Just A Heart Away

Chapter One

Chapter One



    An assortment of multicolored buds stared mockingly up at Tess Calebow, reminding her of the long hours it would take for her to tend to her senior neighbors gardens after she was finished mowing the lawn to the degree of perfection Ms. Rivers would be satisfied with. Sometimes, she swore, not even a visit from her snooty daughter-in-law towing along bags and bags of millions could make this woman anywhere near happy enough, let alone even summon a smile out of her. Unfortunately, there were few things in life that she did enjoy including making Tess do all her lawn maintenance for free and talking about things that irritated her- or just talking in general.
    "...They don't even hold the door for others before they just barge right in wherever the hell they wanna, cussin' and stirrin' up a fit wherever they please," she huffed, swiping at a strand of nonexistent long hair that she may or may not have had in her prime. "They never say thank you or please or ask how others are unless, of course, they want something from someone else they can't get themselves..."
    Although an unpleasant, shrill sound bleated into the air like an overpopulated herd of goats, it was still much more welcomed than Ms. Rivers talking her ear off. Standing up straight she hastily shut the mower off and turned to the woman calm and relaxed on the porch, looking clean and wide awake in her knit polyester cardigan and floral skirts. Gathering her scruples, Tess lifted her chin in the air and looked the elderly woman right in the pair of her beady grey eyes framed by thick, amber glasses. "That sound's important, I should probably take it."
    Ms. Rivers didn't bite, and the curtains of old, wrinkled skin on her neck jiggled as she shook her head haughtily."You know what that sounds like to me? Slacking. If a woman-meant to be cutting my lawn-has her ear hung up on that useless monstrosity, she is not working. It also sounds like the work of an ungrateful youngen who finds joy out of irritating ol' folks like myself."
    "Then hats off to that fine fella'," Tess smiled sweetly and hurriedly walked to her own neighboring home. It was a tad small for anyone other than a single, hardworking-or hardly working depending on how one looked at it,busy young woman like herself. With white trim and brick the house was adorable in an old victorian sort of manner. White lace curtains billowed against the pressure of the working AC indoors, intricate little knicknacks were displayed within the ledge of the window and with the modern-sprinkled-with-a-dash of retro styled furniture, one was able to appreciate the well thought out, fine work even with an outsiders point of view. But it wasn't the appearance that mattered most to Tess, it was the comfort level. Growing up in the Calebow house guaranteed a sense of family and the quality home in which a proper, close-knit family should be raised and developed surrrounded by. Meaning that with some Calebow background, Tess was practically a natural born interior designer.
    By the time she reached the white cordless phone strung up on the mint green walls of the entrance foyer, the voicemail had already picked up. Filling up a greedy glass of water into her favorite mickey-mouse plastic cup, Tess listened to Aunt Molly's soothing voice that was edged with excitment while nourishing her parched lips, dry mouth and raw throat. And people said sex was one of life's most basic pleasures. Tell that to a dehydrated sucker who had to work 12-hour shifts tending to her fussy neighbors lawn.
    "Tess, I have some crazy news," Molly began, and Tess rolled her eyes at the irony. Cosidering the fact that her favorite-and only-aunt was a certifiable lunatic, no news was ordinary news in her books. "Call back as soon as you get this."
    With a beligerent sigh, she gulped down the rest of the heavenly liquid and redialed Molly's number.She picked up on the first ring as if she had nothing better to do than to try...and fail...to spread her certain brand of crazy around down on her neice by waiting next to the phone until she heard back from her. "Hey," Tess smiled despite herself.
    "Okay...so you remember the ancient physiotherapist that practically coughed up dust and recited passages from the bible as if he were really there, Dr. Kenny, right? Well, he finally tackled his RSP's and retired...." she began excitedly. Her husband, retired NFL star and current coach of The Chicago Stars, Kevin Tucker's voice echoed impatiently from the background. Tess couldn't help but smile. "Okay, well Benny- Kev here would rather pass on the good news. Unless....?"
    Rolling her eyes, she knew not to kick her foot in her mouth and say anything that would land her in the no-mans land of a world-war-three-worthy argument between these two and said, loud enough for her uncle to here over his immature wifes bickering. "Hey Uncle Benny, how's it hangin'?"
    A chuckle cleared up any clashing antlers and the peppery assault of sheer noise that came with the hasty movement of the oppoing receiver blared in her ears. "Hey there, Sniper."
    The old nickname earned him another obvious eye roll. It came with being an athletic young girl who challenged one of America's most fine peices of sporty meat in the devision of talent when it came to any sport. Of course that was a bit of a stretch but her entire family always raved about her wheels and precise accuracy with whatever object an activity required, so hearing an amusing commercial about a soccer mom screaming at her daughter across the field "thats my sniper!' really sticked. And it was humiliating. "Shut up and tell me the deets of another one of Aunt Molly's episodes."
    "I heard that you little brat!"
    "Well, Tess, an escape from that hag you call Ms. Rivers has finally come up. As big mouth here already told you, the Stars personal physiotherapist retired and theres a job offer open and waiting for you if you want it.Just give me the magic word, and it;s all yours. Dr. Calebow of the Chicago Stars, under the recruit of everything great about America, Coach Tucker," he chuckled self depricatingly. Seriously, she was starting to get dizzy from all the visual action her eyes were taking on from conversing with these weird, certifiable relatives of hers. But her inner comedian shut up and the reality of what this psycho had said finally hit her with the force of an oncoming freight train.
    Trying to suck in deep, sturdy breaths, she clutched onto the marble countertops to support her body weight. She couldn't remember ever feeling this heavy. She could've challenged a pregnant hippo if the desire ever rose, not that it ever would. After watching the Discovery Channel excessively as a child, she learned that those plump slippery creatures weren't as friendly and cuddly as they appeared to be-.
    She was stalling. Her future seemed to fly by her eyes in an epic sweep that rattled her down to the bone marrow currently producing blood cells within her body's system. This opportunity would never rise again, and if she decided that cutting lawns and weeding thorny gardens for an even pricklier lady was what she really wanted to do- suiddenly her mind was made up. Even though she couldn't even recall a reason why she wouldn't accept such a leap in the professional views of her life.
    "Yes," she licked her lips, voice coming out hoarse and scraggly. Tess wouldn't have doubted if he hadn't heard her at all. "Yes, I want it!"
    Now she was practically shouting from the glee of her joyous situation. With limited experience in the real world with physiotherapy outside her studies in UT, she couldn't imagine any other possibility she could have even had a chance for this occupation other than the fact that her brother now owned he Star's after her mother passed it down to him, and her uncle was the head coach.She had all the connections. But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that this wasn't some sort of sick joke her aunt and uncle had decided to play on her just for kicks. Although Tess couldn't imagine them ever doing that to her, she shouldn't put it passed loonies like them.
    "Louder," Kevin commanded, the coaching authority underlining his deep voice. "I want you to say it with the volumous conviction of a young girl who just landed herself a position within the staff of the greatest football team in the NFL, the Chicago Stars!"
    "I WANT THE JOB!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. She could practically hear Ms. River's chin-flabs swinging and her throaty complaints about the disrespect any heterosexual with a tid bit of youth still ripening their features displayed.A smug smile stretched her already spread lips. "I WANT THE JOB!"
    "Good, now there's only two weeks left before the boy's head back for some trainin' before the preseason begins and their will be checkups held at the first practice, which is on the tuesday. You'll need to be there with Dr. Reinwell to introduce some stretches and excercises to those with any problems involving the limits of your degree," Kevin explained, his voice all business now. "Also, were holding a celebration dinner this friday with everyone, you better be there, seeing as it is for you."
    Tess beamed even though he couldn't see how pleased she was. "Wouldn't miss it."
    They hung up with short goodbyes and promises to see each other soon. But even the extended conversation that had nothing to do with her new job, football or the stars, she was still buzzing with excitment. Letting out a squeak, she started swaying around the room committing a faultless crime of expressing her happiness by busting some serious moves. From the corner of her eyes she saw Franky, her overweight, slanty eyed fluffy persian cat trot into the room and she scooped him up despite the strian in her arm muscles. She made a mental note to put him on a diet to shed as much of the flub he contained as the amount of fur that tumbled off him in clumps. She eyed him in contempt.
    "Franklin, mister, you have a serious case of generous fur. But don't worry bud, I'll let you stick around so we can work on that.I know, my neglectful memory for your dinnertime isn't always the most accountable, but I'm sick of pulling out the ol' swiffer just to make sure my house doesn't look like a pet store."