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Tight End
Bonus Chapter

Taylor
17 Years Later

I stood backstage, behind the curtain, so I would be blocked by the audience but still able to see everything on stage. I was a bundle of nervous energy—for a whole bunch of different reasons.
Brody was standing on stage behind the host podium while an assistant adjusted his tie. Across from him were three contestant podiums, and behind him was a huge board filled with blue squares and white letters. 


Brody’s microphone was on, so his voice carried through the studio as he muttered to himself. “Welcome to Jeopardy. I’m your guest-host, Brody Carter. Welcome to Jeopardy. Welcome to Jeopardy.” 


A stage manager with a headset approached him. “Okay, let’s run through some practice questions. Pretend I’m a contestant. State Capitals for six hundred.” 


Brody looked down at the podium, where a computer screen was prompting him what to say. He cleared his throat and said, “Although flanked on either side by larger cities Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, this state capital lies closer to the center of the state.” 


The stage manager replied, “What is Harrisburg.” 


“That’s correct.” 


He nodded. “Next time, emphasize the end of the question a little more. That helps the contestants know their buzzers are about to activate. State Capitals for eight hundred.” 


I watched them practice and smiled to myself. My heart swelled with pride to see Brody up there. He had retired from football five years ago. The first year he spent relaxing at home. Playing a lot of golf. Enjoying his time off. 


But then he got restless. He signed on with Fox to become an in-game broadcaster, but quit after one year. He was good at it, but he didn’t really like being a talking head. He said talking about football just made him want to get down on the field and play football. 


After that, Dallas Lockett convinced him to move to Allen, Texas and help coach high school football. The move was easy for us—especially once I was able to get a position at Southern Methodist University, which had a burgeoning archaeology department. Brody was in his element as a coach, and I knew it was what he would probably do for the rest of his life. His positive personality and easy charm made him perfect for it. 


But when Jeopardy called and said they were looking for new guest-hosts, he practically dropped the phone in his hurry to accept.


On stage, Brody was nodding to the man with the headset. “I’m ready. Let’s do it, partner.” 


“Bring in the contestants,” the stage manager said. “We go live in five!” 


Brody sighed deeply, then looked around. His eyes met mine and a huge, confident smile spread on his face. I flashed him a thumbs-up, and he seemed to stand up a little straighter.


My daughter, Christy, appeared next to me. “How long is this going to take?” she asked, never taking her eyes from her cell phone.


“It hasn’t even started yet,” I replied. “You’re bored already?”


“I’m just asking,” she replied with her typical teenager attitude. Her thumbs continued tapping on the phone.


“How’s Austin?” I asked.


Now her eyes cut up to mine. She gave me an annoyed face. One of the things I loved about being a mom was the ease with which I could embarrass my daughter.


The Austin she was texting with was Austin Lockett, the son of Dallas and Kim. When we first moved to Texas four years ago, Christy and Austin didn’t really pay attention to each other. They were a year apart, and didn’t really have much in common. But since the new school year started, suddenly the two of them were texting and hanging out more frequently.


When I mentioned it to Brody a month ago, he indelicately replied, “Oh yeah. They’re totally making out and stuff.”


A week after that, Brody sat Austin down and gave him the talk about his daughter. “Putting the fear of God in him,” was how Brody described the discussion. The fact that he calmly cleaned his shotgun while talking to Austin probably had a greater effect than the words themselves. 


I could hardly contain my excitement. Dallas and Kim were our best friends, and lived down the street in our neighborhood. If our kids got together…


I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself.


The Jeopardy contestants walked up to their podiums and signed their names. The tech crews all scrambled around in preparation for filming. From the audience’s perspective, everything looked organized and tidy, but from my vantage I could see all the chaos behind the scenes. 


The Jeopardy music played throughout the studio. Brody was announced, and he strode on stage to applause. “Welcome to Jeopardy. I’m your guest-host, Brody Carter. Jason is back this week on a three-day winning streak, but he’s challenged by Amanda and Jen.” 


Brody was kind of awkward at first. He wasn’t bad, he just didn’t seem as natural and charismatic as the Brody Carter I knew and loved. But just like in a football game, he quickly found his groove. Soon he had settled into a nice rhythm with the contestants as they completed the first round, then double-Jeopardy, and then the final round.


Jeopardy filmed five episodes per day, so after a quick wardrobe change for Brody and the winning contestant, they immediately started another game. Brody was totally relaxed and in his element now, making jokes occasionally with his charming Texas twang while keeping the game moving. After three filmed games, he sighed happily and walked off stage in my direction.


“You’re up, babe,” he said.


“I’m nervous!” I replied.


He took my in his arms, which were every bit as strong as they were when he played football. “You’re approximatively a billion times smarter than me.”


“And one tenth as charismatic.” 


He shook his head. “Now I know that ain’t true. You’ll do fine.”


He tried to kiss me, but the makeup guy quickly started fussing at us. “She goes on in five! Don’t smear her foundation!” 


Brody gave him a look. “You’ll just have to redo it, pal, because nothing’s stopping me from doing this.” 


I yelped as Brody dipped me low like we were ballroom dancing, lips crushing against mine in a deep kiss. For a few seconds, while suspended in his arms, I forgot all about my nervousness.


The makeup guy crossed his arms and tapped his foot until we were done. “No kiss is worth making me re-do all of my work. Not even one from you, Mr. Carter.” 


“I beg to differ,” I said with a smile.


The makeup guy make a loud harrumph, and then resumed fixing my face.


My own fame had increased since Brody and I got married. To the media, I was an unexplainable oddity. A cheerleader and a college professor? Who was married to football’s favorite tight end? The tabloids were obsessed with us, and our photos were always in the magazines at the grocery check-out counter. Salt Lake City’s biggest power couple. That fame spread to the national level after they won their first Super Bowl. 


When Brody retired and eventually received the phone call asking him to guest-host Jeopardy, he hesitated. “Only if my stunning wife gets to host a few games, too,” he said. 


I remember dropping my book in shock. Especially when they agreed. 


“Hell, we only met because of trivia,” he had told me that night. “Might as well host Jeopardy together!” 


Back stage at the studio, Brody wrapped Christy in a huge hug, forcing her to put the phone down for a moment. “Wish your momma good luck,” he said. 


“Good luck, or whatever,” Christy said. From the brooding teenager, that was as good as applause.
“Atta girl.” Brody kissed our daughter in her red curls and turned to me. “Go get ‘em, babe.” 


The lights seemed to get significantly brighter as I walked on stage, and I had to force myself not to squint. Tingles of excitement ran through my legs as I approached the podium. The makeup guy took a look at me under the stage lights and added a little more makeup. I tried to ignore the fact that the studio was filled with at least two hundred audience members, watching my every movement. 


For some reason, those two hundred seemed far more intense than the tens of thousands of fans who used to watch me cheerlead at football games. 


We ran through a few practice questions, just like Brody had. After three of them, the stage manager announced, “She’s a natural. Bring out the contestants—we start filming in five.” 


I turned and smiled at Brody, who was now watching me from backstage the way I had watched him. I thought back to that first night, the night we had met. Playing silly bar trivia together while gulping down cheap beer. Winning a commemorative pint glass for our efforts.


We had come so far.


Christy was busy on her phone again. Brody pointed at me with his massive hand, then changed it into a thumbs-up. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was still nervous, but only a little bit. I felt strong, imbued by the strength radiating from the man I loved. 


As long as I had him, and he had me, both of us would be stronger than ever. 

THE END

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