Saving Barrette

by Shey Stahl

  That’s the answer my agent tells me to say, but in reality, I don’t know how I feel about playing in the NFL. It changes a lot about our lives. For the past three years, we’ve been living in Seattle together with Joey and Terrell. We graduated last year, just five months after Crew was born. Since then I played in the All-Star League and entered draft eligibility in January along with Terrell. In February, on a rare snowy day in Seattle, I married Barrette Ann Blake.

  I couldn’t afford a fancy wedding, not like the one I wanted to give her. When you’re in college, it’s just not happening. Believe it or not, Barrette’s parents actually paid for the entire thing and then refused to attend when we didn’t want to serve tofu. They’re still really fucking weird and haven’t met their grandson yet, so I’ll let you be the judge of their integrity there.

  Since then, Barrette’s been interning in Bellevue at a sexual assault victim’s clinic and working toward her masters in psychology. What would today mean if I ended up on the other side of the country from my son and wife? For a long time, I thought about getting a job instead of football. I had my degree, but I knew if I didn’t go for it, I’d always wonder. With Barrette’s support, that’s what’s brought us to today.

  When the draft officially begins, Terrell and I are much the same—our house teeming with people and the two of us on edge. After today, our lives will be completely different and this guy who’s held me up and pushed me to be the best football player and human being, I hate that we’re more than likely playing for different teams next year. He’s pretty much a sure bet for Pittsburgh, and they’re not in the market for a quarterback this year.

  “Relax, man. It’s good,” Terrell says, bobbing his head to the beat of the music playing in his earbuds, an attempt to drown out the noise in the house. “We’re solid.”

  “I’m trying to.” And I am, but I’m pacing, tension rolling through me.

  And then it happens. An hour before the official start of the draft, I get a call from the GM of the Arizona Cardinals, the team I knew was highly interested in me. My hands shake as I stare at the phone. Cheering erupts in the background. They all know what this call means.

  I look to my agent and he smiles. “It’s for you, A.”

  Barrette moves toward me, rubbing my back. “I love you. No matter what, I love you.”

  I want to say it back to her, but all I end up doing is nodding. I slide my finger across the screen and press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Asa, this the Kenny Mann with the Arizona Cardinals. How are you doing?”

  Reality smacks me in the chest and I struggle to push the words out. I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I’m doing good, Mr. Mann.”

  “Call me Kenny, son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There’s more laughter from him, cheers next to me, and then “Let me ask you a question.”

  I wave at everyone to be quiet and press the phone harder to my ear. I can barely hear him in contrast to the noise around me. “Okay.”

  “I got you on speakerphone here, but what we want to know is how you feel about the heat.”

  I run my hand through my hair and then bite my nails. “I… uh, heat’s good. I think I’m a little soggy here in Seattle,” I tease, trying like hell to lighten the mood and steer the conversation away from how nervous I am.

  More laughter in the background, and he says, “Well, Asa, let me ask you another question.” He pauses, maybe for the dramatics of it all considering he knows we’re being recorded today by dozens of news outlets. I wait with unnerving anticipation before he finally asks, “How do you feel about being the first pick of the draft?”

  I push out a breath, tears stinging my eyes. I look at Barrette holding Crew, and finally a sense of relief washes over me. “That sounds good to me.”

  “Good, good. I have to go back to the draft room but welcome to the Arizona Cardinals, son.”

  “Thank you, Kenny.” I hang up the phone and set it on the counter. I look at Barrette, Crew on her hip. They’re both smiling. I’m sure Crew doesn’t even know what today is, but the fact that I’m met with their smiles after that phone call, it means the world to me.

  “It’s looking like Arizona,” I tell everyone waiting and then move toward Barrette. I watch her face, the happiness, the tears, the nerves, it’s all there. It’s a big day for our family. I press my lips to her forehead and wrap my arms around her and Crew. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I go where you go,” she says, repeating my own words back to me. I said that to her after her trial ended.

  I breathe out a sigh and slide my lips to her ear. “I love you.”

  An hour later, it’s announced to the world. “The Arizona Cardinals choose Asa Lawson, University of Washington, as their first-round pick in the 2018 NFL draft.”

  With the announcement, I look at up the ceiling and think maybe— No, I know my mom played a hand in today.

  The remainder of the night is a blur. I’m serious, I don’t remember a fucking thing that happens other than getting drunk. Terrell is chosen in the first round by the Pittsburg Steelers, and I think Joey is more excited than him, but you never can tell with Terrell. He does smile at me and knocks his knuckles to mine. “A, we’re in.”

  “Looks like it.” Statistically speaking, 2 percent of NCAA college football players make it to the NFL, and we did.

  Not long after, when the majority of everyone is gone, I’m holding a sleeping Crew in my arms. My dad’s next to me on the back patio watching the flickering of the fireplace through the window.

  He turns to look at me, smiling. “I know this might not mean anything now, because I should have said it a long time ago, but I love you and I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t say it. I didn’t show it the way I should have, and I fucked up over the years, but you were always what was most important to me. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if I hadn’t gotten the chance to be your dad.”

  I smile at him and then look down at Crew, brushing his thick blond hair from his forehead before kissing him. I know exactly what he means.

  It’s after one in the morning before everyone leaves for the night and Barrette and I are alone in our room. I sink down to my knees in front of her at the foot of the bed.

  She looks down at me, so sure, so happy. “I’m so proud of you.”

  It feels weird hearing her say that to me. I should be saying it to her. She’s come so far since that night her life was destroyed. Now she’s a mother, a wife, a friend, an amazing woman, and she’s mine. All mine.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, my head on her chest listening to the steady beat of her heart. It calms me in a way I hadn’t been expecting. This girl, she’s my future just as much as playing in the NFL, and without her, I don’t think I would have gotten here. I wanted to quit so many times and give her a stable life. But just like I did for her, she pushed me forward and kept reminding me of the goal. I think about the signing bonus, the salary they offered me, and though I knew it wasn’t a guarantee, finally I can provide her and Crew with a life we only dreamed of having. The life they deserve. “I’m proud of you, Barrette,” I tell her, hoping the intention of my words isn’t lost in the moment. She needs to know that she should be proud of what she’s overcome.

  She ruffles my hair, winking. “Me too, Bear.”

  I snort at her use of her pet name for me and know that we’re gonna be okay.

  8 Months Later

  Glendale, Arizona

  State Farm Stadium

  Pittsburgh Steelers Vs. Arizona Cardinals

  “Holy shit, it’s like an oven outside!” Joey says, closing the door to the suite.

  “Try being here in August,” I tease, handing Crew his snacks and then turning back to my pregnant best friend who I haven’t seen in months. Not since their wedding in August. Not long after Terrell was drafted, they moved to Pittsburgh. Joey’s back in school at the University of Pittsburgh working on her master’s in neuropsych
ology. “I can’t believe how much I missed you!”

  Joey hugs me to her chest. “Not as much as I missed you.” She grins and glances at my very pregnant belly. Yep. Baby number two on the way. “When you’re pregnant, you look similar to a normal-sized person.” I laugh, and her eyes drift to the rock on my finger. The one talked about in all the tabloids and gossip magazines. The one the star quarterback of the Arizona Cardinals bought his wife when he knocked her up the second time. “Can you even lift that finger?”

  “Oh, stop. It’s not that big.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Between having Crew, Asa entering the draft and then signing with Arizona… let’s just say I’m not sure I remember much from the last few years. Other than raising a baby. Is it weird to say I feel whole pregnant? I know, bizarre thought, but I do. I don’t have nightmares. Not a single one while I’m pregnant. Asa finally made me whole again by putting his baby in me. I know, that sounds so completely wrong, but it’s true.

  Asa and I moved to Phoenix in late April right after training camp began and bought a house, and then I got pregnant. Again. While I’m literally due any day now, I’m still going to school too, trying to get my master’s in psychology. I had been volunteering at a local women’s clinic where I assisted a sexual assault counsellor in Phoenix. I’d like to go as far as to say that I’m whole and healed and nothing fazes me anymore after five years, but every time I heard a victim’s story, it brought me back to that night. I didn’t want to relive it anymore. I wanted to move forward, but I also wanted the strength to know that just because it happened to me, it didn’t define the rest of my life. For about three months I pushed through, but when my mood started changing and depression begin to hit, I knew I needed to make a change. Not only for me, but for my family. I couldn’t go down that road again.

  For that reason, I had to separate myself from it. I’m still pursuing psychology, but I’ve switched focus to developmental psychology. It helps with learning how my almost two-year-old son can be so sweet one moment and throw himself down on the floor next and scream bloody murder over his fruit snack stuck to his shirt.

  Joey laughs and rubs her swollen belly. “He reminds me of Asa.”

  I frown. “Why, because they both throw fits over their food?” It’s true. If Asa doesn’t have food every two hours, he’s the clinical definition of hangry, if that was a real word.

  “I can’t believe we only play each other once a year,” Joey says, taking a seat next to the window overlooking the field where the Steelers are warming up.

  “I know.” Crew is at my feet, still crying over his fruit snacks stuck to his shirt.

  Joey glances over at him and rubs her swollen belly. “I seriously can’t wait to have this baby.”

  “Ha.” I move to sit next to her, realizing how incredibly uncomfortable and hungry I am. I swear, I never stop eating when I’m pregnant. “Ready for nonstop crying?”

  “He doesn’t cry that much.” She picks Crew up and places him on her lap. “I’m just really ready to be a mom, you know?”

  I look at Crew, who’s smiling, and I know exactly what she’s talking about. I never thought being a mother would make me feel this way. The day I had Crew, Asa left me a mason jar in the hospital room with the quote:

  Of course it made me cry because I feared being a mom. God, did I fear it. And I don’t even know why I did. Maybe because of my parents’ lack of… caring, I thought for sure I wouldn’t know how to love the baby, but the moment I saw his face, I knew just like with Asa, I was born to love another brown-eyed boy.

  “Are you guys still waiting to find out the sex of the baby?”

  Joey grins and digs inside her purse for what looks to be two onesies and pulls them out. “We found out last week, but I wanted to tell you in person. I got Scout something from his baby cousin.” Yes, we call our kids cousins.

  Scout is the name Asa picked out for the new baby boy I’m carrying around in my belly. One of the onesies is pink and reads: Did we just become best friends? And the other is blue and reads: Yep!

  “A girl!” I gush, hugging her one-armed. “Oh my God, how the hell is Terrell going to tell her no when she asks for money?”

  Joey laughs. “I’m sure he won’t even bat an eye to it. Nothing’s breaking that man. I’ve tried. But hey, you never know. Maybe she’ll crack him.”

  “Daddy!” Crew yells, jumping off Joey’s lap and onto the ground. He presses his face to the glass. “Daddy!”

  He doesn’t say Mommy. He calls me M or you. But that’s okay, I love him enough for the both of us and wouldn’t change a thing about his stubborn, cranky butt. It’s amazing to me how kids can be the biggest monsters and we still love them despite it.

  My eyes follow Crew’s tiny hand pressed to the glass of the suite we’re in. Sure enough, the Arizona Cardinals are on the field and more importantly, my husband. It’s different watching him play in the NFL. We didn’t think he’d be a starter his first year on the team, but he beat out their current quarterback for the position in training camp and earned himself a spot. But the NFL compared to college is tougher in every way. His job depends on him giving 100 percent of himself to it and I have to be satisfied with that.

  While it was definitely an adjustment, I’ve learned that the time he does give me is so worth it. Together, we’ve created an amazing life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  The game starts up and I spend most of it catching up with Joey. That’s when we land on the topic of Roman. I haven’t forgotten about him or the way it all ended.

  “Terrell said you and Asa went to his grave,” Joey says, watching my reaction to it.

  A punch of emotion hits my chest. Not because Roman died, but because Asa and I chose to say goodbye to him. At one time, he was our friend and there were some things I needed to say to him that I never would have in person while he was alive.

  “We did,” I whisper, rubbing Crew’s back as he sleeps with his head on my extremely pregnant belly. “I think I cried the entire time. Not because I was sad, but because it still didn’t feel like justice. I felt like he got the easy way out.”

  Roman died six months ago in a car accident in LA where he was living. His blood alcohol content was .60. I have no idea how he managed to get in a car, let alone drive it. The police report said he had cocaine in his system too.

  When I heard the news from Remy, I was sad for her that her brother died. I hadn’t spoken to her in over a year and to get that news, it wasn’t easy. And then I thought about Roman, and if he ever felt guilty about what he’d done to me, and others, because there were others. Did he have remorse? Did he eventually regret it? Everything had always been handed to Roman and when I said no, he couldn’t take it.

  Asa spent most of the time at his grave cussing him out and telling him he deserved what he had coming. And I guess in some ways, I felt that way too. But, as I’ve learned over the years, change is inevitable, growth is intentional, and I’m not the same person I was the day that trial ended. I’m a mother now and we have a family. I have a lot to be thankful for, and just because my rapist got off easy, it doesn’t have anything to do with my personal growth. Clarity is power, and I finally opened my heart enough to let love in. That right there was enough to keep me from breaking down completely.

  As I stared at his headstone and his name engraved in it, part of me was thankful for the way it happened. Was it morbid for me to think that way? I absolutely love who I am and who I’ve become. I had scars on my body, but they told the story of my bravery.

  I told Asa that and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind. At first, he was pissed at me, and then when he calmed down, he understood what I was saying.

  He pressed his lips to my temple and whispered, “You are not what happened to you and I never want you to believe that.”

  I reached for his hand and smiled. “But in some ways, I am, and I have you to thank for pulling me through it.”

  We left the cemetery that
day, and I can honestly say, I don’t think of Roman anymore. If I do, it’s a fleeting moment and I redirect my thoughts to what’s important. Surviving.

  Joey reaches for my hand when she sees I’m crying. I brush the tears away. “I’m not crying because he died.”

  She squeezes my hand. “I know, girl.”

  “Joey, can I ask you something?”

  She nods, her expression one of amusement. “Is it at about…” She pauses and smiles at Crew. “…oral again?”

  I snort. “No. It’s not.”

  Her eyes soften and I know I still have that friend. The one I can count on to get me through anything, even if she lives two thousand miles away. I fidget with the onesie in my hand. “Do you remember when Maggie from our support group said it’s my book and part of my journey. It’s not his, it’s mine?”

  Joey nods. “Yeah, why?”

  “I don’t think it’s my book. I think it’s ours. Everyone’s. Mine. Yours. Asa’s. Terrell’s. Even Roman’s. We’re all in it and we each have our own chapter written in it. I think that’s why I went to his grave. I had to finish that chapter and the only way for me to do that was to bring closure to it and write his ending.”

  She starts crying. I’ve never known Joey to be a crier. Ever. But right here in the middle of that suite while holding my son, she bursts into tears. She waves her hand around when I try to comfort her. “I hate being pregnant. I’m emotional now.”

  Crew holds Joey’s face in his hands and then kisses her nose. “No crying.”

  He can be a total turd most days but this boy of mine, he has his own chapter too. The one that’s still being written and is full of life, love, footballs he sleeps with, Goldfish crackers, dirty hands, and orneriness most days, but he ties Asa and me together, completely.

  The fourth quarter of the game is a nail-biter. I don’t sit still the entire time and neither does Joey. We scream, laugh, and pray for our husbands. The game ends with the Cardinals winning over the Steelers 14-7. Both teams fought incredibly hard, and it was literally down to the last minute of the game when the Asa threw a fifty-six-yard touchdown to win the game.