Chapter Three

Eric rolled over in bed, seeing that it was around 6:30 AM. He tried to fall back to sleep but was wide-awake, staring up at the ceiling fan that swirled over them. Glancing at Tami his mind went back to the night before when he lost his temper with her. He really didn't have a basis for why he had gotten so mad at her but he felt like he had been patronized for wanting to relax and have a few drinks.

Kicking his legs off of the side of the bed, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. The house was cool and quiet; no one else had awakened for the day. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair, opening up the refrigerator and glancing in at some of the food. Nothing caught his eyes so he rummaged through the pantry, shutting the door with nothing that satisfied him. As if something different were to magically appear in the refrigerator, he looked again, his eyes staring down at a 12 pack of beer on the bottom shelf.

He knew he had to go to work in a little while but he grabbed a long neck and unscrewed the top, sipping the cold liquid. 'One beer won't hurt,' he thought, grabbing the paper from the porch. He sat down at the kitchen table, spreading it out in front of him. Same old news in this town, he wasn't even sure why he had made a subscription to the Dillon Daily News.

He traced his finger in the ring of water that the beer had made on the surface of the table. He spotted Tami out of the corner of his eye, his glance looking up at his wife who had just gotten up.

"Eric?"

He nodded, "Hey babe."

"What time did you get up?" She sat down across from him, noticing the beer but remaining quiet about it for the time being.

"6:30. Went to bed early last night so I got some good sleep." He was lying through his teeth; he didn't sleep well at all from all of the stress he had on his mind.

She poured herself a cup of coffee still debating to herself whether or not she should say something in fear of another fight.

"That's good babe, you need some rest." She sat down again, propping her head up with her hand. "You really think it's wise to be drinking that before work?" She couldn't hold back the question any longer and hoped that he'd be cool about it.

His eyes moved from her down to the dark bottle. "It's just one beer Tami, it's not going to phase me."

"At 6:45 in the morning? Why do you need a beer this early?"

He shrugged, trying to be calm but he felt threatened again. He really wasn't sure why he had an urge to have one, to be honest he didn't even give it a second thought.

"I'm feeling a little hung over this morning. I always heard drinking a beer is like the hair of the dog. It helps it out." He kept his voice low, not able to look Tami in the eye as he spoke.

She smirked. "And who did you hear this from, Tim Riggins? Hon, that is bull crap. Do you need to talk about something, maybe blow off some steam? You are wound up tight lately and your behavior is really freaking me out."

Eric stood up, drinking down what was left. "I'm fine. I just wanted a beer before work, is that so hard to believe?" He threw the glass in the trashcan, going down the hallway towards his room. "What is bothering me is the fact that you are acting like my mother."

"No, I'm acting like someone that cares and if you are too ignorant to see that than I guess it's your mistake, not mine."

"I gotta get in the shower or I'm going to be late," he responded, shutting the door behind him.

Eric arrived at work around 8:15, pulling into his parking spot. He had to ride with Tami since the Explorer was in the shop, another hinder added to his list. He paused before getting out, grabbing a stick of spearmint gum from his glove compartment before heading in. To his surprise, Mac was there before him, putting together some playbooks.

"Hey Coach, good morning," Mac said, patting him on the back.

Eric nodded, sitting down hard in his office chair. He stared down at a family picture of the four of them; everyone looked so happy and glad to be around each other. Too bad that wasn't the real truth. It seemed that Julie wanted to leave home as soon as she could and Tami was just out to nag him all of the time. Gracie worried him as well. He wasn't making near the money he was last year and he feared that with her around now he wouldn't be able to provide for his the way he should.

"You hear me Eric?" Mac was now sitting across from him. He hadn't even realize he had left the copy machine.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Eric's eyes burned as he looked up.

"I was saying that we really need to work on our pass game today at practice. When McGregor was here he pretty much diluted it so we gotta get Matt's arm back in sync."

Still not saying much, Eric stood up and made his way to the film room, sitting in the dark. He hadn't turned the screen on yet and Mac followed him in, taking note to Eric's behavior. His demeanor was horrible. It looked as if he hadn't shaved in a few days and the bags under his eyes were much more noticeable than they ever were before.

"Eric, you doing okay?" Mac sat adjacent to him.

Opening his eyes, Coach Taylor glared at his assistant as if he were out of line for being concerned. "I'm fine. Why?" His voice was stern and to the point.

"I'm just relating to you, that's all. You've got a lot on your plate right now Eric, just letting you know that I'm here for moral support."

Eric gritted his teeth, gripping his hands around the arms of the chair he was sitting in. He tried so hard to keep his composure and quite frankly wasn't sure why his temper was going out of control. "I'm fine. I thought I might watch some game film."

"Okay coach, I'm going to go work on practice."

Eric watched as McGill made his exit, staring back at the blank projector screen. He put his hat bill over his face, leaning back. He felt trapped, like the four walls around him were quickly closing in on him and the only way out was miles away and with each step the door moved farther away. Fighting his body, he stood up and walked to his office, opening the bottom drawer of his desk.

Inside was a small bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey that Buddy had brought by as a welcome back gift a few weeks earlier. 'Just a few sips to take the edge off', he thought, putting his lips around the top and taking a few swigs. The sensation burned, but it was one he was growing to love more and more. His eyes read the label, 40 alcohol. He sipped again, this time putting the amber bottle back in its place and began preparing himself for practice later that day.

Practice started around 3:30 that afternoon and to Eric's surprise every athlete was on time and out on the field when they were supposed to be. He paced back and forth in front of his squad while they did their warm ups and stretches. Before practice he had taken a couple of more drinks from his bottle to mellow out some, he could tell that the moral of his team was low and him being so hard on them because of his stress was like putting fuel on a fire.

"Okay boys, line up first string offense, first string defense." He folded up his playbook, putting it in his back pocket. "No dropped passes, no missed tackles!"

First play was for the fullback and Riggins carried the ball for about two yards before fumbling it. Walking up to Riggins, Coach grabbed onto his facemask with his index and middle fingers, pulling on it.

"What just happened there 33?" He paused, smirking and letting out a laugh. "You forget the fundamentals of holding a pigskin?"

"No sir." Tim shook his head. He couldn't help but smell a lingering scent of alcohol and he wasn't sure if it was coming from Coach or if it was just his imagination.

"Run the play again," motioning for Tim to get back to the line of scrimmage. "Let's be quick but let's be efficient gentleman."

As the team changed and showered Riggins watched Coach from a distance. His mood was a little off than what it normally was, especially since they had a mediocre practice. He seemed too mellow and relaxed, not stressed and tense about how the last two hours had played out.

"What's wrong Riggs, you got a crush on somebody?" Smash placed his hand on Tim's shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. He hadn't realized he was that obvious.

"No man, just thinking."

"Oh no, everyone look out, 33 was thinking. Call the fire department, I think I see steam coming out of his ears."

A few murmurs could be heard among the few that were left in the locker room. Riggins turned back to his locker, ignoring Smash as much as he could. He now had a decision to make, keep this to himself and wait or tell someone. For all he knew it was just Coach in a good mood. He shrugged it off and packed up his duffel bag, walking out the side door to his truck. The last thing he wanted or needed to do at the moment was stick his nose in other people's business. Coach had barely let him back on the team so he was walking a thin line as it was.

"You ready to go?" Coach poked his head through the threshold of Tami's office door, smiling at his wife who had her head buried in some paperwork. "It's almost 5:30."

She looked up, pulling her hair behind her neck. "Yeah, let me get my jacket and we can be on our way." Things were tense around them from the recent arguments they had had about Eric's sporadic drinking as well as his behavior. "How was your day hon?" She asked as they walked outside.

"Not too bad." He jostled his keys in his pocket, nearly dropping them on the ground. "Today wasn't bad at all." He leaned in to kiss Tami before she got in the car and instantly Tami could smell the whiskey on his breath so she pushed away.

"Eric." That was all she said, her facial expression angry.

"What?" His voice squeaked a little as he started to go to the driver's side.

"Give me the keys." She looked at her wristwatch. "5:30 and you have a buzz. I'm not getting in the car with you unless I drive."

His looked around them, hoping no one had been watching their little spat out by the field house. "You are causing a scene Tam. Get in the car, I'm fine. It was a shot with Mac after practice."

"A beer in the morning. A shot with Mac. Where do you draw the line? Give me the damn keys Eric!"

In fear that someone was watching he reluctantly tossed the keys her way and sat down hard on the passenger side. He grabbed hold of the door handle and gripped it hard, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the rubber.

"Excuse me if I want to relax with a drink from time to time." His voice was low and could barely be heard over the murmur of the car engine.

Tami glanced at him from the corner of her eye but kept watching the road. "Time to time? Time to time?! You had a beer at six in the morning Eric!"

He adjusted the baseball cap on his head, pulling the bill down around his eyebrows. "Yeah, well things are a little stressful at the moment. We've got Gracie. We've got a rebellious teenage daughter that woke up one day hating her parents for no reason. The Dillon Panther football team is in shambles from a careless coach! The SUV is broken down and to put the cherry on a brilliant story I'm not making near the money I was last year and we have more financial obligation now than we ever have before! Excuse me if I want to relax with a beer!"

"You don't have to yell at me Eric, we are in this together. You can talk to me about it but please don't use that tone."

He folded his arms over his chest, taking in a deep breath. "These problems are not going to be fixed by your hobby of being the Dillon High guidance counselor. Things are not just going to go away if we ignore them."

A solitary tear trickled down Tami's cheek as they pulled into their driveway. "And you know what? Drinking a beer isn't going to make them go away either." She paused, wiping the tear away. "You can find another place to stay tonight because I don't want to be near you, much less look at you."

TBC……