by Peyton Storm
And then there was Paisley, who I had to keep an eye on at all times no matter what. She wasn’t a difficult child, quite the opposite actually. She’d slept through the night almost immediately, and the transition to solid foods had been effortless, as was potty training. Dad had been eager to warn me of what was to come. He was sure that just meant that for her teen years, she was bound to give me hell. Time would tell.
Belle had taken Dax under her wing, and by the looks of things, he didn’t mind. If anything, he was completely enamored and hung on her every word. When he wasn’t inhaling brisket and chasing it with guac, that is. She too seemed a bit elated to have him so enthralled, which meant we’d need a bestie chat once everyone had gone.
The only thing that rivaled my nerves that day was my odd sense of contentment. Sure, I didn’t know what kind of fresh hell lay ahead, but all of my favorite people were gathered in the same spot, and there was something incredibly comforting about the notion. Until I saw the look on Carter’s face.
I never assumed he would welcome Greyson with open arms, but at the same time, of the two of us, he was the rock. If he crashed, we’d all come tumbling down. Fear, uncertainty, it was all there on his face...but why? His peck on the cheek was in no way reassuring, but I decided to let it go for the time being. Chatting it up with Belle would have to be postponed.
Greyson stood in the distance, his poker face was much better than Carter’s for once. Our greeting led to a kiss, a suggestion, and then another kiss. A sealed envelope later, and he and Dax were gone.
I sat at my breakfast bar, needing a moment to myself. I tried not to overthink things, to not psychoanalyze every single word, glance, or gesture that had taken place over the last couple of hours. I tried. I mean, A for effort, right?
The internal jarring started off mild, accompanied by the dull thud at the back of my head. I dropped my forehead to the counter and silently wondered which would it be today, migraine or—
“What’s the dill, pickle?”
It took some effort to lift my head just in time to see Belle come sashaying in.
“Mmhmm, thought so. Eat, Chica.”
Shit, what was I thinking? I knew better. I took small bites as Belle went to pour me a big cup of iced tea.
“Unsweetened, please.”
“On the inside, I’m crying in Texan. You know that, right? Weirdo.”
She continued mumbling under her breath but filled my glass anyway. Belle hopped up on the barstool to my right. She talked, I ate, and all was right with the world.
“Does Carter seem okay to you?”
It was selfish of me to interrupt her, but there was so much gnawing at me.
“As far as I could tell. Did I miss something?”
I wasn’t sure if there was anything to really tell, so I turned the subject back to her and Dax.
“Clearly you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to, but okay, I’ll let you have this one.”
We spent the next half hour or so talking about her new air fryer, boys, and brisket.
Dad came in to check on things after seeing his last guest out. Belle made a quick exit and made sure to grab a couple of black garbage bags along the way. Of course, she had chosen to ignore me when I insisted she leave it be. She’d done so much already; I wouldn’t have been able to pull it all together without her help. Carter, too, of course. He and Paisley were still out back, allowing Dad and I to talk freely.
“Really do appreciate it, kid.”
“There’s one more gift for you to open.”
I steadied my hand and offered the plain white envelope. His brows raised in question, just briefly, and then just like a little kid on Christmas morning, he ripped it open as fast as he could, taking very little caution to keep whatever was inside intact. He seemed shell-shocked, and I could have sworn he swayed a bit.
“Dad?”
His eyes shot up, brimming with tears.
“How? How did you manage these?”
These happen to be a handful of tickets, lower level seats, to Houston’s home opener, with field passes to boot. Dad was a huge football fan. He and Paisley spent many a Sunday yelling at my television. He was going to get to see his favorite team, up close and personal, and he was damn near giddy, making my next words that much harder to say.
“They’re from Greyson.”
His joyous expression fell immediately, as did the tickets, right back on my counter.
“He’s got some nerve, that one.”
He shifted around my kitchen in search of his truck keys as though he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“Dad. Sit, we’ll have an espresso.”
He sighed heavily but ultimately gave in. “Okay, just one. But there will be no talk of Greyson nor his little bribery attempt.”
“Dad.”
“No, Presley Rae. If he thinks even for one second that those tickets suddenly make up for—”
“Dad. I really don’t think it’s like that. I understand if you can’t see that right now. How ‘bout I just hold onto ‘em for now?”
He grumbled in agreement and sipped his coffee. After lots of hugs, kisses, and to-go plates, Dad and Belle said their goodbyes, leaving just the three of us. Paisley ran off to gather her PJs, and I took that time to ask Carter how I should go about handling the tickets.
He didn’t fault my dad for thinking the worst, at least not at first. He was right. I knew he was right. But I also knew Greyson had meant well. When I first glanced at the tickets, I had assumed it was just a couple, but upon closer inspection, I realized there were actually five tickets total.
“Seems excessive.”
“Tickets that good, huh?”
“Well, yeah, that too, but...there’s five.”
Carter nodded once and turned to leave the room.
“Hey! Hold on. What am I missing here?”
No answer.
Well, okay then.
Paisley was still wired from the excitement of the day. She had every book, game, toy, and crayon she owned spread out across the living room floor. She’d go from one project to another, some she would combine. It made sense to her, at least. Carter and I sat on the couch, taking it all in. We were forever in awe of her.
Carter rose to his feet, made his way around the coffee table, and joined her on the floor. While lying on their stomachs, side by side, both began to rock their right foot from side to side. My heart.
“So, Peanut. Remember what we talked about earlier? Ya know, with Mr. Tack?
Unease washed over me, but I trusted Carter, and so I bit my tongue and waited to see where he was going.
“Did he book it?”
Paisley’s excitement cranked up a notch. How that was even possible was beyond me. Still, I kept quiet.
“No, not yet. I have another question for you, though. How do you think we should thank Mr. Tack for getting us all tickets to Houston’s home opener this coming season?”
I said a silent reminder that it was okay, that I could trust Carter with this, even though I was still working out what this was. He looked at me briefly. His reassuring wink did it’s job, and so I exhaled.
Paisley jumped to her feet, squealed, and spun in circles. She was completely beside herself. Just before she got to the range to where only dogs and dolphins could hear her, she stopped dead in her tracks.
“Wait. Who’s all of us?”
Carter then jumped to his feet as well to collect the plain white envelope. Paisley’s eyes lit up, much like her grandfather’s, as Carter laid out all five tickets, assigning names as he went.
“Here’s one for Pop-pop. It’s his birthday gift, after all. Here’s one for mommy. And here’s one for Belle and one for me. Hmm, who do you think this fifth one could be for?”
Pasley took to squealing again. She grabbed her ticket and
started running circles all through the house, yelling, “MEEEE!!!” Greyson had thought of everyone.
Paisley declared a batch of cookies were in order and asked her dad if Greyson could come over for lunch the following weekend. Carter looked to me for the okay before he agreed. She barely blinked an eye when Carter noted that he himself wouldn’t be around. When he suggested it all came down to her going to brush her teeth and pick out a story, all questions ceased, and off she went.
I sat dumbfounded, of course. Carter came over and kissed the crown of my head before making his way to Paisley’s room, but still, I couldn’t find my words. Once she was fast asleep, I walked Carter to the front door.
“Book it!” He winked and headed towards his car.
Chapter 29
Greyson
Dax gladly handed over the truck keys and before we hit the first, and pretty much the only, stop sign, his head had dropped back, eyes closed. Shit faced? Eh, maybe, but more likely a food coma. I’d still give him hell later, though. Obviously.
The drive back to the hotel gave me time to think. I’d come face to face with two, understandably, protective fathers. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to show them the same patience and restraint had the tables been turned.
The entire day had been yet another stark reminder that this was bigger than just me and Pres, and I was navigating into unknown territory. I’d never expected a quick fix, but the true weight of it all had truly started to set in. If Pres and I were meant to find our way back, it wasn’t something that could be rushed.
It’d been a long day, so once we were back at the hotel, Dax and I decided to call it a day. He promised he’d be at my suite at eight a.m. sharp.
“Sounds good, man. Here, don’t eat yourself sick.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, then took his leftovers and headed down the hall. In the south, you always left a BBQ with a plate stacked high. Full or not, your ass was gonna eat. Again. Period.
My room had been cleaned while we were out. It was back to looking like promo pics on the website. The day at Presley’s had been a lot for many reasons. For most people, it was just a small backyard BBQ, but for me, groups of people, big or small, weren’t always easy. I think the BBQ being outdoors helped a bit.
At the time, I had to focus on not being overwhelmed by all the background chatter, but once I was back in my sterile hotel suite, I kind of missed it. Even the slightest noise I made echoed right back to me. Gone was the inviting smell of home-cooked food, charcoal, and wood chips. It was replaced with bleach and disinfectant spray that burned my nose.
Sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the bottom of the curtain as it swayed back and forth while the air conditioner kicked on and off didn’t seem, I don’t know...healthy, productive? Once I glanced at my watch and deemed it far too early to crash for the night, I decided I needed to go for a run.
Texas humidity didn’t care what month it was. It was thick, heavy, and you could damn near taste it in the back of your throat. My lungs screamed in resistance, but still, I pushed, pumping my legs, feet pounding the pavement. Seven and a half miles later, I was staring down the fifty-yard line of my old high school football field. It was lit up by security lights, but not a soul was in sight. Not even a security guard when I jumped the gate.
I made my way to the home team’s bench, thinking I’d rest a few minutes before running back. Instead, I found myself gazing at the starlit sky.
“Mama? You wouldn’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into. I imagine Uncle Jake’s told you all about Presley by now. What I wouldn’t give for you to have been able to meet her. I really fuc…sorry. I really messed up with her back in school. The more Uncle Jake tried talking some sense into me, the more I pushed back. You were right, stubbornness really does run in the family. I could really use y’alls advice right about now. I can’t mess this up again.
“Presley’s a mama now. A good one too, just like I always imagined she would be...like you. There’s a lot at stake, but it’s complicated, and in a weird, selfish, shameful way, I’m glad my past with her was something you were never forced to witness. You were always so careful about bringing men around me. The difference here is, Presley’s little girl has her daddy. A damn good one too. You’ve no idea how hard that is for me to admit. But, that’s a conversation for another day.”
Just as the stars became blurry, I heard the rattling of the chain length fence rattle behind me. She landed gracefully but dusted off the front of her shorts anyway.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” she answered as she turned her head side to side.
“What is it?” I questioned.
“Oh. It’s nothing. Just thought I heard voices.”
Mama? This is Presley.
“What are you doing here? Everything OK?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, yeah. Everything’s fine.
We continued to stand a few feet apart. Neither of us really knew what to say or do. She’d come here for a reason, so I decided to hang tight ‘til she was ready to tell me why.
“So, today. It was a lot. I just wanted to check, you know, to make sure you were okay.”
When I reached out and took her hand, her fingers curled around my own.
“It was. And I am. How did you know where to find me?”
I knew that look. She was hesitant to tell me the full story.
“Well, ya know, small town and all. Front desk gave me a couple of clues, and well, I put two and two together. And I was right...here you are.”
I pulled her close and bent down to press my forehead to hers.
“Last time I saw you actually standing on this field, you were in uniform.”
“Same,” she breathed and led me to center field, the fifty-yard line.
Once there, she rose to her tippy toes and brought her mouth to mine. I tugged at her bottom lip when she went to pull away.
“I always imagined we’d take our senior pictures together, right here in this very spot.”
She hadn’t meant it as a guilt trip, I was certain. Did it sting like a mother fucker nonetheless? Abso-fucking-lutely.
We both looked to the sky just in time to catch the sprinkles across our faces. Instead of running for cover, Presley ran over and grabbed a football that had been tossed underneath the bench on the sideline. Once she joined me back at midfield, she dropped back with the ball in hand and yelled out, “Go deep!”
Instead of running downfield to catch her pass, I charged towards her. In response, she tossed the ball, squealed at the top of her lungs, and hauled ass. She was elusive, quick on her feet, and just as my fingertips made contact to graze her, she was gone. We zig-zagged our way up, down, and across the field for who knows how long.
The rain grew hard and heavy just as I finally had her in my grasp. It was coming down in sheets, making it hard to see her even though she stood right in front of me. Her ponytail had fallen, and long strands of chestnut were sticking to her face. I brushed them away, pulled her close, and leaned in to taste the rain on her lips.
She welcomed my kiss, teasing at my tongue and any self-restraint I may have had. If she’d sucked at my tongue any longer, her back would have met the turf. We were both walking a fine line, but when thunder and lightning struck in the distance, we knew it was time to go.
Once we cleared the gate, we ran to her car, jumped inside, and found ourselves laughing hysterically, as well as freezing our asses off.
“My gym bag is on the floorboard. You may find some towels.”
I reached back while she cranked up the heat. I managed to find three towels. They were on the small side but would have to do. Of the two coffee shops in the entire town, only one had a drive-thru.
“Two grande hot chocolates, please. Extra whip.” A girl after my own heart.
We took the long way back to my hotel. By the time we
’d pulled into the parking lot, I’d already drained my cup, taken the lid off, and was fishing out what was left of the whipped cream with my bare finger.
“Don’t be greedy,” she teased before wrapping her mouth around the base of my knuckle and sucking my finger dry.
“Goddammit, Presley. Unless you plan on coming upstairs, please darlin’, do behave.”
Her laughter filled the small space, and as always, it was contagious.
“I can’t. Dad’s at the house while Paisley’s sleeping. I should get going.”
As much as I wanted her in my bed, I understood her need to get back.
“Raincheck?”
“Raincheck.”
Reluctantly, I stepped from her car and watched her drive away.
Even a long hot shower couldn’t break the chill, and so I poured a glass of bourbon, slid open the patio door, and talked to Mama a little bit longer. She didn’t need to know about all the pills I’d choked back nor how much powder had been up my nose. I thanked God every single day that those days were far behind me.
The impulsive tendencies, that’s what had stuck. But that wouldn’t have been news to Mama anyway. She’d heard it from more than a doc or two when I was a kid. Yet another reason why she turned me on to football.
Presley
I was surprised to find Dad back at my doorstep just a couple hours later. He felt bad about how we’d left things, so we brewed some decaf and talked it out.
“It worries me, Presley. That kid doesn’t handle loss well, and he’s been dealt more of it than anyone his age should ever have to deal with. That doesn’t excuse his actions, though. He’s about to be a professional football player on the biggest stage in the world. I guess I’m just concerned how he’s gonna handle it all. If he crashes and burns, and God knows I hope he doesn’t, I don’t want you and my only grandbaby to be the casualties. I love that boy. You know I do. It’s his history of being so damned self-destructive...that’s what’s gonna keep me up at night.”