by Zuri Day
She’d been a part of conversations where women asked the question if bigger was better. Dominique could answer that in one word: abso-effing-lutely!
39
Shawn walked into Jake’s office and saw a brooding man, staring at the playbook. But Shawn knew Jake wasn’t seeing a thing.
“What’s on your mind, Coach? And don’t tell me work because I know it’s not the Panthers.”
Jake had tried to keep his mind on this Saturday’s opponents. They were the biggest challenge to the Hurricanes’ undefeated record. His lack of concentration had nothing to do with the two hours’ sleep he’d had, but more about the comment Dominique made as she slipped into her dress and scurried home. “We’re going to have to be weekend lovers, baby, so I can stay awake at work!” The casual comment bothered him, had him asking questions. Could he have a serious relationship with a career woman? And was it right for him to expect someone to deny a part of themselves to be with him?
Jake put down the book he was holding. “Taylor works in PR, right?”
Shawn sat across from Jake and nodded. “Yep, she’s had her own company now for the past five years.”
“And her being a career woman never gets in the way of the relationship? You never feel that you come in second to the career, the kids, everything else going on?”
“Ha! Of course, I do. But you forgot the dog.” Jake fixed Shawn with a quizzical expression. “I come after the job, the career, the kids, and good old Rupert, the Great Dane.”
Shawn laughed. Jake kept scowling.
“Look, man, I’m teasing. I know where Taylor’s heart is, with me. Our marriage is all about compromise and communication. It’s not always easy to strike a balance but both of us are committed to working at it. There are times when my job takes precedence and Taylor pulls back on her work to pick up the slack. At other times, it’s vice versa. If I know she’s up against a crazy deadline or dealing with a high-maintenance client, then that’s when you don’t see me joining you guys for beers. But anything worth having is worth making sacrifices for. Before Taylor and I married we decided that divorce was not an option. So we know we have to do whatever it takes to make it work.”
“It looks like so far so good.”
“Eight years, two kids, and counting. And I love her more today than the day we married.”
Jake got through practice and was especially pleased with the progress of his offensive line. That was in no small part due to Shawn and his role as offensive coordinator. The boys loved his quiet yet intense focus, and the way he made them feel that they could do anything. In this attribute, both Shawn and Jake were the same. Around them, the boys felt invincible.
Jake watched as Justin approached him. “How’d I do, Coach?”
“As I said in practice, Justin, all of you did very well. But the Panthers aren’t going to give it to you. You’re going to have to take it; keep your head in the game for sixty ticks.”
“Right, Coach.” Justin began to walk out of the locker room.
“Your mama talk to you?” Jake asked.
Justin stopped and turned. “What about?”
“Nothing in particular,” Jake said nonchalantly. “I talked to her yesterday and thought she may have discussed your latest test results. You’re killing those math scores, son.”
Justin’s lopsided grin filled his face. “Thanks, Coach.”
With the locker room once again empty, Jake walked back into his office and sent a text to Dominique.
Why haven’t you told Justin about the Raiders trip?
Jake placed his clipboard, whistle, playbook, and other items into his duffle bag as he awaited her response. He stopped when his text message indicator beeped, and picked up the phone.
I figured I’d wait until Saturday, after the game. Otherwise, he’ll drive me nuts.
Jake laughed out loud as he typed in his response. What about his mother? Any chance of her driving me nuts this weekend?
Her smiley face and LOL weren’t quite the answer he was looking for. But then again she hadn’t said no.
Jake finished clearing his desk and headed out of his office. He was in need of a good meal and a warm bed, and in that order. He went to one of his favorite Italian eateries near his home and was enjoying a beer while waiting for his order when his phone rang.
“What’s up, big bro?”
Harold McDonald was Jake’s oldest brother by seven years. Jake looked up to this military man, who’d joined the Navy right out of high school, as a second father. Though Harold was out of the house before Jake reached junior high, he’d always made time to keep in contact with his younger brother, even corresponding regularly while on the ship. He’d retired five years ago and settled near their mother and childhood home with his wife, Mary. Their four children, two boys and two girls, were all grown and living in various parts of the country. After having the first child when barely out of their teens, Harold and Mary were now living their dream of being home alone.
“Hey there, Jake. How goes it, brother?”
“Fine, man, I can’t complain.”
“Even though I took your money and won’t give it back?”
“Yeah, whatever, man. Rub it in.” Jake laughed at how Harold still gloated over his team’s victory. “I called the house last week, and your cell. Where have y’all been?”
“Sorry about that, man. My wife has me gallivanting all over the place. I’d totally forgotten that our oldest gifted us with a cruise to the Bahamas. We just got back yesterday, and after her one-hour conversation about trying to run our baby daughter’s life, I think we’re going to get another trip gifted real soon.”
“Ha! At least something good came from her meddling. Women can be a handful sometimes.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience, Jake.”
Jake didn’t respond. There’s no way Harold would know what he was going through. Mary had been a stay-at-home mom throughout their marriage—content to rule the roost with an iron fist clad in a velvet glove.
“That LA filly giving you the blues?”
Jake laughed. Harold had been extremely close to their grandfather, Thomas, the only McDonald man who’d made it into his eighties, at least that Jake knew of. Harold’s speech was often peppered with Thomas-inspired descriptions mined straight from Alabama. Calling a woman a “fine filly” was one of them. “I’m holding my own, Harold,” he finally answered good-naturedly.
“Just checking,” Harold replied. “You’re the only one of us not married, so you know we won’t rest until you’re as miserable as the rest of us.”
Jake smiled, realizing that a little of Mary was rubbing off on the eldest Mac. Harold was hiding his nosy concern behind a joking façade but truth be told, Jake knew where Harold was coming from. The McDonald men had always been the marrying kind.
“How’s everything else?” Jake said. “You feeling all right?”
“Getting check-ups every two months, like clockwork. The doctor wants me to lose about forty, fifty pounds. I need to get back on the treadmill and lay off the red meat.”
“Then make that happen, brother! We all want you to hang around.”
Both men were silent, remembering last year and the scare Harold had given the family when he’d gone into cardiac arrest at a church picnic. Fortunately one of the members was a nurse who knew CPR. She revived him and got him to the hospital with no major damage. Harold had become the first McDonald to have his heart tested and live to tell the story.
Harold broke the silence. “The wife and I are thinking about hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year. There’s a bed and breakfast not far from our house and those of you who don’t bunk down here or at Mama’s can use those rooms. So put that on your calendar. And invite that woman who’s got you holding your own.”
40
Dominique forced herself out from under the covers. It had been a crazy week and between her increased workload and her workouts with Jake, staying in bed all day sounded lik
e a wonderful, if impossible, option. She peeked at the clock and was dismayed to see that it was 9:45. The game started at noon, giving her a little over two hours to get dressed, swing by the offices, and get to the stadium. It had taken everything she had not to cancel and go straight to work, but the look in Justin’s eyes as he talked about the plays they’d planned for their opponents, the Panthers, made being a no-show not an option. She’d decided to watch as much of the game as she could and then, after the Hurricanes had clinched the victory, she’d slip out of the stands and head over to Capricious.
An hour and a half later, Dominique walked into the Hurricanes’ stands as if she owned them. She wore form-flattering chocolate-colored velvet pants, a multicolored striped turtleneck and a deep purple cashmere poncho. Her gold-colored suede and leather ankle boots took the ensemble to another level and Dominique’s flawless hair and makeup looked runway-ready. Dominique had learned a long time ago that no matter how one felt, as long as they looked good, it would be a better day.
Joining the throngs of people in the stand, Dominique looked up into the full bleachers, waving at a few of the parents she’d gotten to know since becoming an avid Hurricanes supporter. A movement caught the corner of her eye and she turned to see Travis’s mother, Kathy, waving her up to where she sat, with space next to her. Dominique mounted the stairs, opened her purple and gold Hurricanes bleacher seat and placed it beneath her before sitting down.
“Hey, girl,” she said, giving Kathy a hug. She leaned over and waved at Kathy’s husband, Ian, who was decked out in a loud purple sweatshirt and a gold and purple knit cap. He held a large, homemade sign that read: WE TEAR IT UP! His eyes were as sparkly as those of the boys on the field. Dominique noted that while Ian was not his biological father, somehow Travis resembled him. They both had light brown hair, hazel eyes, and similar builds. She guessed it was love rubbing off.
“Well, here we go,” Kathy said, holding up her cherry cola for a toast. “To 6 and 0.”
Dominique clinked her water bottle against Kathy’s styrofoam cup. “To 6 and 0.”
The game started and soon the whole crowd was enveloped in the electricity coming from the field. The Panthers were matching the Hurricanes, touchdown for touchdown, and Dominique noticed that Justin seemed to be having another off day. He’d dropped one pass and fumbled another. Meanwhile, everything the Panthers touched was turning to gold.
The longer the game continued the more quiet the crowd became. The Hurricane players seemed out of sorts while their opponents were squarely in control. The fans watched in disbelief as the Panthers made one great play after another and when the scoreboard showed 28–14 in the fourth quarter with four minutes left, you could have heard a pin drop on the Hurricanes’ side in the stadium.
In the last two minutes, Justin caught a slant pass seven yards out and ran fifteen more yards to score his only touchdown of the game. But it wasn’t enough. The Hurricanes experienced their first loss of the season. The final score: 28–21.
Dominique hugged Kathy and Ian before the dejected parents went down to the field to wait on what was sure to be equally crestfallen children. Dominique sat back in her seat, giving the crowd a chance to clear. She watched her son, who was sitting on the bench with his head hung low. Her heart clenched at seeing him so miserable. But on the other hand, she felt it was a good experience. When it came to the game of life, losing came with the territory. And in the end she felt it wasn’t who fell down, but who was able to get back up again. She looked at her watch and even though she’d vowed to be in the office by two, she knew where her priorities lay and right now ... they lay with her son.
Jake stayed out on the field to handle the myriad of reporters that gathered around him. Meanwhile, after congratulating the other players, the Hurricanes trudged to the locker room. Dominique checked e-mails and sent instructions via texting while she waited for Justin to come back out. After forty-five minutes of watching other players file out and join their parents, she was out of patience and called her son on his cell phone. When it went to voice mail, she called Jake.
“Hey, baby.”
“How’s he doing?” Dominique asked.
“The first loss is always the hardest,” Jake replied.
“Listen, I want to give him a hug, let him know I’m there for him. But it’s getting late and ...”
“And you’ve got to get to work.”
“I was hoping to get there within the hour.” Dominique noted that Jake’s comment was stated as fact, without judgment. But she felt that when it came to Capricious and the current situation, there wasn’t much she could do. It was what it was.
“We’ll be out shortly,” Jake said, and then hung up the phone.
Moments later she looked up from texting to see Jake and Justin exiting the locker room. She walked over to where her son was, resisting the urge to pull him into her arms. He was getting older and becoming less accepting of her PDAs. So she waited until they met her at the fence.
“I’m sorry, son,” she said when they’d reached her. “You played a good game.”
“I did not,” he countered. “I messed up. It’s my fault we lost.”
Dominique glanced at Jake, who motioned her to silence with his eyes. He put his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “Look at me, Justin.”
Justin reluctantly looked up.
“I thought we’d been through this already. No one person wins a game, and no one person loses it. There were a lot of things that went wrong today. We’ll shake it off, review the tape, and work like hell next week to make sure that what happened today never happens again. All right?”
Justin nodded.
Jake glanced at Dominique. “Let’s head to my car. I’ll drive you over to wherever you’re parked.” She fell into step beside Jake and her son. The area surrounding the field was almost empty, and the heels of Dominique’s boots beat a steady rhythm across the asphalt. Jake winked at Dominique before turning to Justin. “What do you say we do something to take your mind off the game and what happened today.”
“Like what?” Justin asked, as if he knew of absolutely nothing that could make him forget one of the worst days of his life.
“Like flying to Oakland so that we can watch the Raiders play tomorrow.”
Justin stopped in his tracks. “Coach! Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t tease about something like this.”
Justin let out a whoop, his eyes shining with excitement. In a moment, the excruciating pain of his first grade-school football loss seemed all but forgotten. He turned to his mother. “Can I go, Mom? Please say yes.”
Jake knew this next move was a bit risky but then again, he felt, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Your mom can come too, if she wants.”
“Yes!” Justin said, pumping a fist in the air. Then, without warning, he threw himself into Jake’s arms, hugging him tightly. “Thanks, Coach,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. Then he looked at Dominique. “Mommy, can we go?”
A war was waging inside Dominique’s head. On one side was logic—saying that it would be ridiculous for her to shuck off the day’s responsibilities and hop a plane to watch twenty-two grown men fight over a pointed ball. On the other side was love—saying that sometimes one had to do the ridiculous to experience the sublime.
They reached Jake’s truck and she allowed Justin to sit up front with him while she sat in the back. “We’re going—right, Mom?” Justin repeated, before Jake could start the engine.
“Buckle your seatbelt, Justin.” After she’d buckled her own and Jake had started across the parking lot to her car, she continued. “I’d love to go, Justin. But Mommy has a lot of work to do. You can go. And I want you to have lots of fun and remember everything so that you can tell me all about it.”
“But you’re always working, Mommy,” Justin replied, his voice reverting to the whine he perfected when he was three years old. “Why can’t you come with us?” He turned to Jake. “Don’t you want her
to come with us, Coach Mac?”
“Yes,” Jake said, looking intently at Dominique in his rearview mirror. “I very much want her to come.”
41
“We will, we will rock you!”
Jake, Dominique, and Justin sang along with the boisterous Raider Nation assembled at the Oakland Coliseum. They’d forgone Jake’s friend’s offer to join them in an executive suite and sat outside, along with the masses, soaking up bright sun and a brisk, late October breeze. For one day, Jake had also abandoned his rhetoric of eating healthy and when the hawker came by selling popcorn, peanuts, and hot dogs, he brought food for the three of them.
In a nod to Justin’s football heroes, both she and Jake wore black sweaters with jeans. Dominique’s jewelry was all silver, and Jake wore a leather Raiders jacket. Fans who noticed him shouted their hellos or gave him pats on the back. Justin’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, dressed in Raiders regalia from head to toe: knitted cap, jacket, T-shirt, and socks.
“This is awesome!” Justin cried, after the crowd had helped to successfully stop the Denver Broncos from making a first down. Justin joined in the chanting, waving the oversized foam Raiders hand that Jake had bought him. When the Raiders’ star cornerback intercepted a pass and ran it back for a touchdown, Dominique thought that Justin would leap from the stands and run down the field with him.
After the game, Jake took Justin into the locker room to meet the team. Dominique waited in a lounge, glad for the chance to check her e-mails and send a few texts. She knew she’d have to work extra hard next week to make up for the time she’d missed this weekend but seeing the smile on Justin’s face made it all worth it. And the smile Jake put on her face last night made it worth it, too.