Blitzing Emily

by Julie Brannagh

  “Here we go,” John called out. The official emerged from beneath the replay camera hood, and made his way onto the field. He switched on his microphone, and stuffed the flag back into the waistband of his pants.

  “After a booth review, the clipping penalty against the Minutemen has been reversed. No penalty. Touchdown, Sharks.” He held both arms straight up in the air.

  The crowd’s roar started slowly. It bounced off the windows of the suite. The suite was full of people who patted each other on the back and smiled, but the game wasn’t won yet. They all held their breath and waited for the same thing: the point after. If the kicker made the extra point, the Sharks would win the game.

  The kicking team trotted out. Tom ran out on the field to hold the ball. Ryan the kicker lined himself up, took three steps to one side, two strides forward, and kicked. The ball rose. The noise rose as well. Emily’s heart was in her throat as she watched the ball soar perilously close to the crossbar. Time stood still while a football passed through thin air.

  The ball headed toward the left column of the uprights. Ryan shook his head. Tom threw both arms into the air. At the last possible second, the ball made a slight correction, it soared through the uprights, hit the net, and Emily let out a cry. They won.

  The final whistle blew. Confetti rained down on the spectators. Emily followed the people racing down the hallway to get to the underground tunnel, and onto the field. It took a few minutes, but the noise in the stadium was still deafening.

  The players drenched the coach with the Gatorade bucket. The guys pulled him up onto their shoulders, threw new “Super Bowl Champions” hats into the crowd, and all she could hear was the roar of almost 100,000 people in the stands. There were hundreds of celebrating people around her, and the confetti was so thick it was hard to see.

  The rolling stage was making its way across the turf. New England’s players headed back to their locker room after shaking hands and exchanging a few words with Sharks players. She looked for Brandon, but she couldn’t find him.

  Damian emerged from the confetti. He picked Emily up, twirled her around, and said, “He went into the locker room for a few moments, love. He’ll be back for the trophy presentation.”

  “Damian, you had such a great game. You got an interception!”

  “Just another day’s work,” he teased.

  “How’s your girlfriend?”

  “She’s here somewhere. I’ll find her. I’ll see you soon.” He moved away.

  In only moments, a stage was set up. A few stairs were pulled up in front of it, and microphones waited for the team owners, coaches, and captains. The Seattle fans were clustered in the stands nearby. Tom’s wife, Lauren, walked over to Emily. She was heavily pregnant, and she had another month to go.

  “Emily, it’s so good to see you.”

  Emily hugged her. “Tom was wonderful today.”

  Lauren laid a hand on her belly. “I wish Justin could have seen it. We can make a DVD for him to watch when he’s older.”

  On the stage, Shane Falcon and the FOX Sports announcers interrupted their conversation. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the victory celebration of Super Bowl Forty-Two. The Seattle Sharks defeated the New England Minutemen, 27-26, to win their very first Super Bowl championship. Let’s hear it for Seattle.” More deafening applause, and, to Emily’s amazement, Lauren put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

  “I taught Tom how to do it,” she explained.

  “Maybe you could teach me, too.”

  “Later,” Lauren assured her.

  Shane continued. “The commissioner of the NFL would like to present the Lombardi Trophy to the owner of the Seattle Sharks. Commissioner?”

  Emily resisted the impulse to shout, “Hurry up!”

  Brandon and the other team captains were heading toward the stage. The owner’s speech was brief. He thanked everyone. He lifted the trophy. Brandon, Tom and Damian climbed onto the stage, and the place went wild. Tom was first.

  “I’d like to thank my teammates. I knew this day would come. My bride is somewhere on the field. She’s having our son next month. This is for the two of them, because I can’t imagine this celebration without them. I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you, too,” Lauren shouted.

  Tom handed the trophy to Brandon. Brandon scanned the crowd until he found Emily. He gestured for her to come to the stage, and she shook her head no. This was his day.

  “Sugar, nothing’s happening till you’re up here with me,” he said, and held out his hand.

  “Go, go,” Lauren urged.

  Brandon was still beckoning her, and Emily finally moved through the crowd toward him. Harry McCord, former tight end of the Miami Kingfish, was speaking.

  “Brandon, how does it feel to play the greatest game of your career? Three sacks. Nine tackles. An interception and a resulting touchdown. Amazing.”

  The crowd cheered, and a grin spread across Brandon’s face.

  “It’s about to get better,” Brandon said to Harry, and reached down to help Emily up the stairs. The look in his eyes made her knees weak.

  Champagne dripped from his tangled curls. The eye black he wore at every game was smeared all over his cheeks. He was covered in sweat, mud, grass, and bloodstains. He’d pulled off the gloves he wore to play. Even with grimy tape covering it, his hand was big, warm, and comforting, as always.

  “I couldn’t have done this without you,” he said to her. She heard his voice echoing around the stadium, and she shook her head again.

  “No, baby. This was all you. I’m so proud of you.” She tried to smooth the hair off his face.

  “I got you something.” He laid the trophy in Emily’s arms. It was surprisingly heavy. She pretended to examine it.

  “Thank you. It’s really nice.”

  The others assembled on the stage laughed. Emily glanced down to see that their families had materialized on the field only a few feet away. Her mom and Suzanne McKenna stood arm-in-arm. Behind them were Brandon’s dad, and Dylan. Amy held their dad’s hand. She couldn’t believe her agent David was there. He hated football.

  “Baby, look, there’s your mom and dad,” she told him.

  “Your folks are here, too.” The crowd was cheering again. Brandon waited until it was somewhat quiet, and said, “You gave up an opportunity you’ve been working toward most of your life to be here to watch me play. If I didn’t know you love me before this morning, I sure as hell know now.”

  He dropped to one knee, looked into her eyes, and squeezed her hand again. She was so startled she blurted out, “Wh-what are you doing?”

  His blue-green eyes danced. They were still the most exotic color Emily had ever seen, and she knew she’d never be tired of looking into them.

  In the middle of a crowded stadium, with millions watching on live television, suddenly, it was only the two of them. Her heart was pounding. She tried to take a breath. Mostly, she had a feeling she knew what he was up to. She hoped she wasn’t wrong.

  “Sugar, I love you with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?”

  His eyes twinkled. His smile dazzled. He was at his most irresistible, and she could only guess at why, out of all the women in the world, he’d chosen her.

  “Say yes!” someone sounding remarkably like Amy shouted, followed by laughter and applause. Tears filled Emily’s eyes. The amount of adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream left her jittery and trembling, but she’d never been so happy.

  He waited patiently. It was the most private moment of their lives, and millions were witnessing it. If she was dreaming, she never wanted to wake up.

  “McKenna, don’t you know you need a ring when you ask a woman to marry you?” Shane said, and pulled the huge Super Bowl ring off his own finger. He pressed it into her hand. “Here’s a loaner till the cheapskate buys you one.”

  She pulled Brandon’s diamond ring from her jeans pocket.
“I already have his ring.”

  “Well?” someone behind her said. The smile played around Brandon’s mouth.

  “Yes. Yes. I love you. Yes,” she gasped out.

  The crowd went crazy. Brandon took the ring she held, slid it onto the third finger of her left hand, and then gathered her into his arms. The trophy? Well, Emily managed to hang onto it and Brandon at the same time. Brandon kissed her, she cried, and he said into her ear, “We’re still getting married February fifteenth.”

  All she could do was nod.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She buried her face in his chest.

  “Give Shane his ring back, sugar.” There was laughter all over the stadium at that comment.

  “Goddamn it, McKenna,” they heard Damian say, “How do you expect me to follow that?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  * * *

  EMILY OPENED HER eyes to sunshine streaming through Brandon’s bedroom windows. Anyone who’s ever lived in Seattle knows sunshine is a minor miracle, especially in February. All she wanted was a couple of hours more sleep. She was struggling with jet lag. They wouldn’t be sleeping in this morning, though. It was their wedding day.

  Brandon and Emily had returned home from New York the day before. The Met, it seemed, was fairly willing to overlook the fact she walked out on a performance. The international publicity that came after Brandon’s proposal to the diva on live television caused an awful lot of people to buy tickets. The remaining performances of La Boheme sold out within twenty-four hours. Three days after the Super Bowl, Emily flounced onto the Metropolitan Opera’s stage as Musette. Both the Hamilton and McKenna families were in the audience. She’d achieved her goal. It was better than she ever dreamed.

  Brandon kissed the back of her neck. “It’s time for the bride to wake up.”

  She let out a groan. “Already?”

  “I want to give you your gift before we have to leave for the church.”

  Emily rolled over to face him, and twined her arms around his neck. “You already gave me my gift several times last night.”

  “I sure did.” He looked pleased with himself, as he pulled her up and onto his chest. “Defensive ends are the real men of any football team, sugar.”

  “We’ve got all kinds of time,” she coaxed. “We don’t have to get out of bed yet.”

  “Your mom and Amy are supposed to be here in less than an hour.”

  “I’ll call them,” Emily said. “They can’t have a wedding without us, can they?”

  “Not so fast.”

  Okay, someone had his cranky pants on. So they started their honeymoon a bit early. It wasn’t a crime. Truthfully, they had started the honeymoon two weeks ago, but who was counting? He was trying to be stern with her, but failing in a big way. It probably had something remotely to do with the amusement in his eyes.

  “We have to get out of bed for at least one morning,” he told her. “I’ve ruined you, and now we must marry.”

  “You’ve been reading the back covers of the romance novels in the grocery store again, haven’t you?”

  “That’s where I get my best ideas.” He wriggled his eyebrows in an attempt to look evil. Emily burst out laughing. He rolled her off him, and onto her back.

  “I can’t wait till later to find out what you’ve discovered,” she said. “Fur-lined handcuffs?”

  He pinned her wrists over her head with one hand, while he reached into the bedside table with the other.

  “I never knew opera singers were so depraved.”

  “Well, excuse me, Mr. MVP,” she said. “You just wait till later. I’m going to wear you out.”

  “Those lessons on trash talking are evidently paying off.” He smirked. “I wonder if they’d miss us if we didn’t show up.”

  He caught her mouth in a kiss that she could only describe as incendiary. Finally, though, he pushed himself off her, dropped the Tiffany box he held onto her belly, and said, “If you don’t get dressed, sugar, you can’t wear these.”

  “Tease,” she shot back, but she dutifully sat up. She tugged at the white satin ribbon, pulled the robin’s-egg-blue box open, and let out a gasp. A strand of pearls, stud earrings, and a bracelet were nestled inside. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

  “Almost as beautiful as you are.” His eyes twinkled. She threw herself onto him again, only to be escorted into the bathroom. “Shower time, young lady.”

  “But I haven’t given you your gift yet,” Emily protested.

  He flipped the shower taps on, lightly smacked her bottom with his open hand, and said, “Later.”

  “I’ll—I’ll get you for that, bruiser.”

  “Promise?” He laughed, and then left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Emily grinned to herself. He would pay for this, over and over again. In the meantime, she got in the shower.

  She heard Brandon’s voice through the bathroom door a short time later as she wriggled into undergarments and thigh-high silk stockings. “Sugar?”

  “Yes, lover man?”

  She heard Amy’s laugh ring out somewhere in the background. She hoped her sister wasn’t monitoring their conversation.

  “The moms and Amy are here. I’ll see you at the church.”

  Emily grabbed a robe off the hook on the bathroom door and slipped it on as the door opened a crack.

  “You just wait, you little minx,” he said in a low voice.

  “Bring it.”

  Brandon let out a snort, shutting the bathroom door as he walked away. Amy opened the door a few minutes later.

  “Okay. The coast is clear. Wait till you see him,” her sister said.

  “I’ve seen him in a tuxedo before—”

  She cut Emily off. “Not like this. We helped him with the tie.”

  “It’s not orange or powder blue, is it?”

  “Uh, no. Let’s get you dressed and ready.” Amy pulled her out of the bathroom.

  After what seemed like a never-ending amount of time getting hair and makeup done, Amy helped Emily into the wedding gown she bought during her Meg-and-Suzanne-mandated shopping trip. Even in February, it was perfect for a morning wedding. Brandon’s pearls went on last.

  The moms stood in the doorway watching as Amy pinned the tiara and veil into Emily’s hair. Suzanne clutched their mom’s hand.

  “She’s so beautiful, Meg.” Suzanne let out a loud sniffle, and pulled a lace-edged hanky out of her tiny evening purse.

  Tears glistened in Meg’s eyes. “I knew this day was going to come. I wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

  Amy let out a snicker. “Ma, we’re adults. When did you think this was going to happen?”

  Tears or no, it wouldn’t be a family occasion unless Amy said something completely sarcastic. Emily was surprised, though, to see Amy’s chin tremble. She wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.

  “Brian must be meeting us at the church.”

  “He can’t make it today.” Amy turned away from her and picked up the tote bag with various items Emily was warned all brides needed desperately, like an extra pair of hose, bobby pins, industrial-strength mascara . . . Something was wrong, but Amy wasn’t going to tell her what it was in front of their mom. Emily would get it out of her later.

  “We’re going to be late for the pictures if we don’t move our asses now,” Amy told them.

  “Amy Margaret Hamilton, I didn’t raise you to use that kind of language.”

  Suzanne put a comforting arm around Meg’s shoulders. “I can’t even tell you how many times I washed Brandon’s mouth out with soap for saying bad words when he was a little boy. He is just like his father . . .” The two of them followed Amy and Emily down the hallway, chatting away about their children’s various misdeeds.

  The bridal party hurried out to the waiting limousine for the trip to the church. Meg smoothed the skirt of her gown. “Are you nervous, honey?”

  “No. I want to get there.” Emily twisted her hand
s in her lap.

  It took only a few minutes to drive to the little church on the hill with the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Lake Washington. They all piled out of the car.

  “Hey, it’s not too late to drive over to the burger place and get a shake,” Emily joked, but her stomach was full of butterflies. Her heart was beating a rat-a-tat-tat inside her chest. The moms bustled around them, and hurried inside the church.

  Amy held Emily’s train up so it wouldn’t brush the sidewalk. She smoothed the skirt on her dress as well. “This is it, Em.” Her sister’s eyes swam with tears, and she took Emily’s hand.

  “Don’t you start, or I’m going to start,” Emily warned.

  “It’ll never be the same,” she said, her voice quavering.

  “It’s going to be better,” Emily said. They hugged each other. “You’re not losing me, you’re getting a brother.”

  Amy let out a snort.

  “Fine, if you think that’s going to make me feel better.”

  Emily burst out laughing. They pulled away from each other, and Emily touched the pearl bracelet around her sister’s wrist.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  Amy rolled her eyes.

  “Brandon tried to buy me off earlier with something from Tiffany.” She rolled her eyes. “He probably thinks I’ll fall for it.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I see you got pearls, too.” Amy observed. “I love him, even if he is a freak. You do realize you’re going to have to feed him. How many times a day does he eat?”

  Just for a moment, Emily was six again, and Amy was five. They walked, hand-in-hand, to the first day of school. This was a different kind of school. Emily was going to learn how to build a family, and hopefully Amy would learn the same lessons, too.

  Mark Hamilton waited in the foyer with Jack and Suzanne McKenna. Emily couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but Jack took her arm. “Are you sure you want to marry my son?”