She takes me down to the field and introduces me to a few more people and some of the players. A couple of them ask for my number, to which I tell them to call the station. They act surprised and maybe hurt but laugh it off. It’s when I’m standing there, looking around at the crowd of people filing into their seats, that I spot Julius. He’s at the wall that separates the spectators from the field, and he’s holding a little girl in his arms. There’s a woman in front of him, and she cups his face with her hand. I feel . . . angry when I see this happen in front of me. This guy was nothing but a complete jerk to me and yet, made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Desire and longing, even though our exchange was anything but cordial.
Julius turns and sees me staring. His soft features turn hard, and he hands the young girl back to the woman. “Definitely his wife,” I mutter to myself. My problem is I can’t look away, even as he heads toward the field. I’m watching him and the woman. Back and forth, my head goes until I finally give up. My first encounter with Julius was anything but enjoyable and needs to be forgotten.
The teams leave the field but only for a few minutes, according to Aiden, who is standing next to me. He gives me a run-down of what will happen while the stadium crew sets up for the game. It’s like the atmosphere changes on a dime when the music switches. The crowd goes crazy, and instantly, there are people around me. Both teams come running out onto the field, and the Pioneers are bouncing on their feet, working everyone up.
“Welcome to today’s match-up where we’ve been promised to have nothing but clear skies for the day.” Everyone cheers, and suddenly my cheeks are on fire. The announcer goes through the starting line-ups, the National Anthem is sung, and then it’s my turn. “Let’s welcome to Portland, the newest member of the MCAX team, Autumn LaRosa.”
I step out onto the field, turn and wave, take a few more steps and continue to wave until I’m at the center of the field, where a referee and six hulking men greet me. The only one I focus on is Julius. He’s glaring at me. If he were a bull, there would be steam coming out of his nostrils.
The referee puts the large gold coin in my hand after showing it to the men standing in the circle. Julius yells out tails. I toss the coin and wait for it to fall.
“Heads,” the referee yells, much to the delight of the other team, who runs off toward the sideline.
Julius stands there, staring off. He finally looks at me and seethes. “If we lose this game, it’s your fault.”
Eight
Julius
When Elena touches my face, I want to bat her hand away, but I can’t. The media reports on our marriage have been nothing but speculation at this point and I’m not interested in giving them anymore dirt. The segment Reggie saw on the entertainment show was denied by Elena’s team, even though everything the clip said was true. She’s having an affair or had one, and we’re getting divorced, except neither of us have submitted the necessary paperwork or spoken to an attorney. I’m hoping everything can be agreed to without bringing lawyers in because then it just gets messy. I know what I want. I know what she wants. I also know what she can have or I’m willing to give her. Money is out of the question unless the kids are living with her full-time. I’ll support my kids, but not her. Not after she’s done me like this.
However, this pretend shit has to stop. I don’t want to play nice for the cameras and it’s only sending the wrong message to the kids. With Elena standing in front of me acting like she’s the doting wife in front of our parents, I can only see Reggie’s eyes. He doesn’t hide things well and the straight up confused look on his face screams loudly. Everything happening right now doesn’t jive with what we discussed a couple weeks back, and that’s his mother’s fault. She knows I’ll play nice for the media because a confrontation right now would take away from the game, and make me look like a complete asshole.
“What are you doing?” I ask her. My voice is calm because I’m holding Roxy in my arms. Her tiny arms are clinging to my neck and her head is resting on my shoulder pads. Again, this is her mother’s doing. The “let’s show the world we’re one big happy family” moment Elena strives for. Public perception is everything to her. It is to me as well, but faking it is becoming too hard and the effort is exhausting.
“She wanted to see her daddy,” Elena says. Okay, I can give her that. I spent the night in the team hotel because it’s policy and worked out perfectly for Elena to come see the kids. I knew the kids were coming to the game with my parents but didn’t expect Elena to show up—or her parents for that matter.
I bounce Roxy on my hip and look at her. “Did you miss me?”
She nods and sticks her thumb in her mouth. Over the past few months, we’ve been working on not sucking her thumb, but I think all this shit with Elena not being around has made Roxy regress a little. I could be wrong. I’m certainly no expert on parenting a toddler.
“On Tuesday, we’ll go to the zoo or something,” I tell her. It’s my day off and I fully plan to spend it with her.
“That’ll be so fun.” Elena reaches across the railing and runs her hand down Roxy’s hair. “I’ll check the weather and make sure we have the right clothes.”
And this, right here, is what I have a problem with.
“Elena, when do you go back to California?” I ask in a harsh, biting tone meant to be direct and to the point. If the enunciation of my words doesn’t send the message, then my facial features should definitely do the job.
“I thought I’d stay for a bit.”
I nod. “Then we’ll work out some living arrangements.” I start to hand Roxy back, but the announcer’s voice stops my movements. I hear the name that has grated my nerves since our first introduction. I look around, to my left and then right, to find the woman who hasn’t been far from my thoughts, despite my desperate attempt to keep her out of my head. For some reason, I loathe her while, at the same time, feel like I should get to know her. Still, when I stare at her, I find her irritating and I can’t place why. What I’m feeling has to be more than me assuming she’s using Peyton to further her career, but then again, she’s standing on the sideline, watching me, and proving my point. She used Peyton to get here today.
I give Roxy a kiss on her cheek and then hand her back to Elena. “Good luck today,” she says as her hand caresses mine. I really want to tell her to take a hike, but the kids are near her and so are her parents, who I have a feeling know nothing about what’s going on. Whereas my parents know everything. Reggie holds his hand up for a high-five and tells me to kick some booty. We fist bump and go through our handshake routine. I’m not superstitious, but I believe in rituals, and this is something Reggie and I do whenever we’re at a game together. When we have an away game, we do it the night before I leave.
The team leaves the field to go into the locker room. It’s more for a pep talk than anything else right now. Bud Walter stands in the center of the room. Each player takes a knee, almost like we’re bowing to him. I suppose, in a sense, we are. Today, like any other day, he’s our leader. The commander. We’re going to do or at least try to do everything he’s asked of us. To some, Bud is a coach. A guy who is paid millions of dollars to tell athletes what to do. To us, his Pioneers, he’s our confidant and a father figure. Bud cares about us and not the scoreboard, which is a far cry from some coaches out there. The only problem with this is, if we don’t start winning to the point where we are in the playoffs and a Superbowl contender—Bud could lose his job. Worse, trades will start to happen. We’re on the cusp and I feel like this could be our year.
A team rep lets us know it’s time to go back onto the field. Game day is all about the media and what they have worked out with the NFL. They set the schedule and we follow it. It’s all about the show and when it comes right down to it, we’re the entertainment. We run out to music, which honestly, we can’t hear because the crowd is that loud. We are currently 3 – 0, and the city loves it. The fans do as well, and more are jumping on our undefeated ban
dwagon. Whatever, I’ll take it.
As I run out, I salute Reggie and Roxy, letting them know I’m thinking of them. Along with me are Jesse McAvoy and Tank Arthur. We head to the center of the field and shake hands with our opponents. It’s then that I see the weather girl walking toward us.
“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath. How did I not hear that she was here to do the coin toss? If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I can’t stand her, yet I find myself focused on what she’s wearing. Any other time we’ve had a woman out here, she’s in heels. But not Autumn. She’s in flats, with tight fitting jeans, and a Pioneers T-shirt. Her long dark hair is braided, but it’s not one of those tight ones I’ve seen so many times. This one is messy, almost as if she didn’t care she was going to stand in front of thousands of people and do something important. Well, it’s important to me. To the teams playing today. It might not be to her.
The referee starts talking, repeating the same thing we hear week after week. Autumn stands in the center of us and asks if we’re ready. Everyone nods or mumbles a response, except for me.
“Home team, what’s your call?”
“Tails,” I say as I meet Weather Girl’s gaze. She tries to smile but her attempt fails. She takes a deep breath and then tosses the coin in the air. All eyes are on it as it spins through the air, somersaulting until it bounces on the turf and then finally settles on a side.
“Heads!” the referee yells out and instantly turns his attention to our opponent.
I’m fuming. I have never lost a coin toss at home before. Ever. And this chick shows up and we lose. I find myself stepping toward her. “If we lose the game, it’s your fault.” Her mouth drops open, but she says nothing. I don’t give her a chance because I’m running toward the sideline. I’m not paying attention to where I’m going and almost run right into Noah.
“Well, this is different,” he says. I know he’s joking but I’m not in the mood. Not between my ex showing up and now the weather girl. Why can’t I have a normal day where nothing bothers me?
“Why is she even here?”
Noah looks at me. “Who?”
I shake my head. I’m not sure who I’m referring to, Autumn or Elena. Both of them are in my head and that’s not a good place for either of them to be. Especially right now. I don’t know what it is about Autumn but I need to get her out of my thoughts. In the long run, she’s inconsequential to me. She’s nothing and her presence should not have any effect on me whatsoever. Elena on the other hand, I have to find a way to deal with her and set her straight on the reality course of life—we’re getting a divorce. I’m not going to pretend that she didn’t have an affair and brush it under the rug because she’s had a change of heart.
* * *
We won the game, and instead of celebrating with my teammates, I’m hiding out in the training room. I waited until everyone left before getting into an ice bath. I played like shit and needed to numb the stench of feeling like a loser away. Our trainer is chatting away, but I’m not listening. I’m fucking cold, my limbs hurt, and my muscles are tightening up. I need to get out but I’m stubborn and want to make sure the locker room is clear before I head in there.
During the game, Coach ripped my ass. I dropped too many passes, couldn’t complete a route, and ran right into tackles. He asked me one too many times what the hell was wrong with me. I wanted to tell him, but I have a strict “keep home life at home” policy. No one on the team needs to know that I’m bothered by Elena being at the game or how phony she is for the cameras, and they really don’t need to know that being in the same vicinity or hearing Autumn’s name infuriates me to no end. The latter I can’t explain and it’s really bothersome.
The trainer tells me time is up. He’s right, even though I don’t want to admit it. I put my hands down on the top of the tub and push myself up, only to stumble back into the water.
“I knew you were gluttonous for punishment when you got in,” the trainer says as he puts his forearms under my pits and guides me to standing. “You good?”
I nod and step out. I’m shivering and my teeth are chattering. Fuck, am I stupid or what? He hands me a couple towels and tells me to warm up. I could go into the sauna or steam room, but I opt to head to the locker room. At some point, I need to face what’s waiting for me at home. Elena can stay in the apartment with the kids while I get a hotel or something. I know they miss her and the last thing I want to do is take what little time they’re getting with her lately away.
Thankfully, the room is clear of any team members when I walk in. I change quickly, run a comb through my hair and grab my things. On my way out, I pass a few staff members who greet me, but don’t tell me I had a good game because they know I didn’t and there is zero point in lying to me. I sucked ass and I should’ve been benched. Hell, if I were the coach, I would’ve sat my ass after my first fumble.
The parking lot is empty of cars except for a few. I think I’m in the clear until I hear my name. Elena and the kids are coming toward me. I drop by bag and crouch down, waiting for their tiny arms to wrap around me. They’re my salvation, my reason for living.
“Tough game, Dad.”
“I know, buddy. I’ll do better next time,” I tell Reggie.
“Guess we aren’t going to watch the game film, huh?”
I shake my head. “Miss Peyton is going to have enough to say to me when I see her on Monday, I don’t want to have to live through it more than once.” Reggie nods. For being eight, he gets it.
“How come you guys are still here?” It’s rare that they wait for me after the game. Since Elena left, my parents have taken on the responsibility of taking the kids home after the game.
“Mom said we should wait for you.”
I glance at Elena, who waves. The gesture is off-putting. “Go wait in the car, okay. Reggie, make sure Roxy gets buckled up.” My son reaches for his sister’s hand and takes her toward the SUV. When they’re inside and the door is shut, Elena comes toward me with her arms out as if she’s going to hug me.
I hold my hands up, motioning for her to stop. “What the fuck, Elena?”
“What?” she asks, looking surprised.
“What do you mean ‘what’? What are you doing here? More importantly, why are you still here?”
“Julius, stop.”
“No, I won’t stop. You chose another man over your husband, over your family. And you think it’s okay to show up here, with your family in tow, to what, freeload off of me? How come you’re here but couldn’t make it to Reggie’s game yesterday? Neither could your parents?” Just as I mention her parents, they appear from behind my SUV and walk toward us. “Fucking great,” I mutter. “I don’t have the patience to deal with your shit, Elena. Or this,” I say as I point to her father.
“Julius,” her mother says. “All this fighting isn’t good for the children.”
“No shit,” I say. “But neither is showing up unexpectedly at my game, pretending like we’re all one big happy family. I played like shit today because of you.” I point at Elena who gasps. Her father puts his hand on my arm and I swing my arm up to get him away from me.
He stumbles and goes down onto his knee. Elena and her mother start yelling, and I can hear the kids crying from inside the car.
“I’m done. I’m so fucking done, Elena.” I head to my car, needing to get to my kids. There’s a voice in the back of my head telling me to look over my shoulder, and when I do, I find Weather Girl there, watching everything.
“Just fucking wonderful.”
Nine
Autumn
Despite it being fall, the weather in Portland is gorgeous. The days are unseasonably warm—at least to me—and the colors of the leaves are so vibrant, I feel like I’m looking at a painting. Each morning, I start my day with a run along the harbor and stop at one of the many food trucks I come across for breakfast on my way back. Some days, I sit on one of the many benches and people watch. It’s incredible what kind of st
ories you can come up with about someone you don’t know just by focusing on what they’re doing.
I’ve created a nice routine for myself. On Tuesdays, I meet Peyton for brunch. It’s her one day off during the season, and we’re taking advantage of it. Every day, I tell Aiden I’m thankful he mentioned her on my first day because she and I have bonded and become really great friends. I’m grateful for her and also for Noah, who is one of the nicest men I’ve met in a long time. That’s not to say the teammates Noah’s introduced me to aren’t lovely. Most are, except that one.
That one, in particular, seems to hate me, and I can’t figure out why. Julius definitely has the wrong idea about me, and from what Peyton has told me, he’s one of the nicest guys out there. I don’t see it, especially after everything I witnessed on Sunday, which I plan to ask Peyton about when I see her.
After my shower, I put my hair in a loose braid, slip into a pair of leggings and throw on an oversized sweater. Having a wardrobe at work is a godsend. I absolutely love the lack of stress that comes with this perk.
The café Peyton and I are meeting at is halfway between our respective places. While I’m on the water, she and Noah live about six blocks away from it. Of course, their view of the harbor is something I’d take in a heartbeat over the proximity. Don’t get me wrong, I love my apartment and the location, but the idea of sipping my coffee from my balcony while looking over the city is appealing as well.
Peyton is already at the table when I arrive. She waves and tells me she already ordered us mimosas as I sit down. “How was your run?” I’ve begged her a couple of times to come with me, but she declines. I wonder if it’s because she genuinely doesn’t like to run or if this has something to do with her accident. I did look it up online, and it was horrific. The article I read said she wasn’t expected to survive, and the interview her dad gave was heartbreaking. The way Noah hovers over her, it’s like he’s waiting for something to come out of the sky and take her away from him. It’s endearing and completely makes sense to me now that I know about the trauma she’s been through.
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