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Clear Eyes
The first time Eric Taylor saw the woman he would one day marry, it was 1985. He didn't pay her much mind. She was cute, but she was cheering--JV at that, he noted automatically--for the wrong team, Sweetwater High.
They were in Houston for 4A State--not quite the big leagues of 5A, but important enough for the two high schools involved. Eric was a senior, quarterback for Tomball, and the hopes of his school, his town, and especially his father were resting on his shoulders. And there were the recruiters, too, looking for a few gems among the second-tier high school teams. He tried very hard not to let the pressure get to him, but his hands were shaking just a little when he was in the locker room, waiting to go out on the field. He clasped his hands tightly, hoping no one noticed.
The wrong team won State that year. Afterwards, when Eric was politely shaking the hands of his adversaries, wondering what his father would have to say, the cute young cheerleader in the little red skirt was out there on the field, smiling and laughing with her friends. As Eric glumly walked off the field, accompanied by his depressed, exhausted teammates, Tami (not that he knew her name, not then) met his eyes for one brief moment.
The grin on her face faded into sympathy, and she gave him a little smile and shrugged her shoulders. She turned away from Eric's gaze when another cheerleader grabbed her into a hug, but he never forgot the compassion he'd seen in those wide, blue eyes.
Full Hearts
Eric went off to UT that fall, getting his scholarship despite losing State. The coach redshirted him--told him he'd best take some classes and work on his conditioning, and they'd play him the next year. He worked out hard at practice, and he missed playing, but he enjoyed being able to learn the playbook, focus on his studies, and get his bearing in the city. He didn't much mind the idea of five years to finish his degree, either.
Austin was an adjustment. Sixth Street was louder and more crowded, his classes were bigger and more difficult, and the vibe of the town much wilder than he'd imagined. It was a far cry from the Houston suburbs where he'd grown up. He could see now why his dad said Austin didn't belong in Texas, but he was coming to like the city just fine.
He saw the girl with the wide blue eyes again at Doug Otem's parents' cabin in the summer of '86. Otem invited the whole team to his July 4th blowout. Eric was there, but he wasn't sure he fit in with Otem and his friends, most of whom were going to be playing their last year as Longhorns that fall. They were as focused on NFL recruiters as Eric's father had been with university recruiters just a couple years ago.
The party was a heady experience. Otem's parents were gone, off to Cabo, or maybe it was a cruise; Eric wasn't sure. In any case, their "cabin" was twice as big as the house Eric had grown up in, with an expansive lawn sloping down to the lake and three different boats tied up at the dock.
He didn't realize who the shapely girl in the string bikini was at first, just that she looked familiar. He wrangled an introduction from his host, but she didn't pay him much mind. She was too busy hanging off Doug Otem's arm.
"This here is Tami," Otem said, one arm around the girl, the other gesturing expansively with a Shiner Bock. "She's still in high school, but with a body like hers, I think she's ready for the big leagues."
Tami didn't look like she knew what to say to that--her eyes widened, and that was the moment that Eric realized where he'd seen her before. "You, you're from Sweetwater," he blurted out.
She smiled. "Why, yes, I do attend Sweetwater High School," she said, her voice all sweet Texas honey on the surface, but there was a bite underneath it.
"I saw you before, is all I'm saying," Eric said awkwardly. "At State, you were cheering--"
"Oh, my, yes, you're Eric Taylor, aren't you?" she interrupted. "That was a good game you boys played that day, a good game."
"Thank you," he answered. "That's kind of you to say. Thank you." By the time he'd finished, she'd turned back to Otem, so he wandered off in search of some beer, and maybe a pretty young cheerleader of his own.
He got drunk that night, just like everyone else, even if he didn't find any pretty girl to keep him company. It was what was expected, and Eric wanted to fit in with his teammates, even if sometimes he didn't like what they did, what he did when he was with them. Tami from Sweetwater High School got a little drunk too, and she continued to hang off Doug Otem's arm like she was attached there. Eric thought about saying something to her, giving her some sort of warning--he knew what kind of guy Otem was, and he wasn't sure how much Tami knew of what was clearly going to happen that night--but in the end he kept his counsel. He had to make it through the next year with Otem as the captain of the team, and he knew better than to make waves.
He'd scoped out an out of the way couch early on--between summer workouts, summer classes, and the two jobs he was working, he knew it wouldn't take much beer before he'd be ready to crash--and he was sacked out on that couch, still awake, when Tami followed Otem down the hall to his room. He didn't think either one of them saw him. They stopped in the hallway outside the door, Tami pressing up against Otem and kissing him deeply, one hand down the back of his jeans. He guessed maybe she knew what she was doing after all, and it helped him relax enough to get to sleep.
The bathrooms were in predictable condition the next morning, but he didn't want to get into his car smelling like the vodka-laced punch someone had spilled on him sometime after three, so he headed down to the dock, figuring he'd get the worst of it off in the lake. Tami was sitting on the end, hanging her bare feet off the edge. The water was low enough that her feet didn't even reach, which somehow added to the dejection he saw in her body language.
He wasn't sure what to say, so he sat down next to her. "Hey, hey, Tami, how're you doin' this morning?" he settled on, knowing it was dumb but not knowing where else to start.
"Oh, I'm just fine, thank you very much," she said, and he saw she was fighting tears.
"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. "Geez, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he asked awkwardly. He hated it when pretty girls cried--he never knew how to handle that. "Do you need anything?" What could she possibly need that he could give her? That was an idiotic thing to ask.
"No, I don't need anything, Eric," she said. "I don't need anything at all."
She clearly did, though. The thing was, he had no idea what it was, or what he was supposed to do. "Is there--did you, uh, did you come up with a girlfriend? Can I find her for you?" A girlfriend would know what to do.
She snorted a laugh at that. "No, honey, I did not come up here with a girlfriend, but I thank you for asking. I made my bed, yes I did, and I'll lie in it--just maybe give me a few minutes alone, all right? Is that too much to ask?"
"No, no, of course not," he said, and he started to get up, then sat back down. She glanced at him, and he was momentarily struck dumb. He tried to think of something to say. "Wait a minute," he said finally, stalling for time. "Listen. Listen to me, okay? Just listen to me for a minute. You are a beautiful--"
She shook her head and looked like she was going to move away, but he put his hand on her arm, and she settled, looking out over the lake.
"No, listen up. You're a, you are a beautiful girl, Tami from Sweetwater High. And guys like, guys like Doug Otem, they do not, they should not hurt girls like you. And I'm sorry. Otem's my teammate, yeah, but Otem's also a jerk."
She snorted at that, but he could see she was close to tears again.
"He's, he's a jerk, really an asshole sometimes, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry he hurt you, because that's who he is. I'm sorry, because you, Tami, you deserve better. I really believe that."
She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since she'd caught his eye at State. Wow, those eyes of hers were amazing. "You know something?" she asked thoughtfully. "You are right. You're right, Eric. I do deserve better, and I thank you for reminding me of that fact."
"You're welcome," he said, smiling at her.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to pick myself up, and I'm going to call myself a taxi, and I'm going to get on a bus back home." She stood up, all determination and spunk, and he fell a little in love with her right at that moment.
"I could give you a ride," he said quickly. "To the bus station, I mean."
"That would be great," she answered, giving him a smile. "That would truly be great."
Can't Lose.
Tami Young knew Eric Taylor was cute the first time she saw him. Very cute, even if he played for the wrong team.
She knew Eric was sweet when he gave her a ride to the bus station after that horrible weekend when she slept with Doug Otem. Sweet, funny, and considerate. A caring young man, who kept in touch over the next couple years with an occasional postcard, barely legible.
She knew she was going to love him when he appeared at her dorm room her first week at UT. Specifically, she knew when he smiled at her. It took her breath away, that smile.
She knew she was going to marry him when he brought her breakfast in bed the morning after they slept together the first time. It was just stale donuts and weak orange juice he'd stolen from the dining hall, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter one bit.
END