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Autumn Secrets
Autumn Secrets
Autumn Secrets
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Autumn Secrets

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Robert Burkholder, a successful pro quarterback in San Diego, seems to have everything that a glamorous California lifestyle promises will make him happy: a fabulous beach house, amazing parties with celebrity friends, and a gorgeous model named Taylor who is eager to date him. Yet feelings about his guilty past begin to prevent him from committing to her, or anything else.

While visiting Pennsylvania after an injury sidelines him, Robert meets Anna Miller, the kind Mennonite mother of a talented high school football player that his alma mater just happens to be desperate to recruit. As he builds a relationship with Anna, along with her son Jacob and his sassy girlfriend Jenny, Robert finds himself questioning his worldly values and seeking spiritual answers amid a new community of Christian friends.

As the colorful fall landscapes of Pennsylvania call to his heart, will Robert chase Taylor in California or return to his roots where Anna awaits? Will long hidden autumn secrets awaken dormant passions and help Robert choose between love, football, and his faith?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWestBow Press
Release dateJul 25, 2016
ISBN9781512746259
Autumn Secrets
Author

J. G. Piccolo

J. G. Piccolo is an author, church deacon and retired businessman with three grown children. He resides in Nazareth, Pennsylvania with his wife of forty years. Autumn Secrets is his first novel.

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    Autumn Secrets - J. G. Piccolo

    Prologue

    Indianapolis, Indiana

    September 2003

    "Yes, we understand the uniqueness of this situation, and under the circumstances that you presented, cautiously we will permit this activity. We hope that all turns out well for everyone. However, I personally must admit this is risky on your part, Jim. Is it Jim or Jim Bob?

    Either is fine with me sir. My friends prefer Jim Bob. He paused, then added, I know this will be difficult or very awkward to say the least, but it is long overdue.

    I understand. Tell Coach I wish him well this season, and Jim, God bless you and your family.

    Thank you sir, and thank the committee for me.

    You’re welcome, Jim.

    1. Change of Season

    Rain rarely falls in southern California around early October, so the cool drizzle provided Robert with a welcome respite from the warm dry air. The earlier clouds indicated that a more ominous event was fast approaching. The forecast concurred with the warning of a larger, more powerful storm front moving in from the west behind the light rain. This weather would lead to a different kind of fall season. Something felt amiss.

    Sitting under the broad deck umbrella, Robert closed his eyes and quietly breathed the salty air with its light, cool mist. He sat staring out into the surf below, listening to the powerful crashing waves that grew stronger with the incoming storm. His sheltered position would soon give way to the coming wind and heavier downpour, but for the moment he felt completely relaxed, engrossed in a clear train of thought, as if the fog of everyday life was lifting from his mind.

    At the age of thirty-seven, Robert was now basking in the twilight of a brilliant career. He had enjoyed the whole journey, both rewards and pain alike, though age and injuries were prompting the reality of an almost certain retirement. Football had dominated his entire life. A decision to end it all now would surely prove a soul-wrenching experience. However, he knew that it was time.

    Robert gazed beyond the sturdy redwood railing of his deck into the constant ebb and flow of the Pacific Ocean below. His thoughts drifted back and forth, from recent events to the past and always to his dubious future. He enjoyed reveling in those old days. Most people remember the positive events, and he was no different. Feeling both comfort and joy, his mind meandered through happier times.

    Suddenly the wind picked up, bringing a sheet of rain and interrupting his thoughts, forcing a retreat into the shelter of the house. Drenched and shivering, Robert didn’t dry off immediately but continued searching, looking through the large, plate glass window past the beads of water to the surf below. He leaned wearily against the cool glass, mildly distracted by the growing voracity of the incoming storm. His thoughts turned to her. What had provoked her that day?

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    No. I don’t think so! yelled Natalie.

    What do you mean? asked Robert. Haven’t I always provided for you while you launched your career? You never had to ask for anything. A bit of success comes along, and now you don’t need the old man anymore. I thought we had something here.

    Support doesn’t mean love, especially not for me. I don’t want to be provided for, I want to be in a committed relationship where we both give and take equally. I’m not just a trophy for you to show off in public, she retorted. "If you spent more time caring about us, and not worrying about yourself and your damned career plans, we might still have something, as you so eloquently put it. This isn’t about our age difference, either. We’re ten years apart. So what? We’re just not going anywhere."

    Natalie’s rage began to subside. I’m sorry, Robert. I have the means to move on now, and that’s what I’m choosing to do. I regret that I did it while you were out of town, but I felt this was the best way. The sad part is that you really don’t get why this is happening. Go polish your football trophies because this lady is no longer part of your collection. Goodbye.

    She slammed a house key on the foyer table.

    Wait a minute, Natalie! I want to… he tried.

    No, no, no. She paused, her tone laced with finality. No more charm, no more promises, Robert. I might be crazy to think this way out here in Hollywood, but I want a husband, not a boyfriend, in my life. You’re not cutting it, though I had hoped otherwise, and I don’t see you changing any time soon. I don’t know who hurt you or what scares you about committing to another human being, but you’re going to be a lonely old man if you don’t figure it out someday soon.

    Tears streaming down her cheeks, she flung her parting shot before walking out the front door. I’m tired of waiting for you to grow up, Robert. I’m not wasting any more years on you.

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    Her final unforgettable words burned deeply in his brain. Was he destined to live alone, to die alone? The prospect of a lifetime of loneliness engulfed his mind as the violent waves raced up the beach outside his window.

    Natalie had been his long-term companion for three years, but they both knew the party was ending soon. Robert felt that he could not offer much security for a young starlet when he retired and lost the high salary, so he resigned himself to her leaving, thinking she would free herself from any obligations sooner or later. She obviously felt differently. Maybe he had missed the point or something else held him back from commitment, but it didn’t really matter. She thought it was time to go. Had she found someone else? This last blow hurt deeply, yet just added to his growing despair.

    Anybody would consider Robert a good catch, and Natalie knew it. He was a good man by most people’s standards. Alcohol and drugs had never controlled him, and he was not a gambler. He did appreciate women, which had resulted in some tense moments between the two of them. Robert had never cheated on Natalie, but she found his flirtatious nature hard to ignore over time. People were attracted to him, and he enjoyed meeting them. Natalie used to say, with a grimace, that Robert had never met a stranger.

    He began to ponder his future. There was no shortage of money, security which Natalie clearly valued. Robert lived conservatively except for the occasional lavish party at his beachfront property. His family all lived back East, so his party friends tended to fill certain voids in his life. Though his salary would soon end, his mansion was paid off, and with his remaining savings and pension, he could have a very comfortable lifestyle.

    Despite Natalie’s predictions, his next chapter didn’t look entirely bleak. Even though local endorsements would most likely end after retirement, and national ones had never materialized, there were other opportunities. He might coach or go for sports announcing or a commentary position at one of the networks. At six foot two with naturally wavy brown hair and boyish good looks, Robert could hold his own in front of the camera as a State journalism graduate. After all, he finished in a football program where academics came first. Coach would not have had it any other way.

    The problem was his personal life. Twirling cubes of ice in his half-empty glass of fresh lemonade, he sat down heavily in an easy chair and gazed intently at the ocean, as if answers lay in the endless patterns of churning water mixing into the incoming waves. The tempest only grew more violent. The world always seemed brighter to him after a storm. Maybe this chaotic transition in his life would eventually end in the bright day for which he yearned.

    As the Pacific Ocean brewed surfer dreams with its soaring waves, Robert knew reckless daredevils further down the coast were confronting the strong winds and rain headlong. Those foolish years had long passed him by, and suddenly he felt old. Forty was calling, and he felt the age both physically and emotionally. He no longer healed as quickly, inside and out, and he was far more cautious now.

    Life was changing fast. Perhaps this storm was the sign. The question that burned greatest in his mind was whether he could control these coming events on the horizon as he contemplated retirement or whether a stronger force would sweep him away, into oblivion.

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    Summers by the warm Atlantic Ocean off the New Jersey shoreline were among his fondest memories. He recalled how he loved to play in that special place where the waves and sand played their never-ending dance. Fed by the warm Gulf Stream, the Atlantic was the biggest bathtub in the world to Robert and his brothers and sisters on weekend outings. He smiled, remembering the cheerful sounds of the cheap carnival rides and rigged games. He truly missed those Jersey shore summer days with his family.

    The Atlantic beaches were wide and deep from seawall to water’s edge, flat and free of rocks with mounds of hot sand forming the rear seawall covered in bright green salt grass. The overcrowded beaches of Cape May were landscaped with multicolored umbrellas, scattered beach toys, coolers and folding lounge chairs. He could hear the children playing excitedly and sea gulls squawking as he closed his eyes.

    Robert loved the wind sails and brightly colored fabric pole flags that families used to mark their spots. Save an occasional salty air breeze, swimming in the tepid water proved their sole relief from the torrid sand and stifling heat. Evenings were spent strolling along the boardwalk, eating saltwater taffy, crunching on fresh caramel corn and watching girls.

    The car rides home to Pennsylvania were where the pleasant moods evaporated and arguments about playing football started up again.

    Robert, mark my words, no good will come from that game, cautioned Benjamin Burkholder. If you break a bone in middle school, your long-term growth will be impacted, and you’ll always regret it. Try baseball.

    His father feared Robert’s desire to play football, knowing injuries at his son’s age could prove devastating. This football business did not sit well with Mary Ann Burkholder either. Boys slamming into each other all over the field were not her only concern. She knew with his extroverted personality Robert would pay an emotional cost if success led to fame, a note on which he had placed a large down payment during college and was continuing to pay.

    Ben, however, knew his son. Robert would give everything he had to excel if he wanted it badly enough, and his father knew that he did. Moreover, if football was forbidden, the sport would only grow more enticing. Robert continued to play football with his friends, without the protection of equipment, after school and on weekends. After many bruises and a few broken fingers, Ben and Mary Ann concluded that their son would at least have some protective gear, and the structure of a rule book, if he played with the school team.

    The Manheim High School football team in Central Pennsylvania was not state championship material, but under Robert’s leadership, the boys easily won districts each year and performed well in the first round of the playoffs. Robert didn’t set any new Pennsylvania state records as the team’s star quarterback, but he came close.

    Robert’s coach knew he had a future in the sport and promoted him to Division I program recruiters. Fortunately, his passing efficiency and solid performance under pressure caught the eye of a State coaching assistant. Since they were the only Division I school scouts who noticed his skills, the choice was simple. Robert’s heart lay with State, so he was more than excited for the scholarship offer, and his parents were pleased by the academic opportunities he would find there.

    Academics were extremely important to Ben, who had barely completed high school, and the academic emphasis for athletes at State was well known. Like his son, Ben had also excelled in athletics as a young man, but he chose to work on the family farm to survive the poor economy of the seventies. Land developers were absorbing many small farms and foreclosures littered the local newspaper pages in those days. Ben was determined not to let the rich history of his family’s farm sink underwater.

    When Ben later inherited the farm, and all its demands and traditions, he worked hard to set an example of integrity for his children and impress a strong work ethic upon them. He was a self-learned man whose devotion to the Bible took precedence over newspapers or works of fiction. Of all his children, only Robert seemed unwilling to accept this way of life. Sports, academics and farm chores kept him busy and out of most trouble, but Ben worried about the path of his son’s heart.

    Robert was not a model student, but he passed his classes with high enough grades to satisfy the college admissions board, and his father. Ben had wisely insisted that academics come first or football was out. Many girls often offered their tutelage, which he accepted from time to time, much to his mother’s dismay. Robert also played baseball in the spring to keep himself in prime shape.

    The Burkholder farm specialized in locally grown produce and dairy. Ben operated an on-site market that sold vegetables, fruit, cheese, eggs and milk. Though his customers included chefs around Lancaster County, the bulk of his produce sold mostly to local grocery chain stores in season. Every Friday in the summer and fall months the family set up shop at the Green Dragon Farmer’s Market in Ephrata. Their homegrown fall celery with its unique flavor was a local favorite. Every child in the family followed Ben’s hardworking example, yet they did not begrudge Robert’s streamlined chore schedule during football season, but cheered him on at his games.

    As he sat by the window, Robert savored his high school years for a moment. The girls loved their star quarterback during his junior and senior years. Fortunately, Robert’s full load of chores, football and baseball practice, academics and church activities limited his dating experience to one girl.

    He dated Debbie exclusively during their senior year, but the relationship was not serious. Her nickname for him stuck over time, and eventually, his friends and his family also began calling him Rob. They traveled to different colleges in the fall and, after a few letters, their young love faded. He had enough to worry about with a new world of college ball before him.

    Rob chuckled at how demanding his coaches had been, all for his own good. Freshman boot camp at State that summer was tougher than his rookie camp in the pros.

    2. State

    Central Pennsylvania sizzled in the summer of 1986. It was the kind of heat that East Coast people dread, despite finally surviving a bitterly cold winter and chilly late spring. The temperatures reached close to a hundred degrees with humidity levels soaring to ninety percent that year. Eyeglasses would fog over instantly when walking out of an air-conditioned room.

    Unlike the southern states, where folks expected that type of heat and designed porches around it, Pennsylvanians wanted gorgeous summer days after enduring a long harsh winter. The higher elevation of the valleys, nestled in the ancient Blue Mountains, usually gave relief from the unusual August heat wave that settled over the northeast part of the state, but not the year when Rob started the State football training camp.

    Rob did not know which was worse, the scorching temperatures or heat from the overbearing coaching staff. All he knew was that he was living in an inferno. The coach and his staff expected the very best from their players, which was to be expected, but the team’s own expectations of themselves only increased the pressure. Knowing they would want to burn off steam at night, the staff warned their players not to party too hard, an especially tempting vice for incoming freshman. Coaches possessed zero tolerance for after-hour shenanigans, especially during summer camp. Rob’s social life would have to wait, at least until football was over.

    When his parents dropped him off for summer camp, Rob purposely chose not to flaunt his Christianity around his teammates while still respecting his upbringing and spiritual values with his actions. He knew that he was not alone, but freshmen were wise to avoid revealing weaknesses around the tough upperclassmen. An outwardly Christian stance on typical locker room conversations would easily make Rob a target, so he and others kept quiet.

    Toward September’s end, the outside temperatures eased into crisp cool weather, but the academic heat index rose as the reality of college standards began to take a toll on Rob. The rigorous academics and long practices often stressed him out to the boiling point. Though State had sent many young men to the big leagues, he knew that most would never see the gridiron of a professional field. Coach wanted his boys to have a future after football. They all knew that if they did not make the grades, they would not play.

    College was intense, fast-paced and at times overwhelming. As the semester progressed, Rob gradually realized how many of his teammates would not return to the team, or even school, the following semester. He knew the lure of drugs, alcohol, free love and skipping class would send many promising students back home in December. Rob vowed not to be one of them, and for the most part he kept to himself and concentrated on his studies and training. He chose to pursue friendships with only a few team members, though the coeds eyed him regularly. Rob did not have time, nor the desire, for dating now. He knew there would be plenty of time later, as an upperclassman.

    Rob fueled his gregarious personality by developing a strong camaraderie with a select group of freshman teammates. They banded together out of survival from the relentless upperclassmen hazing. He knew that many of these freshmen players, limited by their skills and talent, might never leave the practice squad. This was not high school anymore, and trying hard wasn’t enough. Rob knew deep inside that sitting on the bench would not be his fate. He performed exceptionally well during camp, and his determination gained the respect of the coaching staff. Even though he might not start as a freshman or sophomore, keeping himself free of injuries would secure his future. He was deeply driven to pass that pigskin into the end zone.

    The small group of promising freshman came from all around the Northeast - a big Italian kicker from New Jersey, a rugged running back from Ohio. Tom Barry, hailing from western Pennsylvania where great quarterbacks outnumbered cheerleaders, possessed the same drive as Rob. He was a strong, quick and smart linebacker in the State tradition, dating back to the likes of Hobart and Holmes.

    Rob’s favorite teammate, Jim Bob, had driven his old truck all the way from his home state of Alabama. His parents were small crop farmers in western Alabama near the Mississippi border and could not afford plane fare home except over the Christmas season, so Rob would often bring Jim Bob home to his family’s table, and washing machine, during breaks.

    Unlike the others who flamed out early in college, Jim Bob later played professional ball for Minnesota. Though he started out strong, a series of injuries cut his career short. Soon after, he accepted a coaching position at State and kept in regular contact with Rob. The two kept up their friendship long after the days of football camp, though the others faded away soon after school. Though they came from such diverse cultural backgrounds, their farming roots and homegrown values bound them together.

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    Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting him from his reminiscing.

    Hey, Rob. That hit you took on Sunday in the Kansas City game was too rough. I should have covered you better. Kip, an offensive lineman, was a young, earnest player from the Midwest. We shouldn’t have let you get exposed to a vicious hit like that, and we’re going to make that bastard pay.

    Vengeance won’t solve anything, Kip, Rob interjected quickly. You think that’s the first time I’ve taken a dirty hit? And the last thing you need is league discipline on your hands with that baby on the way. Diane would have my hide. The refs kicked that guy out of the game anyway.

    Kip laughed ruefully. I guess you’re right, Rob. We’ll have to settle with the fine they slapped him with afterward.

    I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be okay, reassured Rob, though he felt differently inside.

    The team doctors benched Rob for the next several games, placing him on a week-by-week status. The second-year backup quarterback, Kerry Edwards, who came from Michigan State, would carry the load. He showed promise during the preseason games, and Rob felt good about the boy’s future as a replacement. With a poor 1-3 record starting the season, and if his backup Kerry did well, the new status would extend Rob’s time off the team. Surprisingly, though, that possibility did not concern or disappoint him. His competitive spirit had began to wane.

    Despite the storm that still relentlessly raged along the coast, Rob gathered his duffle bag and hit the freeway for his daily drive from San Clemente down to San Diego for team practice. Or as his case, to watch old game films. He did not care to re-live the hit he took, but if he was to coach young Kerry, he needed to study the receivers. Fortunately, he would not have to endure the grueling practice that usually followed a loss. Afterward, Rob planned to drive home and enjoy the time off, with or without Natalie. He knew that she wouldn’t be there when he returned home.

    As he sped down the winding freeway, Rob was grateful for these unexpected weeks off from practice. He needed that time to think and plan his announcement to retire at the end of the season. Though some would judge his decision as premature, Rob knew the timing was imminent. The possibility of permanent disability grew with each hard hit. This was not his first hit that had resulted in concussion, and he was tired of waiting through the healing process, only to be knocked down again. For the first time in his life, Rob was unconcerned about the upcoming game, and that felt good. Yet there was genuine pain in the realization that this chapter of his life was closing.

    The scenic drive wrapped around undulating coastlines slowly filtered out his depression about retiring, and losing Natalie. He felt oddly unemotional about it all. Perhaps a good, old-fashioned California beach party was just what Rob needed right now. The alluring elixir of friends and good music always seemed to pick up his spirits, especially on his own turf around a crowd where he could be himself.

    Later that day he made a few phone calls, and by Friday, the list had grown to more than one hundred guests, not counting escorts. Rob had many friends in San Diego, Orange County and Los Angeles and his celebrity status would draw even more people wanting to be noticed. Hollywood was littered with people trying to break into the industry, and Rob’s parties had often inadvertently helped many people connect in the past. He needed a new connection too, someone to fill the void Natalie had created. He wanted a new future.

    3. The Party

    The glitz and glamour of the southern Californian gentry disgusted Rob’s parents, though his mother was always more polite while expressing her opinions about them, and their visits were infrequent. Although Ben Burkholder enjoyed the warmer weather, visiting was difficult to manage during the summer growing season and fall harvest, or even the busy holiday season. When they did come, Rob kept them away from his party crowd as much as he could, but they usually saw enough to welcome the flight home.

    Early in Rob’s career, he often argued politely with his father about the detrimental effects of materialism, free love, substance abuse, humanism and other issues. Such debates were less political in nature but rather spiritual dialogues. Those conversations were Ben’s thinly disguised attempts to alter his son’s moral compass. Unfortunately, Rob’s compass pointed south on too many issues for his father, eventually straining their relationship. If he could have attended one of Rob’s famous parties, Ben would have quickly confirmed his suspicions that his son had indeed blown well off course.

    Rob’s parties were a clear cross-section of all that his father detested, with few exceptions. The guest list included nearly every conceivable type of person, from drag queens to a few old married couples. Rob was not always

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