I take the rest of the dip out on the patio to snag my last few moments of calm before I dive into the playoff frenzy. As soon as I finish and clean up, I head to the field. The rest of the team will be gone, but I can go over film with the coaches. The second I walk into the stadium, all of this other shit is put into a box so I can focus on the game. I won’t give Jenna another thought until the season is over.
It’s after midnight, and the coaches and I are still going over plays. Going almost forty-eight hours without sleep is not the way to start playoff week. I’d drive home, but I’m not safe to be on the roads right now, so one of the assistant coaches gives me a lift home. Once I get into bed, I call Ari.
“How’s it going?” I ask when she answers.
She groans. “It’s ugly. Daddy’s not talking to me.”
“Do you want me to call him?”
“No. You need to get your head in the game. I’ve got this covered. You shouldn’t even be calling me. Go to bed.”
I pull the covers up around me. “I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to talk this week, so I need to snatch every chance I can get. I ditched practice today, so I have a lot to make up for.”
“You did what?” she scolds. “You’re lucky I’m not there. I’d kick your ass.”
I huff. “I needed to deal with the Jenna bullshit.”
“Chase, if it isn’t football-related, it doesn’t exist until playoffs are over. Jenna and all her crazy will be there once the season is over. Get off the phone with me and get to bed. In fact, do I need to block your number until after the playoffs?”
“Come on, Coach, take it easy on me.”
“Football players are such whiners! You have one priority right now, and that is football.”
“You’re my priority,” I say quietly.
“You’re not allowed to miss me. Xs and Os, baby, that’s all you’re supposed to think about.”
This is the part of us where I never felt as though we were on even footing. She could always compartmentalize our relationship. She’d put us away when she had a tournament and pull us back out when she was done. It was scary how she could turn it off and on. Perhaps that’s why she’s always been the better athlete.
When things were bad between us, it would eat at me, but I had eleven guys on the field with me. If I had an off day, they could pick up the slack. She was on the court completely alone with no one to catch her if she fell. As much as I hated her unnerving ability to shut down everything except the court, I respected and admired her. But it sucks like hell to be shut out in the cold. At the time, I hadn’t been able to feel my awe for her over the polar blast from being locked away until she was ready for me again. I don’t like to feel cold, and I always made her pay for it. I’d give anything for her to be able to play again, but not having to compete with her career now might ensure history doesn’t repeat itself.
“I know that, Arianna, but I just got you back. How am I supposed to think about anything but you?”
“Easy. You think about that big fat Super Bowl ring, and I become a distant memory.”
I prop the pillow up behind me. “Not possible. If I’ve learned anything over the last two years, it’s that you could never become a distant memory.”
I hear her sheets rustle. “I need to go to bed, and so do you.”
“Okay, Coach, just answer me one thing.”
“Fine.”
“What are you wearing?”
She laughs. “Absolutely nothing. Sleep well.” She hangs up.
And that’s supposed to help me not think about her how, exactly? I shake my head, picturing the huge grin on her face. Such a fucking tease.
Chapter Six
Arianna
It’s a warped feeling when the child has to become the parent. I feel as if I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole and up is down and down is up. I had to look in his eyes while I helped destroy my father’s plans for the rest of his life. I’m rationalizing it by claiming that it’s in his best interest, but my motives are purely selfish. I want every day with him that I can get, and I simply refuse to share him with the rest of America. I know he has this dream of being on the call when Chase makes his first Super Bowl appearance as the perfect culmination of their relationship, but things don’t often have the perfect happy ending. Things end messily with jagged edges and cliffhangers, sacrifices and inevitably so many regrets. But I don’t care, because he’s my father and I need him for as long as I can have him.
David, Pat, and I argued with Daddy for three days before he finally agreed to stop working and start focusing on his health. David threatened to terminate Daddy’s contract if Daddy forced his hand, but that would have become news, and it would have become a story and taken away any privacy we have left. One of Daddy’s arguments was that if he didn’t announce, it would draw attention to us anyway. If it comes to that, I’m going to take the fall and feign an illness. Hopefully it won’t come to that. Hopefully Daddy’s absence will just be an afterthought that everyone will disregard. Delusional, I know, but a girl can hope.
For the next five days, Daddy gets up in the morning, hops on the boat, and fishes all day. I make dinner, and he takes it in his room. He doesn’t speak, but he sends me constant dirty looks and is full of exaggerated sighs and slamming doors. Is this what it’s like having a teenager? If so, I’m not sure I ever want to have kids.
I fought this fight so I could keep him, but have I just driven him away? I despise it when life is completely void of right answers. For once in my life, I feel out of my depth. I’ve faced things I can’t win before, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that I can’t change Daddy’s fate. But I have no idea what to do when he won’t speak me. How do break down his walls? The doctor said that this is normal, that Daddy’s not really upset with me but this is all part of his acceptance. He needs someone to be angry with, and that lucky girl is me.
The first day he speaks to me is game day. We tap into the network’s feed so we can watch some of the Niners’ practice. Chase is suited up and looks focused and determined. And hot. I wish we could be there. I wish we were on the sidelines so I could scream at him about the fact that he’s obviously favoring his left. But even though my father won’t speak to me, I love that I’m on the sofa with him.
The game starts, and in the second play, Chase is sacked, resulting in a fumble then a touchdown. We both scream at the TV that Chase was down by contact, and suddenly Daddy’s talking to me. About football but we’re talking. Are all men like this or just the ones in my life?
Chase plays his ass off. Even I have a hard time finding stuff to criticize. I miss this feeling. When we were together before, I watched each and every game, even when we were on the outs, and the enormous surge of pride, respect, and pure adoration I feel when I watch him play is like nothing I’ve ever felt. He’s truly awe-inspiring. He’s able to find such synergy with his teammates, and he moves with a commanding grace that blows my mind. It doesn’t hurt that he looks ridiculously hot doing it. If I were a bigger person, I’d admit he’s the better athlete. Since I’m not, I won’t.
Chase wins the game, and the Niners are on their way to the NFC Championship. Daddy and I spend the afternoon watching the AFC games, but he can’t focus. His head is still in Chase’s game. He glows as he regales me with play after play of Chase’s greatness in the game, which begets a verbal highlight reel of Chase’s greatest moments. He talks like Chase is the second coming. Typically, that would make me green with jealousy. I’ve always resented the bond that he shares with Chase over football. Chase in the son he never had, and they have a connection that I’ve never been allowed to be a part of.
When I was younger, I stopped at nothing to sabotage their time together. I’d feign injury, throw temper tantrums; I even went as far as to set a small kitchen fire. I never understood why Chase needed Daddy or why Daddy needed Chase. Chase had two perfectly good parents, so why did he have to take the only one I had? Couldn�
��t I ever just be enough for Daddy? But for the first time ever, I’m not jealous. I’m actually happy that Daddy has this. It brings him so much joy, and I feel ashamed of myself that I ever wanted to deprive him of it.
Chase calls me on his way to the team celebration, and I hand the phone over to Daddy. As much as I want to talk to Chase and tell him how proud I am, I can do that later. They both need each other. I feel as if there’s a game clock ticking down on Daddy’s heart. It’s morbid and agonizingly painful but true. I want to give him every second of happiness I can.
Our conversation continues through dinner, and I can finally feel the walls starting to come down. After I clean up the kitchen, we both go to bed.
About an hour later, he knocks on my door. “Hey, Snickerdoodle.”
I sit up and put down my e-reader. “What’s up, Daddy? You should be sleeping.”
He walks in and sits on the edge of my bed. “I want to go home. I want to be at the NFC Champsionship next Sunday.”
I should have been expecting this, but it catches me off guard. We’re supposed to stay in the Bahamas till February then go to Minnesota for surgery. “Daddy, we’ve only been here a week. Flying back is a lot to put your body through. Plus the whole game experience… I’m not sure this is a wise decision.”
He crosses his arms and squares his jaw. His voice stays soft, but he’s making it clear he’s resolved. “I’m not asking permission. I hope you understand, but I need to be there. I’ve just chartered a plane to fly us back on Friday.” I start to protest, and he holds his hand up to stop me. “I understand why you insisted I stop working. I don’t agree, but I understand, and I love you enough to respect your wishes.”
If by “respect” he means kicking and screaming and then not speaking to me for a week, I can’t imagine what not respecting me would look like.
“You told me I have to think about all the things I want for the rest of my life,” he continues. “I need to be there for this. I taught Chase how to throw a spiral, and I’ve been with him for every step of his career. I need to be there to see this in person.” He moves to sit next to me and puts his arm around me. “Just like if you were still playing, I would be at every one of your matches, regardless of my heart. Being there with Chase is something I simply won’t give up.”
“Okay, Daddy. It’s your life.”
Once I make this concession, Daddy lightens up, and we’re able to spend the week enjoying each other’s company. It’s one of the few times in my entire life I’ve had him to myself. I don’t have a match to prepare for; he doesn’t have film to watch. It’s just us. The days consist of fishing, sailing, and a highly competitive series of corn hole games. We eat on the deck every night, the soundtrack of the ocean behind us. Daddy tells me stories about him and Mom, ones that I’ve heard a million times and stories I’ve never heard before. He asks a lot of questions about Chase’s and my relationship, then and now. At this point, there’s nothing to hide, so I share it all.
It’s not all Hallmark moments though. Sometimes sharing memories uncovers unpleasant issues that spark hostile conversations. He’s still bitterly angry that I lied to him for so long. When Chase and I were together before, the lies flowed out of me like a waterfall. I wouldn’t even pause before spinning a tale about why I couldn’t come home or where I was. Daddy and I have always had an open relationship. He always treated me like an adult, telling me everything whether I wanted to know it or not. With me going pro at such a young age, I needed to have an adult relationship with him. I never rebelled. I didn’t drink. I didn’t screw around. Chase was my only vice, a four-year transgression, and I hid the entire thing from him. Lying to everyone else was one thing, but lying to him went too far. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Or at least we hadn’t. My deception cut him deeply, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.
At the crack of dawn on Friday morning, Daddy and I return home. The flight wears him out, but he puts on a good show when we return. The Brennan house is full of friends and family in town for the NFC Championship, so after dropping off our bags at Daddy’s house, we go to their house to greet everyone. The familial chaos is so hectic I lose track of Daddy. Pat and I only notice his absence when Katie brings out her ribs and neither one of us has to fight Daddy off of them. Ribs aren’t on the heart healthy diet, but Daddy has never been able to resist Katie’s. While Pat, Katie, and Charlie tear apart the Brennan house, I sprint next door and find Daddy’s Corvette missing.
Thank goodness for iPhone trackers. I jump in my Spider and haul ass to Levi Stadium. Knowing Daddy, this is all some elaborate plan to get on the call for tomorrow’s game. He’s crafty, I’ll give him that. He thinks I won’t make a scene in public, but that’s where he’s wrong. If I have to drag him out of that booth by his ear to save his heart, I’ll do it.
When I get to the stadium, I go on the warpath. The Niners are on the field, but I don’t see Daddy, so I storm into the visitors’ locker room. I spot him surrounded by a group of players and coaches, all with wide eyes. These grown men turn into little boys and look at him as if he walks on water. Even the players with the biggest egos and even bigger chips on their shoulders come down off their high horses to talk to my father.
For the most part, players are used to women in the locker room and don’t feel the need to hide the family jewels. They let it all hang out. What they aren’t used to, however, is that woman’s father joining her as she walks through said locker room. Daddy sees me and wisely comes to me before I have a chance to verbally assault him in front of his congregation. Watching the players quickly cover up is adorable. No one wants to risk offending the great Aiden Aldrich by sporting wood in front of his baby girl.
After the third three-hundred-pound lineman blushes and runs to put on pants, I lean in and whisper to my father, “You love how you make them cower when I’m around, don’t you?”
“There’s a reason Pat and I spread rumors that we removed the genitalia of any player that looks at you. It’s nice to see my reputation still precedes me and your virtue is still protected.”
There’s no need to tell him my virtue was stolen by his favorite golden boy. The man has the right to his delusions.
I plaster on my best smile and speak through my teeth. “You’re the one who’s going to need protection, young man. Stealing the car? Sneaking out when you’re grounded? I can’t believe I was foolish enough to let you come back here. Now, we can leave peaceably, or I can drag you out. Your choice.”
He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll behave. I promise. Just let me go see Chase and the team. Let me have one last time on the field as a Niner. Please. You know I’m a glory hound.”
I’m such a sucker. “Fine. You have one hour.”
A smile breaks across his face as he turns to leave the locker room.
“Not one minute more, mister!” I call as I follow him. I look over my shoulder before I leave the locker room. “As you were, boys.”
When I come out from the locker room onto the field, I see Daddy with Chase and the quarterback coach. I desperately want to run to Chase, but my feet stay planted. He deserves this time with my father, and my father deserves some time being a proud papa. Daddy starts playing catch with the coach. From the looks of it, Daddy’s pass makes the coach’s hand sting. He’s still got it. Other players swarm around, and Daddy’s in seventh heaven.
I stay tucked away, trying to keep a low profile, until Daddy calls to me from across the field. “Snickerdoodle, you need to get down here.”
I drop my forehead into my hand. Blindsided again! When did I lose my edge? “Daddy, these boys have a game to prepare for. We don’t need to do this now.”
“Don’t you sass your old man. Get your tushie down here.”
Did he actually say tushie? In front of a field of football players? I glare at Daddy, and he just grins. Chase puts his arm around Daddy and waves me over.
“You scared, Aldrich?” Chase calls with a gleam in his eye.
Here we are, back to old habits. In public but unable to behave as though we’re in a relationship. Everyone here knows we know each other. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for us to share a friendly hug and chat for a few minutes. But that’s not how we work. A casual embrace isn’t enough. I want to throw him against the wall and tear off his clothes. Since I can’t do that, acting like I hate him is easier than pretending we’re “just friends.”
Picking up on my reluctance, Daddy gets the team riled up, and they start chanting, “Ari! Ari! Ari!”
I meet my father at the fifty-yard line and smile sweetly. “Daddy, do we need to do this now? I’d hate to embarrass anyone in front of their whole team. Especially before an important game.”
“The coaches here don’t think you can do it,” Daddy answers. “The Saints’ coach didn’t think so either, so I’ve rigged up a little friendly competition right quick.”
The Niners coaches are giving me that look. That “oh, look how cute, the little woman is trying to play with the big boys” look.
I smile at all of them. “Bring it.”
Brian Carlson, the Saints quarterback, is brought out on the field. By the look on Chase’s face, he knows what’s going on. He flashes me a look that I know all too well. He’s challenging me, and I’m going to hand him his ass.
The Saints coach looks me up and down. “You need to change, sweetheart. I’d hate for you to get that pretty skirt dirty.”
“No, sir. No changing necessary.” I’m wearing a pencil skirt with a slight slit. I need a wider range of motion, so I tear the slit up four more inches. It pangs my heart to destroy couture, but seeing the look on their faces when I do it without hesitation makes it all worthwhile. I kick off my heels. “When you’re ready to pick your jaws off the field, I have a challenge to win.”
By the time all is said and done, I beat the pants off of them challenge after challenge. I know ESPN is filming this. Our contest will haunt the quarterbacks for years to come, and I’m going to relish in it.
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