by Anne Leigh
We weren’t going to have the normal mother-daughter relationship that other children were blessed with.
We were always going to have the past hanging between us.
But maybe, just maybe, she was erecting a bridge that I would not be so opposed to crossing.
“I like Scott,” I said, and for the first time I was admitting something I valued deep inside me to the woman who borne me. “I want to be with him, away from the public eye.”
Her hand gripped the wine glass she was holding, “He’s not a bad-looking guy.”
“He’s a good guy,” I said, saying more than I ever thought I’d ever say in front of her. “He makes me feel special. I don’t love him for his looks.”
Love?
God. Do I love him?
Yes, yes I do.
“That’s a pretty strong word, darling. But you’re already special.” Her voice exuded warmth, one that had been lacking for all the time I’d been wishing it for, “He’s a good athlete, Tre told me.”
I was still staggering from my admission, but I had to keep talking.
“He’s more than that... He understands me.” The words kept spilling out of me, and I let them, hoping that maybe she wasn’t putting up a front to bribe me into establishing a relationship with her. I’d wanted it for so long, but like some of the dreams I’d had with her and my father, I’d buried them in a pile that I hadn’t planned on digging up at all.
“I’m glad. Being in public doesn’t have to be a burden. You can use it to your advantage. Or you can just tolerate it to be with the man you want to be with.” A small smile crinkled her eyes; my mother had always been a beauty. And right now, her beauty was magnified ten times by the softness that her smile generated. She’d never smiled like that with me. Or if she did, I’d forgotten since it had been so long. “You deserve the best.”
In return, I gave her my words, “I’ll spend a summer in Italy. I’ll let you know when, but not anytime soon.”
“Okay. Fair enough.” With those words, she’d sealed a deal that I didn’t know I’d be making before I stepped into La Pierre, and a lightness that hadn’t been there every time I saw my mother, started to bloom inside me.
Scott
My best friend had been playing ball with me for as far as I could remember.
He’d been the guy I’d thrown passes to when it was just the two of us practicing in our backyard.
He’d been the guy who tackled me and sacked me countless times.
No other guy could brag about that.
Rikko could.
Often and not quite to my liking.
And right now, my best friend was the brick that San Francisco built their defense on.
He wasn’t a Heisman contender for nothing.
He might be my brother outside the field, but right now we were competitors, trying to outsmart each other in the game.
I called out the play and I knew that Rikko was watching me closely, trying to decipher if it was going to be a run, a pass, or a combo of both.
I loved my best friend. He’d been there for me at my lowest and at my peaks.
It would have been a dream to play with him on the same team, but life didn’t work out that way.
He was great for San Francisco, but right now, he was blocking my throws and it sucked.
“Ginger 18, Wyatt 57,” I mouthed to my offensive line.
Coach had called it and he was right.
San Francisco was running us ragged and my men were getting pounded on trying to defend me; it was time to scramble their defense.
The second the ball was in my hands, I was scanning the positions that my receivers were running towards, knowing that Rikko and the rest of his teammates were gunning for me.
Dillon was covered, Trey was still running and Jaret was trying to get free from the shackles of a linebacker.
Trey had run left, parallel to the line of scrimmage, revealing that San Francisco’s defense was trying to cover all the receivers instead of rushing me which was a mistake on their part because even if I didn’t have a lot of time to throw the ball, they’d given me enough.
Enough time to step back and watch as Trey snagged some alone time, galloping alone through the secondary and I let go of the ball.
The time it took for Trey to grab the ball in the air as he ran it for a touchdown was enough for me to hear “Motherfucker” come out of my best friend’s mouth.
Rikko tapped the top of my helmet and shook his head as he and I watched half of the stadium erupt in cheers.
The other half was grieving the loss of their three-point lead and with twenty seconds on the clock, San Francisco would have to bow down.
We played for opposing teams, but when Rikko left my side to conglomerate with his team, I had no doubts that at the end of the game, he would be one of the first ones to congratulate me.
We were soldiers fighting on different teams inside the grid, but outside of it, we were brothers.
The media had hyped up most of our matches, the Royals had played against San Francisco twice last year and this year, we faced only once during the regular season, and if our standings held, we would be facing each other again during the playoffs.
Rikko and I laughed about all the hype.
We might not have ended up on the same team, but we were both living our dreams.
And there was no better man I could think of sharing the success with than the man who’d been there for me my whole life.
“You couldn’t just let one slip by you, huh?” Rikko said as he punched me on my side.
We were at Grill Masters, a bar a block away from the hotel that my team was camped out at. Normally, we’d have left right after the game, but Mother Nature was barreling down on the East Coast next week so we were traveling to Atlanta tomorrow instead of Saturday.
It sucked that I couldn’t make it back to Cali to be with Bridgette, and she’d been sad on the phone when I’d informed her as soon as Coach told us hours before we faced San Francisco.
“Would you?” I returned and lowered my baseball cap. San Francisco had just suffered a loss, and although the bar seemed friendly, you never knew if there were any crazy fans who would start talking to you and blame you the entire time you were at the bar for their team’s loss.
His answer was a chuckle, and his eyes went right back to the TV screen showing the highlights of our matchup.
Dillon dropped into the seat by my right, “Yo, great defense, man.” His eyes traveled to Rikko to which my best friend responded with a “Thanks.”
I knew that Rikko was still processing their loss and the fact that he was being quiet meant that he needed some time to cool off.
When you were passionate about something, you poured everything into it – blood, guts, emotions – any loss was heartbreaking.
He was the only one on his team who’d come to the bar where my teammates were rejoicing across the dancefloor, and the alcohol was being poured in copious amounts.
We still had to make curfew, but Coach understood the need for a celebration, and since we were traveling ahead of schedule to snow-covered Atlanta, he’d given us two hours extra to get our jollies off.
A few of my teammates stopped by my table to shoot the shit, and they’d been surprised to see Rikko beside me.
My best friend didn’t need introductions.
His stock was high up in the NFL. Everyone knew him.
But not everyone knew how close we were unless they followed us during college.
But even the surprised ones didn’t question why he was there, hanging out with me. Football players weren’t like hockey players who got off on blood, gory, and breaking jaws.
It would be hard for me to go out drinking with my best friend if he’d just punched the crap out of me or I him.
I loved watching hockey; I just never wanted to play it.
I played baseball and even lacrosse, but the gruesome facial injuries in hockey deterred me from playing it.
&
nbsp; I liked my teeth intact, all of them.
“What’s up with Berger?” Rikko muttered, his eyes not straying from the screen on top of the bar.
I didn’t say anything. Rikko must have sensed the animosity between me and my back-up. Berger barely looked at me when he’d stepped inside the bar with Dillon and Jax. They’d stopped by where I was sitting where Berger was likely forced to interact with me, and all he did was act bored and look away.
“He being a pussy? Can’t stand being number 2?” Rikko said, his head turning to gauge my reaction.
It was public knowledge that Berger had the volatility of a toddler and the emotional instability of a porcupine. I didn’t know if porcupines were emotionally unstable, but I’d read a book where hugging porcupines was a study on how to deal with narcissistic assholes. Berger had been drafted in the Top 10, but he’d created so much drama in Minnesota which led to him being traded to us.
So far, Coach Henderson had kept Berger from acting out, but it was only a matter of time before his moodiness showed up again. I practiced with him, he did his job, and I did mine.
I shrugged and said, “He has issues.”
“With you?” Rikko questioned as he chugged his beer. He was pouring his sorrow into a glass of Heineken and even if I didn’t want to drink, I joined him because that’s what friends did.
I’d rather be in my room right now, chatting with my girlfriend, but my best friend needed to know that I was also here for him.
“Yeah. Bridge and him seem to have a past,” I said, my voice louder than I’d intended it to be, but the music in the bar was loud enough to cover my voice. “I haven’t really talked to her about it, but they recognized each other at a party and since then he’s been more than the regular douche than he’s been.”
“Ah. One of those I hate you because you got the girl types? What a sorry ass.” Rikko said and laughed, “How’s Beauty by the way?”
He called Bridge ‘Beauty’ and I wouldn’t contradict him. Bridge was a beauty inside and out. Her heart was bigger than any other women I knew. Even when she was tired in her college classes, she always made time for the kids in her painting class. She was sad to let her job at the Japanese restaurant go, but she was trying to get into the NASA program, so she had no choice.
She didn’t have to work, but she did it because she wanted to experience everything that her heart desired.
“She’s busy,” I said, longing filling my voice. “She has crazy college courses and her schedule’s loaded.”
“Hmm,” Rikko said in a meaningful tone. You’d have to know him well enough or you’d have missed the question in his voice.
“What?” My brows were raised. “What were you gonna say?”
People’s opinions didn’t matter to me. But the people who were closest to me, their thoughts mattered.
He grabbed a fry from the small plate in front of him, popped it in his mouth, and said, “Why her? I mean, don’t get me wrong…she’s beautiful, obviously smart, but I’m doubting her common sense because she’s with you – but why her? You could have a pick of women who would cater to you, follow you everywhere you go, pack up their bags to be with you. So, why be with a college girl who barely has time for you?”
It was a fair question.
A question I asked myself once or twice when I was stuck in the loneliness of my hotel room, when I was on the road and the time difference between us bugged the hell out of me, when I was craving more of her face instead of little snippets of conversation.
I drank my beer and replied, “Because I want to be with her and her only. I loved your sister and after her, I didn’t know if I would find it again with another woman.”
“Find what?” Rikko asked. He was there when I courted Kara, and he was there when his sister had broken my heart. He was there for the buildup and the fall-out.
“Peace.” I exhaled, that’s what Bridgette brought to me, “She doesn’t like me because I’m a quarterback. She doesn’t even care that I am. She gets me, my need for space and when I’m lost inside my own head, she calls me out on it. She’s honest and she makes me happy.”
“She’s that good in bed?” Only Rikko would ask that, and have his balls still attached to him.
“Shut up.” I smacked the back of his head, an ‘oww shit’ came out of him, and I went on, “She’s a cool girl and I just love spending time with her.”
Soft hands encircled my waist and a voice that I’d been craving since the last time I spoke to her said, “Spending time with who?”
I turned so fast that I could have herniated my spine, but I didn’t care. “Bridge?”
Her hazel eyes glittered in amusement, and the smile I’d missed so much materialized in front of me, “I’m here,” as her soft voice created a frisson of need inside me.
My hands found her waist and it didn’t matter to me who was watching or where we were, I lowered my lips to her mouth and her answer was an enthusiastic yes.
“Scott…babe.” Her mouth was moving, but I didn’t want to let go.
“You guys are giving me a woody,” Rikko said and my arm struck in the air to hit him. I let go of Bridge’s lips, but my left hand stayed on her waist.
Her hair had grown longer and she was wearing makeup, something that she didn’t do much of. Ironic because her mother was America’s beauty icon.
Now that my face wasn’t attached to hers, much to my dismay, I had the chance to check her out. I liked checking my girlfriend out, she was a gorgeous woman, sue me if that wasn’t allowed.
She was wearing skinny jeans and the sparkly top she wore complimented her dewy skin. Her ears were adorned with small, heart-shaped diamonds, and I still couldn’t get over the fact that she was here.
“Let’s go.” Excitement poured out of me. I was being rude to Rikko, but who cared? I’d make it up to him by sending him the newest gaming console for his birthday, but right now, I wanted to be inside my girlfriend. “Let’s get out of here.”
Bridgette’s face twitched in amusement, “I just got here. I know this is important to you. Let’s spend time here with your team then you have me the whole night. My flight doesn’t leave til noon tomorrow.”
I wanted to argue, but my fairy bared her claws, “Scott, you texted me that celebrations are important for your team.”
I did and now my words were being used against me. It wasn’t like my teammates were even celebrating with me. They were drinking their asses off, but the fact that I was here was important. My presence was seen as an effort to being close to them.
Last year, I barely went out with them and we’d won, but there was something missing.
My coaches and I talked about it, and when they’d asked my teammates what they wanted from their quarterback, most of them wanted me to partake in the losses but also in our wins. And our wins extended to being in bars like this.
I missed my woman, but she was right, I’d only been here for half an hour. Most of the time, after our wins, we’d go out for two hours and go back to the hotel or if we were in LA, go back home. We didn’t go until everyone was accounted for. No one stayed behind because that could mean trouble. Not everyone made great decisions, especially when they were alone, so we’ve made it a rule to have everyone leave at the same time or at least half remained to wait until curfew.
Bridge let go of my hug and she stepped over to Rikko’s side and gave him a side hug.
“You get shorter and shorter every time I see you.” Rikko joked and Bridge smacked his shoulder, “Been working out, beauty?”
Bridge rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, with the microscopes. They weigh a ton.”
Dillon passed by and did a double take. “Bridgette? Hi. Didn’t know you were here.”
Bridge had been acquainted with him at the L.A. Live club. She smiled at him and said, “Just for tonight, I head back to L.A. tomorrow.”
“Cool. Cool. Just keep our quarterback happy, okay? We need more wins,” Dillon said and gave her a quick hu
g. Before I could land a punch to his side, he’d left just as quickly, chuckling all the way to our teammates where women were now in abundance.
I lifted Bridge to the empty chair to my side and pulled her chair, with her on it, as close as possible.
“I hate that you can just manhandle me so easily,” her voice complained, but her eyes were glued to mine, teasing, seducing, making me wish we were alone.
She looked so good, good enough to eat that I couldn’t help myself and close my eyes as my lips landed on her forehead.
She was still iffy about being out in the public with me, and I had to respect her position. Her brother was used to the limelight, but Bridge lived a quiet life. She wanted to keep her privacy as much as possible. Being my girlfriend would undoubtedly bring cameras to her life and she was struggling with it. She didn’t have to say much. She’d explained it to me, and as much as I wanted to show her off to the world, she was allowed to have a say on how she handled her life.
Tonight, we were at a club where we didn’t have any control of who was going to take pictures or not. The mere fact that she was here with me pushed all the doubts aside. She was trying.
It was more than I could ask for.
She flew from her last class so she could see me.
School was important to her.
But she was also telling me that I was important to her.
Her head leaned over to me, and I smelled the fresh fragrance of flowers and fruits combined with her unique scent.
Peace, that’s what she brought me.
Rikko asked Bridge how school was going, and Bridge talked in a relaxed manner.
I ordered more food for our table since I had a feeling she didn’t eat yet. She needed to pay attention to her health, too. Sometimes she forgot to eat because she was in the lab and when I was close by, I made sure to order her food or bring her food.
The softness of her skin was a stark contrast to my hand that had been roughed up by years of holding a football.
I was already looking forward to getting inside my hotel room to talk to her, but now that she was here, my night had gotten ten times better.