up, huh?"
Chris nodded. "Our
lips are sealed. All we'll talk about is football."
"Yeah you rite,"
smiled Lizzy.
Darcy grinned. "I
didn't know you were such a Tulane fan, Lizzy. It seems most
of the folks in bayou land are Tiger fans."
She turned around,
placing her arm along the seat back, eyes twinkling in mischief.
"It's my contrarian nature, I guess. Everybody pulled for
LSU back home, so I suppose I wanted to be different."
"So how come
you went to Loyola?" Will asked, mesmerized by those eyes.
Lizzy's smile faded
a bit and the twinkle went out. "Because they offered the
best scholarship."
"Oh - of course…"
William blanched. He knew he stepped into it. Lizzy turned around,
facing the windshield, so she didn't see how Darcy's shame showed
on his face.
"Way to go,
Will," scolded Chris. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything,
Lizzy. Did you, Will?"
Darcy overcame his
mortification enough to utter, "Elizabeth, I'm sorry…
I didn't mean anything disparaging about Loyola, believe me."
Elizabeth paused
before she turned again. "It's okay, Darcy. Let's just have
a good time." She turned to Chris. "Can I turn on the
radio?"
Will thought to
himself it would be best just to keep his mouth shut. He wondered
why it bothered him so much if Elizabeth disapproved of him.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth
returned to watching the country-side roll by. She forgave William
- kinda - but it was another indication of the difference between
them. I didn't have all the money in the world to go to any
school I liked, Will. Rich guys like you will never understand.
Too bad - he's
really cute.
~*~*~
John Waguespack
was not sitting at home during the week between Christmas and
New Year's. But instead of heading north on I-55, he was driving
south on US 90 towards the coast. Greg Wickham had wanted John
to pick up a package in Intercoastal City, but he didn't know
when it would get there. So John's job was to sit around a third-rate
no-tell motel over the New Year holiday and await a call on his
cell phone.
John had no illusions
about what was in this package. He knew he was getting in too
deep, but he needed the money. Things were tight until Tommy
could return from rehab and pay his share of the rent again -
if Tommy returned. There was no way he could go to his
family for cash - that door was closed.
This was the weekend
he was going to finally connect with Mari. They had fooled around
a bit before, and she was ready - but leave it to Greg
to screw everything up.
If it wasn't
for the money! he raged.
Greg is gonna owe me big time for this!
~*~*~
New Orleans has
Bourbon Street. Los Angeles has Rodeo Drive. Las Vegas has The
Strip. Many cities have that street that identifies them, and
Memphis is no different. Theirs is Beale Street.
An act of Congress
declared it the "Home of the Blues." The accuracy of
such a designation might be in doubt, but there is no argument
that it is the entertainment capital of Memphis. Over thirty
nightclubs, pubs and restaurants attract people from all over
the world to hear the Memphis Blues played by masters of the
art. No tourist could fail to go there - it would be like missing
Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley, which is also in River
City.
The best way to
take in this cultural icon is to stroll slowly along the avenue,
taking in the music emitting from the clubs. Unfortunately, Beale
Street was not designed for the kind of cold weather that late
December 1998 had brought. Temperatures in the thirties with
high humidity and wind gusts of twenty miles per hour would chill
the hardiest Yankee or Mountain Man, much less a contingent of
Cajuns from Louisiana.
But at least the
clubs weren't crowded. The BYU fans, the "Saints",
were not a partying bunch. True to their Mormon faith, they rejected
alcohol, tobacco and caffeine. There was no rule against going
to nightclubs that served such things, but many felt uncomfortable.
That left the place for the Tulane fans and the locals, and they
made the best of it. What they lacked in numbers they made up
for in consumption. The purveyors were not unhappy.
Lizzy and Mari caught
a ride with the guys to join up with their friends. It wasn't
long before the group of AIs and hangers-on were ensconced in
a corner booth waiting for the band to come back from a break.
"Where's Emma?"
asked a flushed Chuck Bingley.
"Oh, she stayed
home," answered Lizzy, surprised at the question. She knew
Emma would have been uncomfortable, thinking Chuck was still
hurting.
"She should
have come - she's missing a great time," Chuck responded.
"She's not - she didn't stay away 'cause of me, did she?"
"No, no,"
Mari lied. "She doesn't like the cold - she's a Superdome
kind-of-girl."
"Good, 'cause
I'm okay with her. She's a friend. You tell her that, okay?"
"Sure will,
Chuck."
The band started
up, egging on the Tulane faithful, and the group was soon on
the floor, Mari with Chuck, and Lizzy found herself with Darcy.
"Every time
I go to a dance, I end up with you. How is that?" she shouted
over the music.
"Unlucky, I
guess." Will grinned. He didn't feel unlucky.
~*~*~
Memphis' Liberty
Bowl is a beautiful stadium, half-set into the ground. It does
not appear very large as people approach it, and they are pleasantly
surprised at the size of the place once they take their seats.
Mari and Lizzy rode
to the game with Chris and Will and met up with their friends
outside the gate. Entering the stadium, they passed by the concession
stands selling food, drinks and souvenirs to the faithful. The
group grabbed some burgers, and Lizzy looked at the items nearby.
"Oh, look!
They've got Riptide beanies babies for sale!" she laughed.
"Really?"
asked Will. Sure enough, there were small stuffed reproductions
of the Tulane pelican mascot. "Hey, fella, give me one of
those."
"Something
to keep you warm, Darcy?" Lizzy teased.
He smirked. "On
second thought, make that two." Paying the man, he turned
to Elizabeth. "For your information, Boudreaux, this is
for my sister, Gina, at home."
"Right - so
what's the other one for?"
He tossed it to
her.
"Darcy! I can't
accept this!"
"Sure you can,"
he said over his shoulder as he joined the others.
Lizzy looked at
the Riptide doll in her hand, surprised. Why would he buy
me something? She shrugged, carefully placed the beanie in
her purse, and ran to catch up.
The field at Liberty
Bowl is lined up north-south, with the home stands oriented on
the south side of the field; therefore the visitors' stands are
usually in full sunlight, while the walls keep the home side
in shadow. This is usually an advantage to the home team during
the hot summer and fall in Memphis, but winters can be frigid
in River City, as it was this New Year's Eve in 1998. Tulane
knew all about the idiosyncrasies of the stadium - their C-USA
rival, the University of Memphis, played their games in the place.
Therefore, Tulane selected the visitor's side for themselves
and their fans. It was a wise choice - the temperature was easily
ten degrees warmer on the Louisiana side of the field that sunny
early afternoon than it was for their Utah opponents. Still,
artic gear was de rigueur for the fans in the stands.
Will's cell phone
rang. "Hey, Dad - you made it."
"Yep. Cold
enough for you, Son?"
"Aww…
why don't you join us here in the stands like a real fan, Dad?"
"Not me.
There's a reason I worked so hard and made my money - so I can
watch football games from suites with their own bar and restrooms."
"I heard that.
Still, I wanted to watch this game with my buds. Your flight
was okay?"
Mr. Darcy had taken
the DGS jet to Memphis. "Smooth as silk. Got in this
morning and checked into the Peabody."
"I take it
Gina didn't change her mind and come along."
"No - she
wanted to go to a girlfriend's house for New Year's Day. Hey
- why don't you join me for an early dinner tonight?"
"Sure, but
I'm here with Chris and some other friends. Can I bring them?"
"Of course.
Make sure that brunette next to you comes, too. She's a looker."
"What?"
He looked at Lizzy, seated next to him. "You can see me?"
There was laughter
over the connection. "These Nikon binoculars you got
me for my last birthday are good for more things than bird watching."
"Oh, boy. I
guess I better behave myself."
"Enjoy yourself,
Son." They ended
their conversation.
The thirty-five
thousand chilly people in attendance watched as the National-televised
game began. Tulane started slowly, and some were concerned that
the new coach, Chris Scelfo, wasn't using the team as Tommy Bowden
would. BYU scored on its second possession, but missed the extra
point. The confidant Cougars trotted off the field, not knowing
what was in store for them. It was the last time they would see
the inside of their opponent's twenty-yard line until the fourth
quarter.
Tulane came back,
scoring a thirty-one yard field goal. Then, like lighting, everything
changed. Tulane intercepted a BYU pass and ran it back seventy-nine
yards for the score. In the second quarter, Quarterback Shaun
King would score on a running play and the Wave would get yet
another field goal. Halftime score was 20-6.
Things went from
bad to worse for the Cougars in the third quarter. King lit it
up, connecting with his receivers and scoring two quick touchdowns.
By the time BYU could string together a scoring drive early in
the fourth quarter, the proud Saints from Provo were down 34-13.
Tulane then proceeded to march down the field again, this time
with running back Tony Converse helping King run the ball - both
would end with more than one hundred yards rushing. Converse
punched it in, and the Wave coasted as BYU scored fourteen meaningless
points against second and third-teamers.
The final score,
Tulane 41, BYU 27, would be one of the worst defeats in the illustrious
career of legionary Cougar head coach LaVell Edwards. Tulane
would end this perfect 12-0 season ranked Number Seven in the
nation and Shaun King, a Heisman finalist, would be drafted in
the first round in the NFL Draft.
~*~*~
The Tulane students
and other fans were going nuts during the final moments, after
the failed onsides kick by BYU. The team carried the Liberty
Bell trophy to their fellow students, sharing the glory with
them. Lizzy was jumping and screaming and hugging everybody in
sight, and she was sure William gave her a kiss during the melee.
Renditions of the Alma Mater and Fight Song were performed, and
with a final Hullabaloo, the crowd filed out of the stands into
the cold December evening.
"GREEN WAVE,
GREEN WAVE, HATS OFF TO THEE!
FIGHT - FIGHT - FIGHT FOR OUR VICTORY!
SHOUT TO THE SKIES
OUR GREEN WAVE WAR CRIES
THE BRAVEST WE'LL DEFY!
HOLD THAT LINE FOR OLIVE AND BLUE,
WE WILL CHEER FOR YOU!
SO FIGHT!! FIGHT, OLD TULANE
FIGHT ON TO VIC-TO-RY!!"
The AIs were laughing
and singing at the top of their lungs.
"TWELVE AND
O! TWELVE AND O! TWELVE AND O!" they kept chanting. In the
bitter cold of a Western Tennessee December evening, life was
very good.
Darcy barely heard
his cell phone ring. "Hello?!?"
"William,
can you hear me?"
He could barely make out his father's voice over the noise.
"Dad!!! How
'bout that game! Yahoo!!!"
"Yes, Son,
it was great. William, I need you to listen to me."
Ice water flooded
Will's insides. The last time his father called him "William"
was when his mother died. "Dad, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I need
you to meet me at the VIP gate right away."
"Why? What's
up?"
"No time.
Hurry, Son."
"Yes, sir."
Hanging up the phone, he reached out and grabbed Chris' shoulder.
"Chris, my dad just called. He wants to me to meet up with
him."
"Should we
wait for you?" Chris asked.
"No - you go
on ahead."
Mari was next to
Chris. "Aren't you coming out with us?"
I don't know! "Yeah, maybe… we'll see.
See ya." Darcy turned on his heels and moved as quickly
as he could through the crowd.
Chris watched him
leave, puzzled at his friend's expression, when he was jostled.
"Hey!" cried an excited Lizzy. "Where's Darcy?
We gotta party!"
Mari answered, "He
just left."
"Left? Where'd
he go?"
Chris, not knowing
how to answer, decided not to ruin anyone's night. "His
dad just called, and Will went to meet up with him."
"You mean he
ditched us for his father?"
Chris shrugged and
Mari rolled her eyes.
Lizzy snorted. "His
loss! Come on, we gotta paint this town Green and Blue!"
~*~*~
William dashed into
his motel room to gather his belonging. He had only a few minutes.
He had tried to call Chris, but he wasn't answering his cell
phone. Throwing all his gear into his duffle bag, he had time
to pen a short note:
Chris,
I've got to get
back to New Orleans. Family business. I'll call. Have fun, and
I'll see you in town.
Will
Will looked at the
note, but didn't like it. He reached for the pen again.
"William!"
cried his father, "let's go!"
"Just one more
minute, Dad!"
"No time! Now!"
William placed the
note on the dresser, grabbed his duffle and walked quickly to
the waiting limo. The driver hit the gas as soon as the door
closed, driving towards the airport.
"Have you gotten
through to the doctor, Dad?"
"No, they're
still in surgery."
"Dad, it's
only her appendix."
George Darcy glared
at his son. "When you have children, William, we'll
see if you think that 'it's only her appendix.'"
Will flushed with
embarrassment. He hadn't gotten a dressing down like that since
he "borrowed" one of farm's tractors when he was nine.
"Sorry, Dad."
Mr. Darcy grasped
his son's strong forearm. "You and Gina are all I have in
this world, Will. Family is everything - remember that."
Will was mortified
to see tears in his father's eyes. "I will, Dad."
Mr. Darcy gave him
a weak smile and patted his arm. "I know you will. We'll
be home soon. They're warming up the jet as we speak."
Within thirty minutes,
they were airborne.
~*~*~
January 1, 1999
New Years Day dawned
cold and wet, as a light rain fell on Memphis. Chris, operating
on four hours sleep, was making his way out of town towards Mari's
home in Jackson, Mississippi.
"You gonna
be okay, Chris?" asked Mari.
"I'm fine.
We didn't party that hard last night. I'll get you home in no
time." The windshield wipers beat out a monotonous rhythm.
"If you get
tired, pull over," said Lizzy from the back seat. "I've
driven a pick-up before."
"I promise.
I'll be okay, if I can get a bit of rest at your house, Mari."
"Sure, that
would be fine - stay as long as you need. Mom loves company."
The plan was to drop Mari and Lizzy off in Jackson. The girls
were to return to New Orleans in a couple of days, while Chris
pushed on for the city.
"Heard from
Will?" Mari asked.
"Ahh…
I left my cell phone charger at home. It's dead. Will left me
a note in the room. Seems he flew back with his Dad last night."
Elizabeth, leaning
back in her seat, mumbled, "Must be nice. Guess they didn't
want to miss any New Year's Day bowl games on TV."
"He said it
was family business," Chris explained.
"I'm sure,"
Lizzy responded, wondering why she was so disappointed. She looked
down at her handbag, Riptide half hanging out. I just can't
figure out that guy.
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