[December 31, 1991]

Baylor played Indiana at the Copper Bowl in Arizona on New Year's Eve. It was the first bowl game the Bears had played since 1986.

The entire family was there – Mom, Pastor John, Mr. Taylor, Karen, baby Andrew, Julie, and even Shelley, who had returned from her European adventure in September and was now living in Austin with several roommates, teaching aerobics, and not applying for college. Eric's aunt and uncle had also driven from Oklahoma to join the excitement. Gretchen, like the troubled foster child of the family, had joined them as well, and she actually seemed excited for the game and the chance to watch Stumpy in it.

Little Andrew, at just three months old, was attending his first football game. He'd grown quickly once he got out of the NICU, and he was now bigger than Julie had been at four months. Currently, he was wrapped with a blanket, bunting style, and donned a Baylor snow cap. He rested in his father's arms.

"So this is your brother-in-law?" Shelley asked Tami, looking down at the baby. "Well….that's interesting."

Mr. Taylor shot Shelley an annoyed look.

Julie wore the scarf Tami's mom had made out of her old Baylor's onesie, though it was a rather short scarf at this point, and bit frayed from when she'd carried it about chewing on it at previous games. At any rate, any magical properties it might have possessed were now clearly gone.

In the first quarter, Indiana's quarterback scored a one-yard touchdown. Though Eric inched his team forward, the Bears couldn't seem to get on the board. In the second quarter, a field goal brought Indiana's total to 10, and that, followed by a 5-yard touchdown, gave Indiana a 17-0 lead going into the half.

"I thought the Bears were supposed to be a good team this season," Shelley said at halftime.

"They've won eight games this season," Gretchen told her. "Indiana's only won six. But the Hoosiers defense tonight…" She shook his head. "And that quarterback. Where did he come from? He wasn't this good earlier in the season."

Tami gave her a quizzical look. "I thought you didn't know anything about football?"

Gretchen shrugged. "I've been educating myself."

The pressure of Indiana's lead was clearly getting to Eric, because he fumbled the snap in the third quarter. The coach pulled him and put in the second string, who was not infrequently alternated with Eric, but he couldn't get anywhere either. In the fourth quarter, the coach pulled the second string and put in his third string, a new, more daring quarterback, a sophomore who had been given limited playtime in the past.

"He's desperate," Mr. Taylor muttered. "He's grasping at straws. He should go back to Eric. He shouldn't have pulled Eric in the first place. Slow and steady is the only way to get on the board tonight. Eric would have done it eventually. This other kid is a loose cannon."

Baylor's youngest quarterback made many dramatic attempts, but with undramatic results. Indiana's quarterback scored a 4-yard touchdown run, bringing the final score to 24-0.

Tami watched Eric walk across the field, head hung in shame, congratulating his conquerors.

[*]

Back at the hotel, Eric was in a foul mood, such a foul mood that Tami said, "Why don't you just leave and go down to the hotel bar and get a drink with your father? People are ringing in the New Year down there." It was only thirty minutes until midnight now.

"Because I don't want to talk to my father right now. He's just going to rake me over the coals about everything that went wrong in that game."

"Then go find Stumpy and get a drink with him."

"Gretchen's with him. I'm pretty sure they're…you know…busy right now."

"Right now, they're probably down at the bar getting ready to ring in the New Year." She looked at Julie, who was sleeping in one of the two double beds. Tami had stuck up a portable rail on one side, but she only had the one. She hoped Julie didn't roll the other direction and roll off the bed in the middle of the night.

"Why don't you go?" Eric asked. "Go get your sister, y'all go down to the bar and enjoy yourself. I'll stay with Julie."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll just flip channels and drink some overpriced beer from the minibar."

"You have a good time sulking, sugar."

She grabbed her purse and hightailed it to her sister's room, but Shelley didn't answer. She went down to the hotel bar, which was crowded with people waiting to ring in the New Year, and found Shelley standing at a high table with Stumpy and Gretchen.

"Hey! I made friends with your friends!" Shelley said.

Gretchen looked at Tami with an expression that said, Your sister deeply annoys me.

Tami joined them. Gretchen was drinking seltzer water. She was probably waiting for the New Year to drink her one glass of champagne. A bottle of bubbly sat in a bucket at the table.

Stumpy grabbed a passing waitress gently by the elbow, "We need another flute," he told her.

"I was telling them all about Europe," Shelley said.

Tami had already gotten an earful about Shelley's time in Europe, including a great deal of information about a certain dark-eyed Spaniard with whom Shelley had fallen hopelessly in love. They'd exchanged contact information, and he was planning to come see her sometime this spring, as soon as he could get a tourist visa. He was twenty-seven to Shelley's nineteen, and the age difference had horrified Tami, no matter how many times her sister tried to reassure her that they were "just so totally compatible."

Tami was glancing at the clock when Mr. Taylor's voice arose from behind her. "Might I join this party?"

Stumpy smirked. "I reckon you might could." He stepped aside from Tami so Mr. Taylor could stand between them.

"Keep making fun of my Texan eloquence and I won't buy y'all a second bottle of champagne."

"Another flute!" Stumpy hollered to a passing waitress.

"Where's Eric?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Brooding in our bedroom," Tami said.

"Well, I don't blame him," Stumpy said. "We did get our asses handed to us."

"You did your job well, though, Giovani," Mr. Taylor told him. "If you hadn't, they would have beat you by twice as much."

"Thanks….I think. Was that an insult or a compliment?"

"It was as you take it," Mr. Taylor said. "Are you putting in for the draft in January?"

"Nah. Unlike Eric, I won't be done with my degree in the spring. I'll wait until next year. Not that I'm crossing my fingers."

"No, you should cross your fingers," Mr. Taylor said. "That's how that works."

"You'll be crossing your fingers for Eric in April, then?" Stumpy asked.

"He doesn't need me to cross my fingers," Mr. Taylor answered.

"Well, uh…" Stumpy smiled hesitantly. "He didn't exactly go out with a bang with this bowl game."

"It's not his fault that coach pulled him before he had a chance to recover the score. The scouts are smart. They'll see that. I'm not worried about him getting drafted. He's not going to be picked up in the top six rounds, but he'll be picked up."

Stumpy gave Mr. Taylor a quizzical look that raised Tami's caution. Stumpy had often talked as though he thought Eric had a much better chance of making it to the NFL than he did, but he'd never actually said what he thought Eric's odds were. "Less than one in fifty college players ever make it to the NFL."

Mr. Taylor shrugged. "Yes, but how many college players are even worth considering? Eric's the starting quarterback for a decent team."

Stumpy shifted on one foot. "Yeah, sure, but…when only two percent make it to the pros…I mean, I'm no math genius, but – "

Gretchen put a hand on Stumpy's shoulder. "I bet if we get Tami's father-in-law drunk, he'll show us his tattoo."

"You have a tattoo?" Shelley asked, wide-eyed. "Where? What is it?

"My high school mascot," Mr. Taylor answered. "A decision I will forever regret. But I was drunk, and everyone was doing it."

"Well that's the best reason to do anything," Gretchen said with a smile.

"Tami, you have the most interesting friends," Mr. Taylor told her.

"Where is it?" Shelley insisted. "Someplace you can't show us?"

"Well he can," Gretchen said. "But he's too much a gentleman to go about flashing young ladies."

"Is it on your ass?" Shelley asked.

Tami buried her face in her hand.

"Give or take," Mr. Taylor said.

"What was your school mascot?" Shelley demanded to know.

"Well, that's where the regret really comes in," Mr. Taylor said.

Tami looked up from her hand, Gretchen snorted, and Stumpy smiled with his eyes. "Tell us," Stumpy insisted.

"It's uh…" Mr. Taylor coughed into his hand.

"A what?" Stumpy asked.

"A horny toad. A horny toad, a'ight?"

Stumpy's laugh was a deep rumble.

"It was the worst mascot on the face of the earth," Mr. Taylor said, "but we thought it was hilarious. At the time."

"You know, you can get those removed these days," Gretchen told him.

"Too much trouble," Mr. Taylor told her. "And it amuses my wife."

A bunch of people shouted, "20!"

"Oh, we're counting down!" Shelley announced.

"From 20?" Gretchen asked.

"18!"

"Well, get the champagne ready, big boy," Gretchen insisted, and Stumpy took it from the bucket and began twisting.

"15!"

"14!" Shelley shouted, but no one else joined in until they got to "10," when the entire table chanted down to 1, at which point people started blowing horns and corks were popping all around the bar. Stumpy poured as the champagne fizzed out of the bottle. It was nearly empty by the time he filled and then topped off all five flutes.

"Did you know my sister is under age?" Tami asked Stumpy.

"Relax, Tami," Shelley instead. "It's New Year's Eve. And the drinking age most places in Europe is 16 or 18. I drank all year long."

They toasted and drank, and Mr. Taylor did order another bottle, not of champagne this time, but Chardonnay.

"So what are you doing with yourself next, Shelley?" Tami asked her sister.

"What do you mean? I'm living in Austin, teaching aerobics."

"I mean for your future. When are you going to school? What for?"

"Oh, Tami, you and school. School. School. School. Mr. Taylor didn't go to school, and look at how successful he is."

"He has a skill, Shelley," Tami said. "An in-demand skill. Several of them."

Mr. Taylor busied himself with pouring the Chardonnay. Gretchen declined, but Stumpy nodded, and Tami pushed her glass forward. So did Shelley.

"I don't have time for school right now," Shelley said. "When Javier comes, I need to show him around America. We might even take a cross-country road trip."

"And who's paying for all that?" Tami hoped to God Pastor John had put his foot down and cut her off by now. "Not Pastor John?"

"No. John gave me a little seed money when I got back from Europe for my first month's rent and told me that was it. I'm completely on my own now. I mean, not that he'll kick me to the curb if I'm starving, but I got the message. Javier will pay for it all. He's done well for himself."

"What does he do, exactly?" Tami asked.

"Textiles."

"That's code for drug smuggling," Gretchen told her. Stumpy laughed.

"He is not a drug smuggler," Shelley insisted, swirling her wine glass with mock sophistication. "He imports and exports textiles."

Mr. Taylor drained his wine glass. "I need to get back to my room before my wife notices I'm gone."

"You snuck out?" Stumpy asked.

"I told her I was going to fill the ice bucket. Y'all have a Happy New Year." He pointed to the bottle. "There's one glass left." He disappeared through the crowd.

"How long did you have to get to know this guy, Shelley?" Tami asked.

"I was in Spain for an entire month. He was our guide."

"Why was he your guide if he's in the textile import business?"

"It's a sideline," Shelley said, as though it should have been obvious.

"Wait," Stumpy said. "Mr. Taylor didn't pay for that wine. Sneaky."

A waitress stopped to see if they needed anything else. "How much was that wine?" Stumpy asked.

"Oh, the man who just left paid for it already," she said. "And he also paid for the champagne you ordered. And he said to bring y'all a bottle of red."

"Hmmm…" Stumpy said when she left, nodding knowingly to Tami. "Maybe your father-in-law is the one in the drug business."