Supernova
Page 27
It was easier when I wore heels and today my head almost reached his nose. It was a great feat.
The Saint Laurent black leather pumps that Tre saved for me came in handy in times like these.
“I’m so proud of you, babe.” His green eyes reflected so much pride. And love.
Love that was always there.
It never faltered.
Throughout the media scrutiny, throughout the years of being apart because of our chosen careers, throughout every storm that posed the greatest challenge to break us apart…
His love had remained steadfast, nebulous, and limitless.
So today, as I clutched the pin I’d gotten for flying towards the endless space I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl, I whispered in his left ear.
“I love you.” Pressing another soft kiss to his chin, I added. “I’m ready for you. For us.”
He didn’t get it at first.
I mean, who could blame him?
He’d been waiting for so long.
One day we’d taken a trip to Aspen during the winter. It was one of the rare times when our schedules matched.
Our hotel was covered with snow and he’d looked me in the eye and asked me, “Just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll give you forever.”
His eyes started to fill with tears.
I’d never seen Scott cry.
Not when he won the Super Bowl.
Not even when he lost it.
For a man who dreamed of ruling the gridiron from the time he could throw the ball, he’d never cried about it.
But now…his eyes shone with unshed tears, in peril of falling from his eyes at any second.
“Ready?”
I nodded. “Yes. Forever.”
His handsome face broke into a blinding smile, the biggest I’d ever seen from him.
I’d been up there, in the company of planets and asteroids, with the whole Milky Way as my backdrop.
But the brightest star was right here on this earth, standing in front of me.
He was my ever-shining, never-ending,
Supernova.
“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.”
Maya Angelou
Scott
The trophy felt heavy in my arms, but I didn’t mind it.
I’d held the Lombardi three times now.
Still.
The feeling never got old.
“Scott, is it true that this is your last game?” Hunter Jones, correspondent for E-Sports, asked from the audience. He was one of my toughest critics, but he also gave honest coverage on how I played.
Marjorie, still with the Royals after all these years, shook her head in the back.
I didn’t have to answer him.
We’d just won a championship, a hard-fought one.
31-28. Against the NFC champions who bore their purple and gold uniforms with pride. The Vikes gave a good fight, but our defense stopped them when it counted the most.
Phil Daunte deserved the MVP trophy. He’d only been in the league for three years, but he set the unflappable tone for the entire defense which carried us to another trip to history. I had two of the same trophy, and tonight another Royals’ player got it and I was happy for him.
I didn’t have to say anything about my plans, but I also didn’t want it to be a waiting game.
Would I be playing next season or not?
I looked towards the back and caught the eyes of the woman who held me afloat all these years. The lights caught the reflection of her tears.
She knew this was difficult for me.
“Yes, this is my last game.” I swallowed the brick of anxiety that rushed to my throat. I never thought I’d be saying it. After you’d done something for so long, it felt strange to let it go.
Cameras started flashing and recording devices were all on me now.
“You just won another ring…” Michelle Hoya, NFLN’s football correspondent, said, “Don’t you think you could go on for another five years?”
It wasn’t a far-flung question. I’d gotten close to the majority of these reporters.
Playing in the NFL for thirteen years, I was bound to build connections with the people who breathed and talked about the game. We had ups and downs, but it was like that with any relationship. Sometimes I wanted to throw the football at them, but most of the time, they were good to me.
“I could.” I rolled my finger over my wedding ring. I’d put it on after I’d gotten the chance to shower and put on my navy suit for the media interviews after the game. Bridge wanted me to decide after the game. I was leaning towards retirement a year ago. I’d talked a lot about it with her and like the supportive partner that she was, she wanted me to decide what was in my heart.
We were on the field, celebrating the win when I leaned into her ear and told her. She’d given me a long kiss that wasn’t caught on camera (hopefully) since everyone’s eyes were on Phil receiving his trophy and the Escalade that came with the MVP.
“I love this game. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. I’ve played it for more than half of my life. I know that I will forever keep it in my heart along with all the memories that came with it. I want to take this opportunity to thank my Royals’ family for allowing me to stay here as long as I have.”
Chuckles abounded in the room.
The new Royals’ owner, Yannis Overhead, was a decent guy. He was a tech billionaire who wanted a football team. His enthusiasm and love for the game was what made Mr. Hemlock hand over the keys to the Royals’ franchise. After forty years of having the Royals under him, Mr. Hemlock wanted a life in the mountains of Montana. It was sad to see him leave two years ago, but it was a good farewell and a great beginning for the team.
I’d informed Yannis before I even set foot on the field tonight. He’d wanted me to reconsider, but my mind was set, and I was determined to finally let go of the ball. He’d said that he respected what I wanted, but he also wanted to hold a special ceremony one day at the Royals’ stadium to retire my number. No other Royal would be able to wear Number 34; it was the greatest honor my team could give me.
Bridge thought I’d want more time to decide.
But win or lose, I’d made my decision.
“I want to thank every member of this wonderful team. All the brothers I’ve come to work with and all the friends I’ve made throughout the years.” I paused and tamped down the catch in my throat. “I want to thank my wife…”
Bridge’s tiny shoulders shook, and I saw Marjorie holding her arms.
“Bridge, thank you for the never-ending support even when I know I wasn’t worthy of it sometimes.” She’d been there for me when I had neck surgery three years back, and I wasn’t the nicest patient. She’d helped me overcome my doubts and she’d given me two of the most precious gifts I could ever have. “I want to be the Uber driver for Eliza when she starts kindergarten and be the one who makes Cassidy’s breakfast when she wakes up grumpy and hungry for food.”
I could play for another five years. I was in excellent health, and my throws were still a force to be reckoned with.
But I didn’t want to miss any more moments with my daughters.
The off-season wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wasn’t going to be the absentee father that my father was.
“Football will always be up there with my greatest achievements. Winning three, now four, rings will always feel sublime. But it’s time for me to hang my helmet up, and be the father that my children deserve.” I smiled through the flashes of cameras and the feeling that was absent in my gut was confirmation that I made the right decision.
I didn’t feel doubts or trepidation.
Last summer, my hazel-eyed little nugget, Eliza, asked why I was always gone and why her Mommy was the only one who attended her school functions. I couldn’t answer her with a straight face. I’d felt guilty.
It wasn’t the guilt that led me to retirement. I
t was just one of the many factors that compounded over time – my body was getting old, the traveling was taking its toll, and I missed my wife and kids so much. Bridge and the girls saw New York as their home. We’d decided that it would be best if they were close to their grandmothers, Bettina and Stef, who had moved to Chelsea after my dad and her finalized their divorce. Bettina and Stef were always willing to lend their time when Bridge had to travel for NASA-related business and for Cordello beauty-related functions. We didn’t want nannies raising them, so we worked with what we had.
“Will you consider doing guest analyst for TV?” Neri, another female reporter who’d gotten to know me the whole time I’d played, asked.
“Are you offering me a job?” I chuckled and chugged down the water bottle that was on the table.
Everyone laughed at that.
Trayton had some things lined up for me, landing a TV gig was one of the options he’d presented, but I’d declined.
I could do one or two guest spots on sports channels, but I really just wanted to be home with my kids.
“Yes…maybe,” Neri fired back.
“Then my answer would be yes…maybe.” I chuckled and the whole room erupted in cheers. I never considered the media as my friend. I’d always been a private person, but I found out that if I used the media coverage wisely, they highlighted the causes that I cared about.
Throughout the years, I’d done interviews for the charities that Bridge and I supported and the charities always received more exposure and the recipients were always grateful for that. I’d accepted that my life had more spotlight than other people’s and I found a way to use it in a productive way.
“Alright.” I said, before standing up, “Thank you everyone for a wonderful chat.”
It started with one clap.
Followed by another.
Before I was out of my chair, the whole room was clapping and standing.
My eyes started to burn and I felt my throat choke with overwhelming emotions – happiness, sadness, excitement. A hand, smaller than my own, reached for me and I pulled her in for a hug.
I’d reached the pinnacles of my dreams.
Four times over.
But she was the biggest dream of all.
Her love for me emanated through her tear-filled eyes and the dimples that had always gotten to me appeared, “I love you, Ice Man.”
I gently wiped the tears falling from her beautiful face, and I said, “I love you, too, babe. Hey whaddaya say, I got my fourth ring tonight.”
Actually my fifth if we counted my wedding ring.
Her eyes sparkled in amusement, “Yeah?”
“You promised me that after my third ring, after you married me, you’d give me anal.” My chest vibrated in laughter. The room was so loud with chatter that I was sure no one heard me.
Bridge’s mouth opened in shock. “I can’t believe –“
Before she finished her sentence, I covered her lips with mine. Savoring, remembering, always cherishing the moments that made up the fibers of my life.
And the next day, that was the picture that LA Times published to announce my retirement.
Bridge’s arms draped over me.
My woman’s lips on mine.
My eyes filled with so much happiness.
It was a good life.
No.
It was a great life.
Bridgette
“Dr. Strauss, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Luka Smirnov said in his native Russian. He was one of the newly minted Russian astronauts, his brown eyes toggling between flirtatiousness and cordiality.
“Spasibo.” I replied while I shook his outstretched hand, and before leaving him, “Izvinite.”
Scott had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I was trying to save Captain Smirnov’s reputation in my husband’s eyes. He was one of the men I worked with on the groundbreaking mission to launch another space capsule to Mars.
“He’s flirting with you.” Too late. Scott’s arm went around my waist, and I tried to contain my smile. “I’m telling you, these astronauts are just a bunch of horny fools who don’t know how to act in front of a beautiful woman.”
I shook my head at him, his eyes meeting me in challenge with a, ‘I’m telling you the truth.’
Tonight we’re attending the anniversary of the 150th successful space launch, and being around my colleagues was a treat for the mind. The Kennedy Space Center’s Apollo/Saturn V Center had been converted into the elegant venue with the extravagant lighting and extraordinary decors.
To me, there was nothing grander than the massive 365-foot Saturn V moon as the backdrop, but apparently the event organizers begged to differ.
Lights hidden under flowers shaped into stars illuminated the whole room causing me to gasp when I first entered the room.
Captain Langley approached us, and since he and Scott had met three times, I was pretty confident that Scott wouldn’t see the other man as another “horny fool.”
My husband looked magnificent in his two piece Brioni suit. I loved the way the Italian brand’s clothes showcased Scott’s chest and the timeless fashion enhanced his angled facial features.
Scott had taken a liking to Brioni when he’d accompanied me to Italy when I acted on behalf of my mother’s business. We’d spent two months there, which happened to be during the off-season for football. Scott had toured Italy during the day while I was busy working with my mother’s business partners. I didn’t know much about how Cordello Beauty operated then, but I was willing to learn. Seven years and many trips later, I pretty much knew what went on behind the scenes.
I would never be comfortable with the day-to-day business operations, but Mother was there for that and so was Tre.
Italy would forever hold a special place in my heart.
It was the place where Eliza was conceived and then twenty months later, Cassidy took root in my womb.
I was talking to Dr. Yeti, a computer programmer who’d been aboard STS-124 to deliver and install the Columbus module to the space station, when I caught my husband’s eyes.
He was giving me that look.
That look that meant it was a great idea that we left the girls with my mom who had surprisingly become the best grandma along with Stef, Scott’s stepmom, who had sleepovers with my mom when the girls were left at my mom’s house on Park Avenue.
Tonight I was wearing a conservative Chloe silk black dress, but the Bordelle triangle bra and thong underneath it were anything but.
I loved surprising my husband with the hidden naughtiness beneath my clothes. Rianna had gotten me into them, and now I couldn’t live without them.
No one but me knew what went on inside my husband’s mind when he saw me in dresses and the suits that I wore when I traveled to Texas as a consultant to the Space Ex project.
“What time are we getting out of here?” Scott said as I leaned towards him. “My head hurts from all the science talk.”
I smiled. “Your reward’s gonna be big later.”
“Really?” His green eyes brightened with mischief. “Will I finally get anal?”
He liked to tease me about it, and I’d given him the permission to do it, but he didn’t really want to do it. He said it was for exit only. He did, however, love to spank my butt until it stung a bit.
“Shush,” I pretend scolded. “Behave. I need to get Dr. Marsden’s approval for the grant.”
I’d been talking to my old college professor about the needs of future astronomers and she’d said Dr. Marsden, the woman who pioneered space propulsion and energy storage, was the right person to approach.
I’d been fortunate enough to achieve my dreams. Gone twice to Space to solidify my space experience, and was now working with amazing individuals who shared the same passion as I did.
“God, I love it when you’re in your sexy doctor mode,” Scott teased. I’d gotten my doctorate in Astrophysics when I was pregnant with Cassidy. It wasn’t easy and it took me longer than I wanted
, but my baby girl was worth it, and when Scott finally retired from football, I was able to fully focus. Within months of his retirement, I earned it.
Scott’s hand was warm against my arm and for a second, I felt impatient.
Scott must have sensed it because he asked, “What is it, babe?”
I could never hide anything from him.
“I dunno. I just had a feeling that I want to go home now.” Home tonight was a hotel room, but as long as he was in it, it was home. “I just want to be with you.”
His green eyes melted with lust, but his words burgeoned with understanding, “It’ll be over soon.”
I nodded and looked around the place where the brightest minds talked about research and their accomplishments.
I wondered what it took for them to get where they were.
I knew what it took for me.
It took years of sacrifice, and sometimes the pain was too much to bear and I wanted to give up.
It took months of no contact with the man I loved because we were both centered on making our dreams realities.
It took a lot of dedication from our families, and years of healing wounds that had become infested in our souls to finally say that I had everything I wanted.
Scott’s dad wasn’t completely in the picture, but he did spend time with his granddaughters. As often as Scott allowed him.
It was getting more frequent these days and even if his dad and his stepmom would never get back together, they were civil in front of Cassidy and Eliza.
“I’m so glad I’m here with you instead of spring training,” Scott voiced out, and I kissed the top of his hand, careful not to smudge it with my lipstick.
I knew he missed football, but he’d made the decision to retire so he could spend time with us. He was still involved in other ways – the training camp he’d set up with his best friend, Rikko, kept him busy and he did a couple of guest spots on TV when asked, depending on the girls’ schedule.
It was hard to believe that eighteen years ago, this man asked me to get into his car.
Hard to fathom that his green eyes would be the comfort to me at moments that seemed to break me.