"Riggins, how about you get yer head outta yer ass?" Coach Taylor placed his hands on his hips and paced back and forth in front of his offensive line, his temper raging at what he saw. "Do you gentlemen realize that we've got two days before Westerby comes here? They don't care if they humiliate you in front of your family." He bit his bottom lip, his index finger curling around his fullback's facemask. "You've ran this play a million times, son. You should be able to do it in your sleep!"
Riggins backed away, his eyes downcast. Eric could smell remnants of alcohol, his stomach tightening in knots. He ignored his observation and continued. Preaching to Riggins about drinking was a lost cause. "Line back up and get it right this time, or you will all run!" He raised his voice and walked back to the sideline, glancing up into the stands. Buddy waved at him and he nodded back, but quickly turned back to his team. "You men get this play right I might just call it a day!"
He wiped some sweat off of his brow and the back of his neck. He felt so sticky and his heavy cotton shirt engulfed him, making him feel about one hundred pounds heavier. The Gatorade beside him looked refreshing, so he drank down two cups before sending the team to the showers.
The walk back to the field house was nothing unbearable, but when he reached his office he felt as if he had ran a marathon. Sitting down hard in his chair, he was caught off guard when Coach McGill tapped his fist on the doorframe.
"You okay Coach? You look exhausted."
Eric moved some paperwork around on his desk and nodded. "Yeah, just need to catch up on some sleep. You gonna be here at 7:30 for film tomorrow?"
"You bet. It's probably the heat out there that has you feeling so crappy. Forecast says we are in for three digit temperatures for the rest of August."
"Just keep the fluids going, we'll be okay." Eric grabbed his duffel bag, throwing it over his shoulder as he strode toward Mac. "I think I'm headed home. See ya bright and early."
"Hon, you wanna take the trash out right quick?" Tami poked her head into the pantry, plugging her nose with her fingertips. "It's starting to smell pretty rank."
Eric glared at her a moment and paused the TV, mustering up enough energy to get to a standing position. He tried not to react the way he had, but couldn't control the fact that he was annoyed by her request. The look on her face was enough to tell him that his reaction had pissed her off. The smell of the garbage hit his stomach like a lead balloon and he pulled away and ducked his nose into his shirt collar.
"Jeez, what in the hell is in that?" Wincing, he quickly tied it up to mask the odor escaping from it.
"Dirty diapers mainly. And I'm sorry. I would take it out myself but I'm in the middle of making dinner. You act like the dumpster is five blocks away."
He looked down at the floor, a yawn erupting from his lips. "I'm sorry Tami. I had just gotten comfortable and with the day I've had it's hard to get going." He pulled up on the plastic bag, holding it away from his body as he went out the back door. Pausing, he turned and smiled at her. "Don't ya think we need to invest in a diaper genie?"
"Just get it out of the house before we all pass out from poisonous gasses." Tami giggled, indicating to Eric that she was over his reluctant attitude toward taking the mundane chore.
He heaved the heavy bag over his shoulder, slamming it down into the metal bin. Bracing himself on a nearby fence, he hunched over to catch his breath. He didn't understand why he was so exhausted. He had lived in Texas his whole life and had endured many hot summers, and never did he get this tired from the temperature out. Maybe it was because he was getting older.
Shrugging it off, he straightened his posture and ambled back through his gate and back in the house, falling hard into his recliner. His eyelids grew heavy and he dozed off to the sound of the game film playing in front of him.
"Eric? Hon, supper is ready if you want to come join us." Tami tugged at his arm and he jolted forward. "You sure you are okay?"
He swallowed hard and pushed the chair forward. "Yeah, I'm good. Just took me a little cat nap." The smell of her meatloaf made his mouth water and his stomach growl. At least he did have his appetite. Julie was making her plate and Gracie was in her high chair, a small saucer in front of her with several small chunks of meat and cut up vegetables scattered in front of her.
"I think she's wearing more than what's going in her tummy." Eric poked his finger in her stomach, his voice changing to baby talk. "Aren't you my Gracie Belle? That food good?"
His youngest daughter smiled up at him, her mouth full of mashed potatoes. A few flew out of from her lips as she laughed. Her hair was smooth like peach fuzz and he ran his fingertips over her scalp as he sat down adjacent to her. The food looked amazing and he dug right in, the meat heavy on his tongue as it trailed down to his stomach.
He listened intently as Julie talked about her day and how she had to have an article out for the Dillon High newspaper before Friday and how it would be humiliating when she had to interview the school superintendent on several issues that she knew nothing about. Gracie's face was covered in her dinner with a few green beans plastered in the layer of mashed potatoes on her chin. Eric still couldn't believe that she was at the age where she knew how to feed herself, just didn't have the whole mechanics of working a fork down.
"Dinner was great, Tami." He patted his stomach and leaned back in his chair. He felt another yawn escape from his lips and he stood up, walking back to the couch. "Need any help with the dishes?" He was hoping deep inside she'd say no, but if he didn't ask she'd probably have something else snide to say about him helping around the house.
"No dad, I got it." Julie poked her head around the corner.
"Thanks Jules, maybe your father and I can spend some time together." Tami grabbed two wineglasses from the cupboard and a bottle of Merlot from the cabinet. Pouring him a glass, she sat beside him and brushed her lips against his. "You aren't going to fall asleep one me, Coach?"
Eric shook his head, sipping on the liquid. "Nope. Just waiting on the girls to go to bed." He arched his eyebrow at her, hoping she'd catch his hint and thankfully, she had.
"You think Julie is asleep?" Eric kept his voice low as he leaned in and kissed Tami's neck, leaning back against the headboard. The local news was on but he wasn't paying too much attention to it.
"I don't know, hon. It's only ten o'clock, it's very unlikely."
"She uses her Ipod when she's studying right? Maybe she's working on that article she was talking about." His hands ran through her hair. Despite the fact that he was tired, he still wanted some time with Tami. Between hauling around Julie and Gracie and it being football season, moments like this were few and far between and he had to take advantage of them regardless of how he felt.
Tami smiled, kissing him back, a small moan vibrating in her throat. "I think we are safe. I'll lock the door. It's not like we haven't snuck around before." She walked to the door, turning the knob with a loud click. Her strut back to the bed excited him and he pulled her close to him, his hands working overtime as he felt her soft skin beneath him.
Their embrace was passionate and exhilarating, but Eric found himself grow out of breath quickly, his body tiring much faster than usual. Sweat poured from his brow and the aches in his legs and back made him push Tami away. Her surprised expression felt like a punch to his stomach, and he turned to his side to face away from her as he ran his hands through his moist hair.
"Eric, what is wrong?" Her fingers ran down his spine, sending a chill through him. "That was a little quick, wouldn't you say?"
He felt his cheeks warm up and he reached down on the floor for his boxers, pulling them up over his hips. He tried not to look her way as he strode to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The reflection in the mirror made him grimace. He ran his index finger under his eyes, tracing the black bags that formed beneath them.
Cupping his hands, he allowed the cold water from the sink trickle into his palms. Ducking his head, he splashed the water up onto his face and over his lips. It felt so good and refreshing that he did it again. Closing his eyes tightly, he savored the moment and gritted his teeth when Tami knocked on the door.
"Eric! What is wrong? Hon, open the door." Her voice was shaky and Eric hadn't realized how much worry he had caused her. It wasn't her fault that he had gotten so tired.
"Everything's fine. I'll be out in a minute." His voice was husky and he coughed to clear his throat. He glared up at himself again and leaned up against the counter top, both of his hands on either side of the faucet. Again, his actions were making him a stranger to himself. He had been exhausted countless times and still found enough strength and stamina to make love to Tami. Why was this time different?
He was coming down with a cold, that had to be the case. Football season was upon him and he always ran himself into the ground. His immune system was usually top notch, but with the added pressures of being athletic director he had finally pushed his body overboard.
Nodding to himself, he opened the bathroom door, revealing Tami on the other side, now wearing one of his old Dillon t-shirts and a pair of sweats. He parted his lips and a nervous laugh escaped him. Tami however, was not amused in the least bit as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Married eighteen years and you never once had to stop in the middle of sex. What's the problem, Eric?" She grabbed his arm, pulling him back to the bed. He sat down beside her on the edge, wishing he had an honest answer to her question.
Shrugging, he grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I think I'm coming down with something, that's all. I'll be fine. I just need to get some rest."
By her facial expression, Eric could tell that she wasn't buying his story and frankly, he wasn't in the mood to say anything else so he crawled to his side of the bed and buried himself under the comforter.
"Set the alarm for 6:30. I got game film in the morning."
"Eric! It's 6:45, don't you think you oughta to get up?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted awake, his eyes widening. "Hon, I've been trying to get you up for fifteen minutes. I already got my shower. It's your turn."
He pulled a pillow over his face, groaning into it. "Just get ready and go to work. I'll get up in a little bit."
Tami pulled on him one more time and he resisted. "Okay then. I'll take Gracie to daycare and Julie will catch a ride with me." She paused. "Didn't you say you had game film this morning?"
Eric didn't move underneath the sheets. "Yeah. I'll get up in time." He instantly dozed back off, his body sinking low into the mattress. He always had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, but this morning it was a task he could not accomplish at all.
At first he thought he was dreaming about a phone ringing, but when he opened his eyelids he could hear it near his head on his nightstand. Fumbling for the cell, he didn't even take a moment to check the caller ID to see who was calling.
"Hello?" His voice was raspy and thick.
"Eric, where in the hell are you? I thought you wanted to meet at 7:30 for game film!" It was Coach McGill, and Eric quickly threw the covers off and glanced at the alarm clock. It was 8:45 and he had yet to even get out of bed.
"Shit, Mac. I'm sorry, I overslept." And to be honest, he could probably sleep for five more hours. "I'll be down there as soon as I can."
"Okay Coach. See you in a little bit."
He closed the face of his phone, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stared up at the ceiling. Hitting the snooze a couple of times was understandable, but being over an hour late for work was unacceptable.
He fought against the will of his body and dragged himself to the shower, taking a quick one. The hot water was comforting, but stung his sore eyes as droplets dripped down from his eyelashes. He didn't even bother to shave and got dressed in his normal blue pullover and khaki shorts. He checked himself over in the mirror one last time, his five o'clock shadow making him look worse than he had the previous night. Maybe he should've shaved, but it was too late now. Before he went out to his truck he grabbed his mug of coffee, savoring the warm liquid. There was no way he could survive without caffeine to kick start him.
Eric had never been so mad at himself. He always preached about punctuality to his athletes and coaching staff and here he was being a hypocrite about it. He walked into the north side of the field house, noticing that Coach McGill and Coach Crawley were waiting in the film room.
"Hey guys, I'm sorry. I guess I needed the sleep."
McGill handed him the remote, his facial expression blank. "You sure you are okay, Coach?"
Eric drank down the last remnants of his coffee and sat down in a chair in the front row, almost wanting to dodge his assistant's question. "I'm fine. Let's get this day going. I'll be on time tomorrow."