Cream of the Crop
Page 60

 Alice Clayton

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“Were you still working for the dairy?”
“Yup, football and cows, that was literally my life.”
“And Missy,” I said quietly, knowing that by now in this timeline, she’d made an appearance.
“And Missy,” he agreed. “She was as much a part as everything was back then. She was a cheerleader, she was right here for every game, on the sidelines or with my parents. We used to sit out back at nighttime, in one of the pastures, and talk about what things would be like when we were older. I’d play professional, I knew that now, and I knew I’d be afforded a life that I couldn’t turn down. No one from a tiny town in Wisconsin whose only other prospect was a lifetime at a dairy wouldn’t go for it guns blazing.”
I kept quiet, sensing that there was a turn coming in this tale.
“My knee started acting up my senior year at USC. At first I thought it was nothing; we all got banged up pretty good each game. My knee held, we were winning games right and left, and it was all starting to fall into place. After graduation, I got drafted, Missy and I got married right after that, and we were off for Dallas. To this day, I’ve never seen my dad more proud.”
He chewed on his lower lip, lost in thought.
“And then?” I prodded, and he cleared his throat.
“And then it was just how life was. We bought a house, we started talking about kids, I was playing, it was all good. Then my knee started getting really bad, but I thought, I really thought, I’d be able to stick it out. But . . . seventh game of the season, I was driving hard and the turf was loose. I went one way, my leg the other, and I could literally hear my knee pop. Worst pain I’ve ever felt.”
“Oh, Oscar.” I sighed, leaning my head on his strong arm, feeling the power that was still there, humming beneath the surface. So strong.
“Anyway, that was it. I had the surgery, went to rehab, tried liked hell to not see the signs that were so clear, but in the end it was obvious, I was done.”
“I bet that was rough.”
“You know what?” His expression lightened surprisingly. “It was rough, but it was kind of a relief. I couldn’t play anymore, so I could actually breathe for a bit, think about what else I wanted to do. Neither one of us wanted to stay in Dallas; big cities were never our thing. So we went home. I’d saved most of my signing bonus, and money went much further in rural Wisconsin than it did in the big city, so we went home and started over.”
“And that’s where the cheese comes in?”
“Exactly. I knew an old guy who lived in town, made cheddar. He used to buy his milk from our dairy, and I’d been interested in the process. I started working with him, learning the business, and when Missy and I talked about what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives, we started thinking about where else in the country we might like to live. She’d always wanted to live somewhere different—and it’s crazy when an idea takes hold, how fast things can change.”
I shook my head. “It’s not crazy, it’s just you. Anyone who can overcome an injury like that is tough. You’re determined as hell, Oscar. I’m not at all surprised you figured out a way through it.”
He blushed a bit, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, that’s how we ended up here. There was a farm for sale, there were several outbuildings on the property for me to get my ­cheese-making thing going; it was almost too easy. But once we got here and settled in, things changed.”
“Between you and Missy?”
“Yep. Away from family and friends, away from everything we’d always thought we’d do together, we started to . . . I don’t know . . . drift apart, I guess? Not right away, but luckily it happened before we had any kids. So when the split came, it was clean.”
“And she didn’t go back home.”
“Oh no, she loved the area. She lives in the next town over, as you know. I admit, I didn’t get to know many people here when we first moved. You might have noticed I tend to be a little . . . standoffish?”
“Noooo,” I mocked, and he kissed me on top of the head.
“But then the cheese started coming together, literally and figuratively, and I’d invested the money I’d earned well enough to really give it a go. And there we are.”
“And there we are,” I said, stopping on the sidewalk. We’d walked around the town square nearly enough times to wear a path in the concrete. I wrapped both arms around him, leaning into a hug. “And your family?”
“They’re back home. They do their thing. My dad’s grooming my nephew to be the next Brett Favre.”
“Who?”
“Oh, Natalie.” He sighed and hugged me back just as tightly.
So now I knew the story of Oscar.
I spent the rest of the day with him, helping him move the cows around, enjoying the day, kissing him whenever I could manage it. And when he kissed me good-bye at the train station that night, it was all I could do to not throw my arms around him and stay another night.
He was under my skin now.
Chapter 16
Back in the city, I worked my ass off, spending ten hours a day in the office, focusing my attention on work to keep my mind from wandering to what was waiting for me just a train ride away. But I had work, and work I did.
The T&T campaign was coming along marvelously, sharp and witty and exactly how I had envisioned it. Dan had made a few suggestions about how to beef up the coverage a bit, including some witty copy that would play really well on the radio ads the client had agreed to purchase.