Broken Play, page 20
It feels amazing to be helping, even in such small ways, a city that I hope to spend much more time in.
Being back in the Pacific Northwest feels amazing as well. Even if just for the night. I didn’t fly in early enough to go to either a hotel or the house first. I’m not sure where I’ll stay, honestly. Going home is the choice I’m leaning toward. Despite how great Drew and I’ve been getting along, I’m not sure it’s the wisest choice. Either way, I didn’t commit to anything and likely won’t until I need to.
After landing, I head straight to the stadium. It’s early yet, but pre-gaming is in full swing, regardless of the team’s standings. Fans here are always supportive and the proof can be seen by how many are at the stadium already.
Casey, the team’s family liaison, meets me at the designated entrance and walks with me to the suites. He started this position the same year Drew started for the team, so we bonded over being newbies. We chat about his wife and newborn daughter on the walk, and I realize just how much I’ve missed being away these past weeks.
It makes me sadder than I’d expected. Totally my fault. I fight this part of Drew’s career, the family aspect of the team. Always blaming my inability to trust easily, something a stalker ingrained in me. But I didn’t have that problem with Noah, or with anyone on the ESPN production team.
That’s one more thing to talk to Rebecca about, why my default is an easy distrust of the other players’ wives and girlfriends.
One exception is the first face I see when I enter the suite. Candace is married to the team’s tight end, Bryce. She doesn’t often come to the games; their four young daughters are a lot for one person to handle. She’s here today, though, redheaded girls all in tow.
“June! I was hoping I’d see you today. It’s been forever,” she greets me with a one-armed hug, balancing a newborn in the other.
“It’s good to see you, Candace. You look amazing,” I tell her. She hasn’t lost all the weight from her last pregnancy, but the added pounds that linger look good on her, and she glows with a bright smile. The players are always surrounded by Barbie doll types, so it’s refreshing when you find one who doesn’t conform to the standard and is comfortable with that.
I’ve never conformed to it either. Not with my scars and especially not with my size. I wear a size six, but most of the women I’ve encountered through Drew’s career would consider that plus-size. It’s fucking ridiculous and I’ve always hated it.
But then, Lorelai is much closer to the standard than me, so maybe they all know something I don’t. Fuck that, though. I will not compare myself to that woman ever again.
“Thank you, you do too,” she says, a little conspiratorial. I’m once again wearing an outfit that’s more revealing than I’d worn to previous games. It’s cold as hell outside, though, so no dress. Instead, I opted for snug jeans, an off-shoulder chunky knit sweater cropped just enough to highlight my scar, and my new favorite badass heeled combat boots.
“Yeah, well, we do what we have to, right?”
“Lady, yes. And you do whatever it takes to have that man begging at your feet. Looking like this”—she waves a hand at me—“you’ll have every single man on this team pushing him out of the way to get to you.”
“From your lips,” I say, mustering a smile. I’m glad she’s not pussyfooting around the subject. Everyone here knows what’s happened. How could they not?
“For real, honey. You need anyone to sit with, you sit with me. You need to chat, you come chat with me. You need to escape it all, you run away to Aruba with me. I got you.”
“Thanks, Candace. That means the world. You have no idea,” I say, this time with a genuine smile.
“I have some idea, but that’s a conversation for another time and with a lot of wine.”
Before I have the chance to ask what that’s all about, Candace and Bryce’s three-year-old, Jolie, comes rushing up to her mom.
“Mama, can I has some food? Millie says it’s not for me.” Millie being her sister who is only two years older.
“The food is for everyone, baby. Just let me change the baby’s diaper first, okay?”
Jolie’s bottom lip juts out in the most adorable pout and tears pool in her wide eyes.
“I can take her,” I offer. “Any food allergies I need to know of?”
“Thanks, June. These kids are four whole handfuls,” she says. “No allergies. They’re all garbage cans. Just like their daddy.”
Jolie nods vigorously in agreement.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I say, holding out my hand. She doesn’t take it, and her eyes narrow on me.
“Mama, is she a stranger?”
“No, this is June. She’s QB Drew’s wife, remember?” Candace answers, grinning like a Cheshire.
Jolie’s eyes quickly change to big old saucers. For the entire game, she shadows me and asks me every question she can think of about Drew. Some, several times. The cute-as-a-button child has a huge crush on my husband.
“What’s QB’s favorite food?”
“Salad.”
“Nobodies like salad,” she says in disgust.
“QB Drew loves salad.” The look of disgust doesn’t diminish with my reply, but neither does the look of adoration she’s been wearing all day.
“Maybe you should eat salad so you can be like QB,” Candace prods.
“No, thanks, Mama,” she says, and I giggle. Jolie doesn’t notice, though, because our team has just gotten the ball back and her eyes are glued to the field. They follow only two players, her dad and Drew. She’s got a wonderful attention span for those two men.
We’re sitting in the seats that are open to the rest of the stadium, the suite doors shut behind us. I hear them open for a moment when someone either comes to join us or decides to head back inside. The chatter flows out every time. Once I caught some comments that probably were not meant for me to hear. But then again, with some of the cattier women here, maybe they were. It’s exactly what I’d expect from them, so it’s easy enough to ignore.
A few of the other players’ family members have come out to say hello to Candace and me. None stay long. I get it, it’s awkward, and it’s not as if I have ever been overly friendly with any of them. I’ve overheard two conversations about me and my marriage. Both held the same sentiment; how can I stay with him after he cheated.
I do my best to ignore them.
Besides, Candace and I are quite busy keeping up with a newborn and three toddlers. Millie is entertaining herself by playing a game on a tablet. Samantha, the oldest—she’s six and three-quarters, if you ask her—is happy as a clam with a plate of nachos in front of her. Elizabeth is asleep in her mom’s arms. And Jolie is currently prattling on about how she hopes QB Drew passes the ball to her daddy on the next play, while she sits on my lap, twirling a strand of my hair in her small fingers.
The girl is a bit of a savant when it comes to football. Or at least this team. She knows things no three-year-old should know. She fires off stats like it’s her job. Even if the game weren’t exciting, I’d be fully entertained by her.
But it is exciting, and Drew is playing the best game of his career. He looks magnificent, completing nearly every pass. Although it hasn’t been exclusively a passing game. They’ve run the ball plenty. Drew even ran it in once for a touchdown.
We’re still down by three with less than a minute left in the game and forty-two yards from the end zone. Despite how well Drew and the team have played, which has been exceptional, their competition has been equally as good.
Everything about the next play lines up with perfection for our team; each player is exactly where they need to be. The line blocks are executed with certainty, giving Drew and Bryce the time they need to get in position. Drew’s arm arches through the air, the ball sailing and landing precisely into Bryce’s waiting hands, feet from the end zone. Bryce easily pushes away a player from the other team and strolls into a touchdown.
Jolie bounces in my arms excitedly as I stand to scan the field for possible flags. I see none. With two seconds left on the clock, we’ve just won the last game of the season.
“I knew it, I knew it!” Jolie can’t contain her excitement. It’s infectious. My smile grows as wide as hers as she throws her tiny arms high in the air.
Candace, the girls, and I celebrate in the suite for a while longer before heading down to meet the men. Both will have to linger and speak to the press before they’ll be able to end their day. We go straight to the broadcast room, Jolie still clinging to me, rattling off random facts and various questions.
“What’s QB Drew’s favorite food?”
“Scrambled eggs,” I answer as seriously as I can.
“No, it’s salad!”
“How did you know?” I exclaim with false shock, and she giggles. “Do you want to sneak in with me and watch QB talk to the reporters?”
Her little golden eyes go wide again. “Yes,” she answers in a conspiratorial whisper.
I glance at Candace for approval, who nods and waves us on. “You mind Miss June, Jolie.”
“We have to be super quiet so that he can hear all the questions, okay?”
“Yes,” she whispers again as I open the door and move to stand in a back corner of the room. Coach is still being hammered with questions. I lean against a wall and adjust Jolie on my hip while we wait it out.
She’s not at all bored. In fact, she’s riveted on the answers. I focus on her intensity. Jolie is the most entertaining creature I’ve ever met.
After Coach finishes up, Bryce comes out. As soon as he’s at the microphone, Jolie begins waving wildly.
“Hey, baby,” Bryce greets her with a big grin. When she sees the attention it garners from the press, the oohs, she buries her face in my hair. And now I’m giggling.
Bryce only takes a handful of questions; he’s got a reputation for hating this sort of thing. He does what he must, nothing more. I respect him more for it.
“Okay, okay. That’s it for me. I obviously need to go help my wife out, since she’s recruiting June to babysit my girls,” he teases, giving the crowd a wave as he leaves the stage and heads to us.
“She’s fine,” I reassure him. “She wanted to watch QB Drew.”
“Ahh, QB Drew is her favorite,” he replies.
“Will these vultures try to eat him too, Daddy?” Her voice is loud enough for half the room to hear, and laughs erupt all around as Bryce’s cheeks pinken slightly. Obviously, some of his disdain for the dog and pony show has rubbed off on his daughter.
“We’re about to find out,” I tell her, pointing to where Drew is walking to the podium.
There have only been two occasions when I remember Drew dressing up for pressers after a game. Both times it was because the games fell on my birthday. Otherwise, he’s dressed in some sort of athleisure.
Tonight, he’s dressed to the nines. He’s perfectly draped in a dark silver three-piece suit. Under it is a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned low enough to show the strong column of his neck. The vest is also unfastened in a completely casual manner that has all my sexual pistons firing in time.
There’s a devil-may-care attitude wafting off him that makes me gooey and too hot. Drew with that big dick energy, a little reckless, a lot cocky… it’s a whole vibe. Like earthquakes shattering my whole willpower type of vibe.
Luckily, a tiny palm with sticky fingertips lands on my cheek, distracting me from my lust spike.
“There he is,” Jolie quietly announces.
There he is, is right.
As soon as he gets to the microphone, the queries fly. Drew takes the first handful of questions in easy stride. They’re softballs, the type of questions I always wonder why reporters ask. The answers are always some generic versions of each other. The same soundbite every game isn’t worth the effort, in my opinion.
Then he points to someone on the other side of the room.
“It’s already being floated that this was a career highlight game not only for you but the entire team. What do you attribute that to?”
“You know, there are days when a few of us show up a little high on life for whatever reason. It’s infections and can take over the entire team. We had that today. This was the first time Bryce had all his girls at a game. Tyson got engaged this week. Jimmy found out he’s going to be a dad. We had a lot to celebrate this week coming into the game and we played like a team happy for each other. A team that wants to work for each other,” Drew answers.
A smile takes over my face. Though, a sadness takes a little hold of my heart because I didn’t know about Tyson or Jimmy’s news. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own world, I’m utterly failing at being a supportive member of this team’s family. Not that I was ever all that good at it to begin with.
“Are you saying that earlier in the season, collectively, you all were having bad days?” The same reporter follows up.
“I mean, no, not collectively. A lot of what happened this season falls on my shoulders. We’re still a new team, learning each other’s habits. And I used to think most of us could compartmentalize, keep our personal lives separate from the job. This season I learned that isn’t true. Everything in our lives bleeds into it. Personally, I failed the team this season by not being the man I needed to be all-around. I failed myself. Mostly, I failed my wife,” he says, finding me in the room. “She’s here today, though, maybe giving me one last chance to earn back some of her trust.”
Jolie’s little hand shoots up in the air as Drew looks for the next journalist to call on.
“I see our newest reporter has a question,” he says, grinning. “Ask away, Miss Jolie.”
“What do you fink it will take to lead this team to the Super Bowl next year? Besides throwing the ball to my daddy more.”
The room erupts in soft laughter and Bryce beams with pride at his little tater-tot.
“Great question,” he says and Jolie’s whole face shines like the face of the sun at his praise. “It’ll have to be a team effort, of course. But for my part, I’m committed to being the best quarterback, the best man that I can be. One who deserves to have faith and trust placed in him. A man who follows through on his promises. I’ll do everything I can to get us where we all want to be.” His eyes never leave mine. He’s not talking about football as much as he’s talking about us. “And yes, I definitely need to throw the ball more to your daddy. He made the play of the game today.”
Bryce, from either instincts or a keen eye, clues in on my emotions. He takes a step closer, wrapping his solid arm around me and his daughter.
“Do you believe him?” Bryce asks.
“I do,” answers Jolie. But her daddy is looking at me.
“I want to,” I say, my voice betraying how unsure I am.
“I do, for what it’s worth,” he says confidently, keeping eye contact with me. “I think he’s actively trying to be worthy of you, honey. He’s a different man these past couple of months. I know what it looks like. I recognize it in him.”
“Maybe I haven’t been very worthy of all of you,” I say to him.
Bryce gives me a sympathetic smile; his arm tightening just slightly. “That takes time. We’re a horrible bunch of reprobates. You’ll get there.”
“What’s prepobaties mean, Daddy?” Jolie asks in a not so hushed voice, and we both grin over her head.
“Boys, baby. It means boys. You should stay away from them. Forever.”
“Okay,” she agrees.
Bryce and Candace’s past may be a mystery to me, although it’s evident there was betrayal. The strength they have as a couple, as a family, gives me hope. If they came out of it as such a strong, loving couple, maybe Drew and I can, too.
I’ve been looking at this as the end of our marriage. Of course I have been. Any woman would. If I look at it from a different angle, one of optimism, maybe this is what we’ve needed all along. Not his infidelity, by any means, but something that forced us to begin again. To start the way we should have started all along. Instinct tells me we need that. I only wish I could trust my instincts these days.
The presser ends not long after Drew ends his questions, and by the time I file out of the room, he’s waiting for me.
“Need a ride?” he asks.
19
JUNE
Drew loads me and both our bags into his SUV before folding his big frame into the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, he pauses. He doesn’t look at me, just stares at his hands on the steering wheel in the ten and two positions.
Silence fills the air between us, thick with feelings I can’t quite get a read on. Maybe the same thoughts going through my head are going through his.
Where do we go from here?
I need a partner who wants to be with me, in every way, as much as I want to be with them. I don’t have enough faith in Drew to be that man, but when we married, I believed you fight through your problems. You stick it out in the hard times as long as you’re both making efforts to change. What if I haven’t put in the right effort, haven’t given Drew the right chances?
Maybe I’m just an idiot. Or maybe I just need to make the decision to either be done or truly put the effort in to see if we can get past this. Only one of those tightens my chest and knots my stomach.
“Where to, June?”
My mouth opens to tell him the Edgewater. Instead, I say what I want most, “Home.”
A slow breath releases out of him, and he shifts to reverse out of the spot. We don’t speak on the drive, but halfway there he reaches over to take my hand in his. I still wonder how we fit together, but I’m not apprehensive at this touch. I’m not letting my head wander into a territory that makes me hurt or hate.
When my dad died, a social worker stopped by his hospital room to speak to our family. She told us to be where our feet are. Don’t look back on the what-ifs, don’t worry about what the future holds. Be in the now. It stuck with me then and I’m embracing it now. Whatever happens tomorrow, I want to just enjoy this night.
