Chapter 24

On Saturday morning, the girls got a phone call. It was an unusually warm Indian summer day in November and the Bears were playing at home the next day. The pre-game practice wrapped up at noon so Ron and Mike asked if the girls cared to prepare a picnic.

They went out to a park near the lake front. The men had a football with them and were throwing it around. While sitting on a blanket they ate the picnic lunch the girls prepared. Mike was amazed at the change in Susan's appearance. Today, she looked totally different from the way she did on their first meeting. The night before she had been poised and elegant; today she looked like a hoyden. She was wearing skin-tight Levi's, a Smith College sweatshirt, and had her hair tied back in a pony tail. Mike remembered the magnificent female body he had seen in the painting. He could see the painter certainly got her legs right. He hoped the rest of her was as accurately depicted.

When they finished eating, Susan challenged the men to a two-man touch football game. To even it, it would be two hands for the men but only one for the girls. Mike and Ron slapped hands and agreed at once. As a further concession, they gave the ball to the girls and agreed the men couldn't rush the passer at top speed. Susan whispered to April and she nodded eagerly. They had marked out the four corners of a fifty-yard field and put it in play on the twenty yard line.

Mike was up close to the ball while Ron was playing his normal safety position a little off the line. When Susan centered the ball to April, Ron was poised on her right. April started to run left and Mike moved to head her off. Before he had taken two steps, Susan cut him down with a block on his ankles. He went down on his face. Meanwhile, Ron had slowed figuring Mike would catch her. He chased her, but April was running like a scared deer and easily outran him to score a touchdown.

Susan sat up and wiped dirt off her face, laughing. Mike sat up and sheepishly wiped himself off. "What did you do, young lady?" he asked with a sheepish grin on his face.

Susan's eyes were dancing as she said, "It's called a cross-body block, isn't it?" She rubbed her side ruefully and added, "It hurts." Mike just grinned and shook his head, then extended his hands to help her up.

On his first possession, Susan gave him fits. On the first play, she tagged him for a loss; on the second, she batted the pass away; and on third down he overthrew Ron because he had to throw so high to clear her upthrust arms. She daintily stuck out her tongue as he punted the ball. Although he did no kicking for the Bears, Mike was an excellent punter. He boomed the ball far past the end of the field and was told to go and retrieve it for his troubles.

Getting the ball back, April centered it to Susan who sidestepped Mike's rush. She lofted a perfect pass that April took on her fingertips running at full speed and ran in for another touchdown. By this time other people walking in the park on the brilliant late fall day were stopping to watch. Several thought they recognized Mike Cassidy, but no one was sure if it was really him. When they finally quit, the women were ahead by three touchdowns.

Susan hobbled over to their blanket. In spite of the time of year, she and April had been playing barefoot. April took four beers from their cooler and passed them out. Mike collapsed on his back and Susan used his stomach for a head rest. He looked at her and just shook his head. "Where in hell did you learn to throw a football? You're really good. God, I wish I had your timing. For that matter, I would give my left arm for a receiver like April. How long have you girls been practicing, anyway?"

"This is the first time I've ever thrown a football with April," Susan replied with a grin. "On the other hand, I've seen her nude body often enough to know that she's nothing but satin skin over highly-conditioned muscles. There's not an ounce of fat on her. I figured she might be fast, and she sure is, isn't she?"

Mike raised his voice and said, "Ron, you have to marry April. Can you imagine trying to cover her if some other team finds out how good she is and drafts her? Isn't there some league rule that husbands and wives have to play on the same team?"

Looking down at Susan, he said softly, "I'll have to marry you, too. I'm not worrying about another team. I'm worrying about the Bears. Susan, you're a better quarterback than I am. You're more agile, you're faster and you throw the ball better. How did you learn?"

While he was talking he had put his hand on her sweatshirt and cupped her breast in his hand. It was a very firm handful and she was not wearing a bra. She ignored it except for making a small happy noise deep in her body. "Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked softly.

"About your hand on my tit? No, not unless you complain about my head on your stomach. Besides, it feels good." She looked up at him and said, "If a girl isn't going to sleep with a guy, she had better learn to run fast. I do. As for passing, I picked it up by studying my favorite quarterback."

"Who is that?" Mike asked.

"Michael Cassidy," she replied impassively. "He used to play at Illinois and is playing in the pros now. He used to be pretty good."

"Used to be? Come on, young lady. Let's see if you can catch the ball." Mike picked up the football and trotted back on the field with Susan following. Mike was utterly astonished at what followed. She ran pass patterns perfectly, whether a hook, a post, a fly, or a sideline. She caught one sideline pass on her fingertips with only the toes of both feet still in bounds.

Then she said, "Now let's see if you can run with that big beer gut. But be careful. The quarterback has his image to protect: never getting his uniform dirty." By this time Susan's clothes were covered with dirt, leaves, twigs, and a little mud where she slid on a wet spot. She looked absolutely beautiful.

Again, he was astonished at her performance. She took a pro drop, looked straight down the field and put the ball in his hands wherever he was. She never appeared to look at him. Even when he ran fly patterns at full speed Susan put the ball lightly on his fingertips. Once he took her pass in one hand because she threw such a soft pass that was so easy to catch. On one pass that dropped incomplete, he was supposed to take five steps and took seven. The ball was right where he should have been.

Finally, with Mike gasping for breath, they quit. Mike had his hands on his knees and was breathing hard. He gasped, "You win. Susan, you are great."

"Terrific! If I won, you have to carry me back to the blanket." He picked her up and found she felt wonderful in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder. When they got to the blanket, April looked up and said, "What's this? Who is that urchin you found, Mike?"

He grinned and replied, "I'm not sure, but she's the best damned passer in Chicago, bar none! Did you see what she was throwing? And catching? Ron, we should do so well."

Ron's head was on April's lap. He opened one eye and said, "She's fine with me. I'm defense. We're always in favor of good quarterbacks. Of course, it's not my job she's taking."

After showering at the apartment the men took them out for pizza. At dinner Mike was moving his shoulder. He said, "Susan, thank you. You helped me a lot today. You really did. I watched you and saw me when I was good. It reminded me of changes I have to make. Are you coming to the game tomorrow?"

She said they were planning to. Susan didn't say that they were guests of the owner and would be watching from his box.

That night at the door of the Jefferson's apartment, Mike took Susan in his arms and kissed her. It was like no kiss either had ever had. There was sweetness and warmth, but at the same time there was electricity flowing between them and bells.

When he slowly released her, she slapped his face hard, glared at him and exclaimed, "I am not in your damned meat market, Cassidy!"

She slammed the door in his face and then leaned back against the door to try to recover from his kiss. Meanwhile, Mike was whistling brightly as he walked to the elevator, rubbing the bright red mark her hand had left on his face.

The next day at the game, Susan was introduced to Cindy and Dan Burke who were also the owner's guests. Dan sat in the back row talking quietly with Mike McCaskey while the girls watched the game. Chicago was playing the Vikings; in their first meeting Chicago had won 9-0 on three field goals. The Bear's record was now 10-2; through the first half of the season, the team won with its defense. If an opponent scored two touchdowns, the Bears were in trouble. The offense had been a no-show through the season to that point.

The Vikings received the opening kickoff and sustained a drive the length of the field. Dan shook his head; there was nothing the Bears could do. The play pattern consisted of running plays interspersed with short play-action passes. The Bears defense was playing furiously, but the Viking quarterback was six for six in the drive. Before the Bears got their hands on the ball, they were trailing 7-0. It looked like it was going to be a very long afternoon.

On the first play from scrimmage at the Bear's 8 yard line — the Bear's had been called for holding on the kickoff return — Mike Cassidy faked a handoff to his running back into the line, rolled to his right on a bootleg and completed a pass to his fleet wide receiver flying down the left sideline. The pass covered more than 60 yards in the air. The receiver, Sammy Johnson, took it on his fingers without breaking stride and crossed the goal line untouched. It was the longest play from scrimmage the Bears had run in more than five years.

Susan was on her feet screaming as soon as Mike unleashed the pass. She was jumping up and down as Johnson just ran away from the covering cornerback. The safety had taken the play fake and had come up to assist against the expected run so the corner had no support.

Mike had his best game at quarterback in three years. He threw for only 280 yards, but completed twelve of the fourteen passes he threw. By the time the game was winding down Susan was hoarse from screaming. April looked at her, shook her head, and said, "Susan, you're not behaving in a very dignified fashion." She turned to Cindy and asked, "Slave Cindy, what do you think?"

Cindy had been screaming, too. She had come to like Susan very much in just the very short time they had known each other. Her eyes were dancing as she said, "I guess it's what I would do if Burke were out on the field. Of course, April, it is rather unprofessional for an agent to behave that way, too, isn't it? I'm sure you bruised your left hand. Every time Ron makes a play, you slam your right fist into your left hand and make atrocious noises!"