Chapter 9

An eerie silence descended on the vehicle until they reached the restaurant when Louisa Bond's husband and children waited. Brock got out to unload Louisa's bags while she hugged her family.

"Brock Miller," Louisa's husband announced. "Damn."

He turned to the two boys who appeared to be around six or seven years old.

"Tate, Drew, look, it's Brock Miller from the Dodgers," he said. The man seemed more excited to see Brock than he was to see his wife. If Chastity's revelation was any indication of what life on the women's soccer team was like, Brock could understand why.

The two boys waved but returned their attention to their mother.

"Can I get an autograph – for the boys?" Dave Bond asked.

Brock signed the paper and got back in the car as his cell phone rang. He noticed Chastity had moved to the front seat but was sitting as far away from him as possible.

"Brock, this is J.C. Michaels," a voice said when he answered the phone.

"Oh, hi, J.C.," Brock replied. Michaels was headed to the All-Star game after posting 11 wins in the first half of the season.

"I know it's short notice but, well, I need a favor," J.C. told him.

"Sure, if I can," Brock replied automatically.

"I tweaked my shoulder when I was doing my mid-start tosses today," he said. "I'm in L.A. to see a specialist tomorrow and I wondered if you would mind if I stayed at the house. I hate to rent a hotel room and I figured that since you're home for the break it wouldn't be a problem."

Brock closed his eyes and let out a breath. He couldn't really tell J.C. no.

"It's no problem with me but I want to warn you, it might be hectic," Brock replied.

"Hectic?" J.C. wondered. Their agent had told J.C. that Brock Miller wasn't the type who would destroy the house. He hoped the guy wasn't hosting wild parties. J.C.'s house in L.A. was worth more than every piece of property combined in a 15-mile radius of the North Carolina trailer park where he grew up.

"Uh, well," Brock began. "Crap. Look, J.C., a bunch of my friends surprised me by showing up unannounced. I have a houseful and at least one more on the way. Do you mind sharing a house with seven gorgeous women?"

Brock actually heard J.C. gulp on the other end of the phone.

"Seven gorgeous women?" J.C. wondered aloud before he caught himself. "Uh, well, no. I don't mind. They won't mind me being there will they? I won't uh, well, uh, be in the way or anything?"

Brock found himself laughing aloud.

"I doubt that, once they get to talking, they will even know that you or I is there," he said. "Four of them know each other well. The fifth one knows the other four slightly. A couple won't know everyone. But Randi knows you and one of the others and the other knows me so they'll be OK."

"Randi?" J.C. asked. "From next door?"

"The very same," Brock replied. "She's become fast friends with one of my old friends from high school. They go to the games together."

"Well, if you're sure," J.C. said. His house had enough bedrooms that everyone could have one if a couple people shared. "I'll be there as soon as I get a rental car."

"I'm about 10 minutes from the airport," Brock said. "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I thought you guys got in hours ago?" J.C. asked.

"We did but I had to go out and get my friend, Chastity," Brock told him. "There are already three cars at the house. You can take mine into your appointment."

"Chastity?" J.C. asked. "Chastity Durant? From the soccer team?"

"One and the same," Brock said. "I guess you didn't hear. There was a minor revolt on the national team and she is staying out here until they get it resolved. So, should I come to get you? You can meet Chastity before we get back to the house."

"That sounds great, Brock," J.C. replied. "And thanks. Stan said you were a great guy."

"He said the same thing about you," Brock answered. "It will be great to meet you."

Brock headed back to the airport after he explained the situation to Chastity.

"We're not going to get much of a chance to talk before they leave, are we?" she asked.

"I figured you would be the first one to go," Brock told her. "I mean, you know, I figured that the national team will give in pretty quickly. I think they have to. Besides, what do we have to really talk about?"

"Us," Chastity said.

"There can't really be an 'us', Chas," Brock said. There was sadness in his voice. "At least not for a while. Maybe in a few years but not now. We're both too young and I guess I'm too insecure to date someone I only see twice a year."

"What if I don't go back to the national team?" she wondered.

"You'd hate me in six months," Brock replied. "The same way if I gave up my spot in the Majors to do IT work in Miami. We just have to face the fact that it won't work out for us right now."

"But you're not saying it won't ever work out, are you?" Chastity asked.

Brock pondered his answer.

"I don't know," he admitted. "A lot might have changed by the time we're both in a position to give it a try. But if we hit that point and we still want to, I don't see why we shouldn't give it a shot."

"Even after what I told you?" Chastity queried. She wanted to let the subject die but she also needed an answer.

Again Brock was silent. Part of it was that he was concentrating on his driving but he was also trying to formulate an answer. Finally, he sighed.

"You didn't actually tell me," he pointed out. "You let it slip when you mistook the subject matter. Short of that, I might never have known. That makes a difference. I guess what troubles me the most is that you let it happen. You didn't stand up for yourself. You put your spot on a soccer team higher than you put your self-worth. That tells me that you probably aren't who I thought you were. I guess that's my biggest problem with all of this. The Chastity Durant I grew to love in Buffalo would have told her Coach to get bent if something like this was suggested. Instead, not only did you go along with it, I suspect you allowed it to happen to others on the team as well."

"I told you I had no choice!" Chastity practically shouted.

"And I'm sure you believe that," Brock replied evenly. "But you're wrong. We've already established that you did have choices – viable choices. Can you imagine the media outrage if it got out that the coach of the U.S. Women's Soccer Team expected her players to 'date' sponsors? Good God, the soccer federation would have no choice but to fire the woman. She wouldn't be able to get a job coaching fourth- and fifth-graders afterward. But instead you tucked your tail between your legs and did whatever she wanted regardless of whether it was what was right for you."

"Go ahead and say it," Chastity said bitterly. "I know you're thinking it."

"Say what?" Brock asked.

"Just like I do with my mother," Chastity seethed.

Brock shrugged. It was exactly what he was thinking but he hadn't wanted to say it.

"You never understood, did you?" Chastity asked softly.

"I still don't, I guess," Brock answered, "because I have no idea what you're talking about."

"In Buffalo, I stood up to my Mom because you were there," Chastity said. "I fed off your strength and it made me strong enough to break away from her. But I'm not that strong, Brock. I'm not like you. I couldn't have survived what you've survived. Since the time I was six years old, I was taught that you don't question the coach. It's all I know: The coach is always right. I don't know how to stand up for myself unless I have someone to stand beside me. If the others hadn't gotten fed up and walked out, I would still be there today. On the soccer field, I know where to go and how to lead. But in real life, I don't. That's why I need you in my life."

Brock would have liked to have continued the conversation but they had arrived at LAX. J.C. hadn't attracted the attention of the photographers and he was waiting outside the terminal. Although he and Brock had never met, Brock recognized him.

When Brock stopped, Chastity opened her door to get into the backseat.

"Stay up front," J.C. said with a wide smile. "I'll pretend this is a limo and Brock is my driver."

He got in and reached up to shake Brock's hand.

"Really nice to meet you," he said. "Thanks a lot."

After J.C. shook Brock's hand he extended his hand to Chastity.

"You, too, Miss Durant," he said. "I'm a big fan."

"Thanks," Chastity said sweetly. "I followed your career when you first came up. I was at Arizona then. I actually got to see you pitch one of your first games. The D'backs were recognizing our national championship team and you were pitching for the Dodgers that night."

"I remember," J.C. replied with a smile. "My second big league start. They lit me up like a Christmas tree. Oh well, it's happened a few times since then."

"Not this year," Brock chimed in. "What are you 11-2 or something?"

"Eleven-and-three," J.C. corrected. "Kansas City got me Thursday night. You're doing pretty well, too, from what I read. How's the house?"

"Big," Brock replied with a laugh. He had taken his cue from Chastity. She was acting as though they weren't having a serious discussion as they arrived so he figured he should too. "I had to call Al Perez once to give me directions from the bathroom to the kitchen."

J.C. and Chastity both chuckled.

"Chas, you remember the apartment in Buffalo?" Brock asked.

"Of course," Chastity responded.

"It would fit in the living room of this place," Brock told her. "I mean the whole apartment, bedrooms and all."

"I know," Chastity said with a smile. "You sent me a thousand pictures when you first got out here. I thought it was overkill until I figured out there wasn't a duplicate in the bunch."

"So the rumors aren't true then?" J.C. asked, sitting up in the backseat. "You guys didn't break up?"

"We're friends," Brock answered before Chastity could. "We realized it just wasn't possible to continue the way we were going. Sooner or later once of us would have been left to make a choice and that choice would have led to hard feelings. We had a great time together but it didn't work out."

"That's too bad," J.C. said sincerely. "Still, at least you're friends. If you had told me to get lost, there is no way I could call one of my old girlfriends from out here. I would have had to sleep with one eye open."

"Oh, Brock probably should, too," Chastity replied with a small smile.

Brock cast her a crossways glance.

"I'm not the only ex-girlfriend who will be there," Chastity continued. "In fact, I think outside of Randi – which might be just be a ruse – all of the women there have dated Brock at some point and time. Isn't that right, Brock?"