TUESDAY TALES - "NASTY" WORD PROMPT

 

Welcome! This week we have another excerpt from "The Kicker." Don't forget to visit all the Tuesday Tales authors HERE, Thanks for stopping by. 

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Charlie parked the car, took the plate of cookies, and Marge's elbow, helping her across the nasty, slick ice coating the firehouse parking lot. Tyler picked up the bag and followed along behind. Once inside, his mother and uncle were greeted by their friends.

When she hurried over to the dessert table, she drew a small crowd. As she placed the confections down, she laughed with her friends. Tyler watched from across the room. He loved her too much to be jealous, but his heart ached to have the same welcome from friends in his life.

His teammates weren't beating down his door to wish him happy holiday. Most of them shot him looks of disgust as he cleaned out his locker. He'd let them down big time. No one else had fucked up as badly as Tyler. In football there's no bigger pariah than a loser. He'd gone from winner to loser in a matter of minutes. From savior to saboteur, from star to the bottom of the barrel in two quarters.

For the first time he'd doubted his own talent. He'd had two teams negotiating with him before he picked the Las Vegas Gamblers. He shook his head. What a mistake! He'd thought that Las Vegas would be a much better city to live in than Pittsburgh. Hah, he'd been totally wrong.

He'd almost considered moving back to Pittsburgh and going back to Rugger's, the bar he frequented when playing for the Bulls. He discarded the idea. No matter how nice they'd be, and he knew they would try to ignore his disaster, no one wants to hang around a failure. So he'd stayed in Pine Grove. Now he'd have to face the people there.

He picked up the bag and walked quickly over to the Christmas tree. One-by-one he pulled out the Secret Santa gifts. His small package was last. He held it in his hand for a moment. Pain seared through him. He'd counted on Brittany. Another mistake. He sighed. That package had represented so many hopes for the future. Now it was simply a Secret Santa bauble. He tossed it on the pile, folded up the shopping bag and looked for a chair. He found one in the corner and plopped his sorry ass down.

"Didn't you get any food?" His mother wandered over.

He shook his head. He had no appetite.

"They have all your favorites. Ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans. Even Cassie McKay's cranberry relish!"

"I'm not hungry, Mom."

"I'll get you a plate. Just wait here."

"Thanks, but I'm really not…"

"Don't think you're gonna get fed like this at home! Go on, then. Get your own plate. You can't mope around with that attitude all the time and quit eating. Whatever it is, let it go for now, will you? It's Christmas." 

He looked toward the food table. Was that Uncle Charlie? The man was laughing, gesturing, and chatting like he was thirty years younger. Tyler narrowed his eyes.

"I'll be damned," he muttered to himself as he wandered across the room. Charlie was flirting with  Madge Adams, Courtney's mother. Tyler chuckled to himself. Those Adams women held the Bentley men in the palm of their hand.