Lyla breezes past her father as she walks in the door later that night. She's been to three coffee shops, the local library and Barnes & Noble, trying to hammer out an alternative job plan in and around Dillon, while simultaneously, trying not to check her cell phone every 30 seconds waiting for a message from Tim.
"Hi to you, too, honey," Buddy Garrity calls as she heads into her room.
"Hi Dad," she pokes her head outside. "I'm - uh - just going to get something to eat later, okay? I'm really tired; just going lie down for a while, watch some TV."
"You could watch out here with me," Buddy offers hopefully. "I have to leave for a booster meeting in about half-an-hour, but we could - I don't know - spend some time together now. You're leaving so soon, hon, I'd love it if we could just, you know, spend some quality time together. I've barely seen you since you've been home."
"Um, maybe later, Dad," Lyla says. "Tell me if Tim calls, please," she closes her door.
"Sure, honey," Buddy says to a closed door. "But he's probably not going to," he mutters to himself, before turning his attention back to ESPN.
When the door knocks, he sighs. He doesn't want to engage in any discussion about that new sophomore running back - the one they're trying to recruit from Midland - until the meeting. But he just knows that Rich Pattinson is going to try to bend his ear about it beforehand, just like Rich has been pestering him for the last three weeks.
He puts down his beer and goes to the door. "Look, I am just not prepared to empty the cupboards of the booster funds for this kid," he opens the door in mid-sentence.
"No problem there, because I'm not planning on asking you to," Tim Riggins smiles at Buddy.
"Tim Riggins," Buddy is surprised. He pauses. "Come on in." He lowers his voice to a furious whisper as Tim steps inside. "You know, my daughter has been waiting for you to call for the last, I don't even know, so whatever is going on here -" he waves wildly around him, "fix it."
"Um, yes sir," Tim stammers as his smile disappears. "Is she, um, is she here?" he asks expectantly.
"Yes, Tim Riggins, she's here," Buddy is exasperated. "In there. Barely even talking to me, I should add, in there moping over you and your - who the hell knows. Just - just go," he splutters, waving back to Lyla's room.
Tim nods and goes back to Lyla's bedroom. He knocks on the door.
"Seriously, Dad, I do not want to spend any 'quality time' together this evening," she calls through the door.
Tim knocks again. He hears Lyla stomp over to the door and pull it open. "Dad, I mean it, I am not -" she stops in mid-sentence as she sees Tim.
"What is with you Garritys and not actually checking to see who's at the door?" Tim grins. He's amused.
"Tim!" Lyla sucks in her breath. "Tim, I've been - I've been calling you and -" she breaks off, shaking her head.
"I know," Tim says, "I'm sorry. Can I . . .?" he motions inside.
Lyla looks beyond Tim to her father, who's watching her and nodding expectantly. "Sure," Lyla says. "Yes, of course." She watches as Tim seats himself on her desk chair and closes the door behind him.
"Hi," she smiles - shyly - as she leans back against the door. "I didn't - I didn't know where you were. Again. . . . That seems to be happening a lot lately. I mean, not that you owe me anything, I know we broke up, but - I miss you. I can't do this without you, Tim."
Tim watches her curiously, wondering where she is going. She definitely seems to be going somewhere with this.
Lyla sighs and looks at the floor. "I've been thinking; I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, you know? I've had a lot of time to think. . . . And I've made a few decisions. The first one - well, actually it's the only one - I haven't figured out anything else yet - but I'm not - I'm going to turn down the Austin job. I've - I've been to the library and bookstores and I know I'll be able to find something - something in local government or something - that's - I don't know, but I'm going to - I'm looking, I mean, and I'm going to figure out something," her voice trails off. She lifts her eyes up to see if Tim's watching her, to see what he's thinking, doing.
Tim's eyes are wide. He's clearly shocked.
"Anyway, I - I am so sorry, Tim; I am sorry that I took it for granted that you would - I'm sorry that I took you for granted; I didn't mean to, I love you - so much - and I can't imagine my life without you in it. And I know that you - you built us in this incredible house, and of course you expect us to live there, and you - you went to college for me, with the expectation that we'd come back here and make a life together, of course, and it was shitty of me to expect you to give up that life, that - everything you've - I don't even know what I'm - I just - I just need you to say that you forgive me for - for sleeping with that guy. And asking you to - just asking you to -"
"Lyla, stop," Tim is in front of her now, inches away from her. His hands are on her shoulders. "Stop," he says softly as he looks down at her.
"Right, right," Lyla is nodding; she's still looking down; of course, tears are falling down her cheeks. As usual. Why can't she stop crying these days? Lyla can't look up at him. "I know that you're upset, you have every right to be, I just -" Lyla's blabbering now, just to fill the silence.
"Lyla," Tim's voice is firmer. "Stop. Please," he lifts up her chin. "Stop," he wipes away her tears. "I forgive you, I do. I do," he repeats, nodding. "Okay? I do."
She's looking at him now, nodding, sniffling. She tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear. "Do you - do you think you could . . . ." her voice trails off. She can't speak.
Tim is still looking down at Lyla; his eyes reflect his deep love for her. "Lyla, you're not giving up the Austin job."
"Tim, don't," Lyla shakes her head. "Don't, because I've already - I've already thought it out, and you're not, you're not going to convince me to leave you behind because you're 'not that guy'; you're not going to convince me this time because it's different and I can't and this is - this is what life is supposed to be about, right? It's supposed to be about making tough choices - together - with the person you love."
"Right," Tim nods. "I know. And I'm not asking you to leave me behind. I'm telling you -" he takes her face in his hands - "that I'm going with you. That's what I came here to tell you."
"What?" Lyla is stunned. She can't comprehend what Tim has just told her.
"I'm coming with you," Tim repeats. He plants Lyla down on the bed, and sits next to her. "You, me, Austin - together," he says slowly. "How much simpler can I make this?" he smiles at her.
"I don't -" Lyla is shaking her head. "I don't understand. You're not - you told me you weren't coming, that you couldn't . . . come. You - I don't - what?"
"That is true," Tim nods slowly. "I did tell you all that. And then I sat on my ass feeling sorry for myself for a while, and decided that I'm an idiot, 'cause my home is with you, in Dillon, in Austin, in Washington - well, not in Washington, so please don't ever do that to me," he grins, "but I can do Texas. I can do Austin. I'm with you on this, Lyla. I am. . . . It's a great opportunity, everything you've already told me. It's three years - two for me," he laughs. "Or more," his tone grows serious. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Together. . . . Although," he cocks his head and smiles teasingly, "I do love that you were willing to give it up for me. I love that you're a big enough idiot to do that. For me," he brushes the hair out of her eyes.
Lyla is laughing and crying at the same time. She hits him playfully before collapsing into his arms. "I can't even -" her voice is muffled as her face is pressed against his chest. She stops mid-sentence, and just lets him hold her. She feels his heart beating against her cheek. Lyla lets the quietness envelop her - them. She can't voice the joy - the pure joy - she is feeling right now. She can't find the words to express to him how grateful she is to him. Right now. In this moment right now. I love you so fucking much, Tim Riggins.
Finally, she pulls away, and wipes her eyes and her nose. Tim reaches across her bed to the nightstand and hands her a tissue. She blows her nose loudly. Tim smiles at her affectionately.
"Thank you, Tim," Lyla says quietly.
"No problem, I mean, it's your tissue," he smiles.
"You know what I mean," she says.
"I know what you mean," Tim nods and takes her hand. "So, I actually haven't even shared my good news yet."
"That wasn't the good news?" Lyla looks up at him. "Because, really, that was pretty incredible news."
"True," Tim nods and grins, "but I have even better news. Coach Taylor offered me a job at TMU. Well, it's not quite a job - not yet, anyway, but he offered me an internship - or something like - anyway."
Lyla's eyes are wide. She is silent, waiting for Tim to continue.
"I went out there - to Austin, I mean - yesterday. That's where I was," Tim says.
"You were - you left my house and went to . . .?"
"Not - not, I mean, I did, but not right away. The next morning. I went the next morning."
"You went to talk to Coach Taylor about a job?"
"I - I did, I thought he could, I dunno, help me find an assistant coaching gig somewhere, at some local high school. I have the Dillon experience, you know?"
Lyla nods, waiting for him to continue.
"But he asked me - he asked me if I'd ever thought about college, and I hadn't - I mean, it's crazy, you know? Because I've been playing for so long but I hadn't ever thought about coaching college. Didn't think, well I don't know what I thought, but Coach Taylor, he thinks I can do it, he has . . . faith in me, I guess," Tim looks down at his hands. "Anyway, so, we - I mean he offered me this four-week tryout, I guess," he pauses, "and I - if it goes well, then he says he'll give me a full-time job there after graduation."
Lyla's eyes are shining. She can't believe what she's hearing. "Seriously?" she shakes her head. "A coaching job at TMU? Wow. I just - I'm so - I'm so proud of you, Tim," she throws her arms around him and holds him tightly.
"Thank you," he replies quietly. "So, this is it, you know? You and me - Austin. A new life, I guess," he smiles uncertainly. He looks down again.
Lyla is silent for a moment, watching him. "I know this is scary, Tim," she speaks softly. "I know that."
Tim looks at her with a slight smile. He nods.
"I love you so much for doing this. I mean, I love you regardless of what you do - but this. . . . This is incredible. I just - you are an incredible man, Tim," Lyla takes his hand and squeezes it.
"Thanks," Tim smiles. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Yeah, it is," Lyla replies. "It is." She pauses. "Tim," she turns his face back toward her, "you're going be great. You're going be amazing," she says softly. "And we're going to be happy. . . . We're going to be so happy."
Tim's smile broadens. "I know," he nods. "I know." He puts his arms around her and pulls her close, kissing her forehead and closing his eyes.
Lyla finally pulls away. "So when are we going?" she asks. "When are you supposed to be there?"
"Well, that may be an issue," Tim says. "In three weeks."
Lyla's eyes register her surprise. "Wow. Okay, well we need to - we should get moving then, shouldn't we." She throws herself across her bed and opens the drawer to her nightstand. She rummages around, emerging victoriously with a small scrap of crumpled up paper. "Realtor!" she announces triumphantly. "My realtor from last summer - she's the one who got me that place near the Capitol, remember? You liked that neighborhood?"
"Right, yeah," Tim nods.
"She was great, so easy to work with," Lyla chatters away. "Particularly since I didn't have a clue what I was doing. I was planning on calling her again, seeing if she could do something for me this fall - she'll be able to help us, I'm sure. We just have to pull together a list of criteria-" Tim is looking at her blankly - "things that we want in a place," she is speaking quickly, excitedly. "You know, bedrooms, bathrooms, stuff like that - oh, and location! We need to have a place that's close to TMU and the Capitol, you know?"
"Right," Tim gives her an amused grin. "Absolutely."
"Seriously, Tim, this is important stuff," Lyla laughs and falls back on her bed. "Grown-up stuff."
"Right," Tim nods. "Grown-up stuff," he lays back on her bed next to her.
"I need to call her," Lyla turns her face toward his. "We should call her - maybe she can meet us there next week? If we get our priorities together and figure out what we want, we can look at a few apartments - probably get everything signed and leased in, like, two days," Lyla looks at Tim hopefully, then up at the ceiling. She pauses. "I can't believe this is really happening," she sighs with relief. "I just - three days ago I was sitting at Smitty's feeling sorry for myself - been spending a lot of time there, fyi, just in case Hal tells you any stories," she looks back at Tim, who is grinning and shaking his head. "Anyway, I was just feeling so sorry for myself, I was so depressed, and here we are - we're right here, planning our lives together - in Austin! I just - I'm so happy right now, Tim, I can't even tell you."
"I know," Tim smiles at her affectionately. "Just don't sleep with any more guys."
Lyla laughs and pokes him. "Promise. Besides, you're the only one I want."
"That's the right answer," Tim throws an arm around her and pulls her close. They lay in silence for a minute, just holding each other.
Their peaceful silence is interrupted by Buddy's booming voice. "I'm heading out, Lyla," he calls through the door. "See you later, sweetheart."
"Dad, wait -" Lyla jumps up from the bed and throws open the door; Tim quickly sits up. Lyla looks back at Tim. "Can I?" she asks expectantly. Tim looks amused; he nods.
Buddy simply looks confused as he looks back and forth between them. Lyla certainly seems much happier than when he last saw her not half-an-hour ago. "Hon, I'm running late, so whatever it is -"
"Tim is coming to Austin, Daddy!" Lyla blurts out. "He's coming with me."
Buddy looks surprised. A smile slowly spreads across his face. "Well, that's great news, honey. Tim," he looks over at Tim and nods. "You're really going?" he asks.
"Yes, sir, I am," Tim responds.
Buddy pauses, trying to digest this information. "So, what are you planning on doing in Austin, son?" Buddy asks. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Dad!" Lyla is surprised. "How about an 'I'm so happy for you' or -"
"Working for Coach Taylor, actually, sir," Tim interrupts Lyla smoothly, standing up.
Buddy's jaw drops. "What?"
"Coach Taylor's offered me a job, Mr. Garrity. As an assistant offensive coordinator, sir. I'm planning on working out with the coaches this summer."
Buddy is stunned into silence.
"So, Lyla and I - we're going to have to leave earlier than planned, Mr. Garrity. That's what we're talking about now," Tim smiles. Firmly.
"You're going to be working with Coach Taylor. . . ."
"Yes, sir, I am."
"Coaching football, huh," Buddy says. He appears to be deep in thought.
"Yes, Mr. Garrity."
"College football, huh," Buddy isn't really conversing with Tim, as much as thinking aloud.
Tim doesn't respond. He and Lyla look at each other; Lyla shrugs.
"Well, that's - that's great news, son," Buddy finally breaks into a smile and reaches out to shake Tim's hand, clapping him on the back simultaneously. "I just can't believe - can't believe that Eric didn't say anything. We're very close, you know," he looks at Tim.
"Oh, I know, sir," Tim says quickly, "It just happened yesterday, so . . . you know, probably not enough time to share the news," he smiles politely.
"Right, right, that must be it," Buddy agrees. "Well, this is . . . this is great news," he looks back and forth between Tim and Lyla. "I must admit - I'm - I'm somewhat stunned here," he says. "I just - well, we have to celebrate. We have to celebrate. I'm - I'm running out now to deal with Panthers business," he gives Tim a knowing look, "but this weekend - you keep your calendars clear; we're going to have a good ole fashion Texas celebration at the club," Buddy nods and he heads to the front door.
"We'll invite everyone," Buddy calls behind him. Lyla and Tim follow him out of Lyla's room.
"Tim, you make sure the whole Riggins clan is there," Buddy waves his arm as he opens the front door. "And Angela. Angela Collette," he looks back and smiles. "I would most certainly like to celebrate with Angela."
Lyla wrinkles her nose, but remains silent.
"Will do, sir," Tim nods, glancing at Lyla. He still owes her a conversation about that. Tyra Collette.
"See you, kids," Buddy heads out the door. "Lock up for me, Lyla. And this weekend - Saturday night - let's say seven o'clock," he calls as he closes the door behind him.
Lyla locks the front door and turns around, leaning against it. "Looks like it's just us," she smiles up at Tim.
"Looks like it," he grins at her and heads toward her. He puts his arms around her, pulling her close. He leans down to kiss her. Lyla tastes him - the warmth, the wetness, the familiarity. She doesn't want him to stop.
"Mmm," she smiles, reaching up for him again. "I've missed that."
"I can do better," he smiles down at her warmly.
Lyla smiles, and gently pushes him back. "There is so much stuff we have to take care of, get in order," she says, as if she's suddenly realizing how much pressure is on them to get everything in place. "Like the realtor, and - god, there's just so much stuff to do. Three weeks!," she heads back to her bedroom.
Tim follows her back to her bedroom. He shuts the door behind them. "Hey," he says softly, pulling her over to him. "I know. We'll get it done. But tonight?" he pauses, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her nose. "Can't we just celebrate? By ourselves? No country club, no Riggins clan, no Buddy Garrity. Just us?" he whispers in her ear.
She can feel his breath against her skin; it sends shivers down her spine. "Twenty minutes, tops, I promise," Tim smiles slyly as he presses her tightly against him. "Ten, even. I can do it in ten."
Lyla laughs softly. "Oh really?" she raises an eyebrow, feeling the hardness of his body against her. "Ten?"
"Ten, promise," Tim kisses her neck.
"Okay, ten, and then . . ." Tim is already pushing her down on the bed, kissing her neck.
"Did you find it gross that my dad wanted to include Angela Collette in the big celebration, by the way?" Lyla murmurs as Tim pulls off her shirt.
Tim stops. The thing with Tyra. Damn it. "I don't know," he sighs, sitting up, "But I do find it kind of gross that you were just thinking about your dad and Angela Collette."
"Sorry, I'm - whatever, it's not my business," she looks sheepish, "and you're right - why would I possibly be thinking about that when I have a hot, hot - did I mention super hot - football player in my bed?" she pulls him down on top of her and tugs at his shirt.
"Wait," Tim says. He pushes himself off of her. Lyla sits up, too.
"What's wrong?" she looks confused. Tim grips the comforter in his fist, holding it tightly as he looks away from Lyla.
"I need to . . . tell you something. It's - when I left here the other day . . ." his voice trails off. "After I - after that."
"Yeah," Lyla nods.
"When I left, I didn't really know what to do, you know? I was angry, I was - I . . . I don't know," he shakes his head. "I just didn't want to think about it. Think about anything. I started drinking. Of course. I drank a lot," he looks at her.
Lyla doesn't respond. She waits for him to continue.
"And I was angry. Which, as you know, is not a great combination for me. Tyra came over. Tyra Collette. I didn't invite her - she just - she just showed up. To see how I was, I guess. It was - I mean, I'd disappeared to New Jersey, and I guess everyone was worried. Or something," he looks at Lyla. "I don't know."
Lyla is silent.
"And . . . I don't really know what I was thinking or - but I - nothing happened, but I did - I started something, I would've let it happen. We didn't - she freaked out, she stopped. I don't know what I was doing, Lyla. I didn't know what I was doing. I just - it felt good to not to give a shit, you know?" He looks at Lyla. "But nothing happened. And afterward, I - I was really glad that nothing happened. I'm sorry. I just needed you to know."
Lyla reaches out for him; she pulls him into her arms and hugs him. Tightly. Deeply. She feels his body relax against her. "I know," she finally says. "I mean, I know already. Tyra - she told me. . . . She couldn't wait to tell me," she adds.
Tim pulls away and narrows his eyes. "Tyra told you?" he sounds surprised. Annoyed.
"Yeah," Lyla replies. Her voice is soft, easy. "And I don't care, Tim. I mean, I care, but I know - I know that I hurt you, I know that I - that I put you in that situation," she sighs. "And I don't care what you did - or didn't do. I mean, I'm glad you didn't sleep with her," she says. "I'm so glad. But even if you had - even if you had, it would be okay. We would be okay." She pauses. "Is she in love with you?"
"I don't know," Tim replies honestly, shaking his head. "I think there's something there. I think she's looking for someone, something - maybe, I don't know," he pauses. "It doesn't matter, though," he looks at her. "Because you know that I'm madly in love with you, right? Always have been," he gives her a sheepish, lop-sided smile. It melts her heart.
Lyla smiles warmly at him. "I love you, too," she pulls his face close to her, leaning her forehead against his. They stay like that for a moment, just listening to the other breathe, feeling the warmth of each other's skin. Finally, Lyla pulls away. "And I'm so done thinking about all the stupid stuff we've done - I've done - lately. I just want to think about you finishing up your last year at San Antonio State - and graduating from college - college!," she shakes her head in happy disbelief, "moving to Austin with me, coaching football, and just - just being happy together, you know?"
Tim smiles. "I know," he kisses her softly and pushes her back down on the bed. "And that sounds pretty damn good, Miss Garrity. Pretty damn good."