The Last First Game

by Gina Azzi

  “It is. I hear you’re staying here.”

  I smile. “Yeah, I am.”

  “With your girl?”

  “With my girl.”

  “Good for you. I’m glad that bit worked out right for you, Cade.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  He nods, lost in thought for a moment. “Well, ten, I’m not going to preach to you. The next year is going to be tough. Real tough. But there is no doubt in my mind that you can do it, come out on top. Maybe even play football again. Just so you know, you’re still part of our team, in case you forgot.” He fixes his steely gaze on me for a beat before continuing. “That means all the facilities are available to you, and I hope you take advantage of them. If you need my assistance with anything, just ask. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Then I guess it’s time we had those beers.” He smiles suddenly, his face transforming into a younger version of himself. He reaches over the armrest of his chair and pulls two bottles of Newcastle Brown from his backpack, popping the tops off with a bottle opener. “Don’t tell the other boys.”

  I laugh earnestly and take a beer, crossing the bottle’s neck with his in cheers. “You got it, Coach.”

  “To you, ten.”

  “Cheers.”

  * * *

  The following week, I am discharged from the hospital and not a moment too soon. My room is littered with get-well balloons, floral arrangements, and cards and pictures from friends, family, teammates, fans, etc. It’s truly heartwarming and the well wishes and kind thoughts touched me more than I could ever imagine. Still, after a week of enduring an unnatural amount of kindness, compassion, and sympathy, I’m ready to have my normal life back.

  Mamma and Dad flew back to New Jersey four days after my surgery. I know they were reluctant to leave me, but after meeting Lila, I think Mamma felt I was in good hands. Dad told me that Mamma adores Lila. And obviously, he thinks she’s wonderful. Good for me too.

  Lila told me that my parents left Christmas presents for us under our tree. Mamma always manages to astound me. Of course she remembered the holiday and was prepared despite everything else that was going on. The notion gives me some comfort that she really is healing.

  Now, it’s just Lila and me.

  * * *

  When I wake on Christmas morning, I stretch reflexively, my leg simultaneously stiff and tender. I ignore the discomfort, distracted by the blond waves spread out over the pillow next to mine. Lila’s face is smooth and peaceful, her breathing even, her mouth puckered into a rosebud. She sleeps with her hands pressed together, curled under her chin like a little girl. The snowflake pendant shimmers from the soft hollow of her clavicle.

  Not wanting to disturb her, I roll to my side awkwardly, managing to push myself up into a seated position. Once sitting, I wipe the sleep from my eyes and reach for my braces, hoisting myself up and fastening the braces to my arms. I hobble to the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth, gargle with mouthwash, splash cold water on my face. I tilt my neck from side to side, enjoying the pop that clicks in my ear.

  While the guys are on winter holiday, Hendrix and Miers moved my bed to the living room so I wouldn’t have to brave the stairs each day. It was a thoughtful gesture. It’s been four days since I’ve left the hospital and I’m still adjusting to my new leg, the constant unbalance I feel, the difficulties of performing simple tasks. It’s frustrating, but Lila’s patience and presence have been positive to my recovery.

  I shuffle into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, pausing to rest at the counter. The window curtain is drawn and the sunlight streams in. I shake my head. I’ll never get used to warm Christmas mornings. Suddenly, I am incredibly homesick for the bitter cold, the smell of wood burning, numb fingers and toes, and snowballs. Jared and I always loved Christmas. We always loved winter, mainly because of snow days. We would build forts in the snow and stockpile our snowballs for battle. We would play outside for hours, our noses red and frozen, our mittens soaking wet. I liked to lie in the snow, gazing up at the bare trees, icicles hanging dangerously off their branches, threatening to fall at any moment. Jared enjoyed building snowmen best. Dad would always make the biggest one. Then, the three of us would root around in the hall closet for old winter clothing to dress our snowmen up in. We would always create a family: Mamma, Dad, Jared, and me. Afterward, the three of us would trudge our snow-covered boots inside and Mamma would tsk but serve us hot chocolate with marshmallows anyway. Dad would kiss her and smile at us, saying that he needed to warm up his lips. Mamma always laughed and swatted at him with the kitchen towel.

  I hobble to the refrigerator and pull out a full carton of eggs and a package of bacon. I know I should be taking it easy, but I want to do this for her. I miss doing simple things and making her breakfast on Christmas morning is important to me. Scrambling half a dozen eggs, I pour the mixture into a pan. Then I fry up some bacon. The aroma is mouthwatering. And nothing I’ve ever eaten on Christmas morning before.

  When our breakfast is finished, I make two plates and cover them to keep them warm. I open the cabinet for coffee mugs and smile at the snowmen mugs lining the shelf. Only Mamma would leave personalized “Cade” and “Lila” Christmas morning mugs. She must miss our family Christmases as much if not more than I do. I pour two mugs of coffee and add a splash of milk and one level teaspoon of sugar to each. Then, I wake up my best Christmas present ever.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Lila

  The delicious aroma of coffee pulls me from my dream. When I open my eyes, I’m greeted by Cade’s smiling face, a cap perched on his head to keep him warm.

  “Good morning.” My voice is still thick with sleep and the remnants of my dream. What was it?

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh! Merry Christmas!” I sit straight up in bed, surrounded by our Christmas creation. Our bed is in the center of the living room to make it easier for Cade to manage without having to take the stairs. Our Christmas tree twinkles next to me, the ornaments colorful and bright. It’s the perfect tree, the kind Cade told me that he and Jared had as kids: all mismatched ornaments, vivid colors, strewn tinsel hanging from the branches. Presents are scattered underneath the tree, and two stockings hang on the doorknobs to the kitchen and den. Our names are written in flourishing script with red and green glitter.

  “Hungry?” Cade asks me, his eyes playful.

  “It smells good.” I smell bacon.

  “Another one of our new traditions.”

  “Let’s eat.”

  I climb out of bed and rest a hand on Cade’s elbow as we make our way to the kitchen. We sit down to breakfast and cheers with our snowmen mugs.

  “To Christmas morning.” Cade smiles.

  “To a wonderful senior semester.” I smile back, tapping my snowwoman against his mug.

  * * *

  When we sit down an hour later to open presents, I’m nervous that Cade won’t like my gift. I had to elicit the help of his mom, dad, and friends to pull it off. I eye the wrapped package warily. I wrapped it in red paper with gold and green ribbon.

  “You first.” Cade smiles, handing me a small envelope, a silver bow stuck to the corner. He’s sitting in an armchair, a blanket resting over his knees.

  “Okay,” I agree, scooting over so I’m sitting closer to him. I’m sprawled on the floor, next to the Christmas tree. I slide my finger under the envelope flap and open it, pulling out the paper slowly. I look up at Cade, scrunching my eyebrows together. What is it?

  “Open it!” He tosses a throw pillow at me, laughing at my expression.

  I unfold the paper and read a letter, Cade’s handwriting scratched across the page in blue ink.

  Dear Lila,

  Merry Christmas! You have no idea how happy I am that we are celebrating this holiday together and creating our own traditions. After everything that we have experienced and endured this semester, sharing this day with you somehow makes it all worthwhile.

&nbs
p; When we met four months ago, I would never have guessed that we would be here today, lost in our own winter wonderland. I will never walk into another airport or take another flight without remembering the first time I saw you and our first flight together. I would like for us to share more flights in the future. In fact, I would love for us to travel the world together but to start, how about a night out in New York City?

  Mia, Maura, and Emma will be waiting for us at Marco’s Ristorante at 7:00 PM on January 7.

  Having heard so much about your best friends, I can’t wait to meet them and celebrate the New Year with you all in New York.

  I love you.

  Cade

  P.S. Open boxes 1-3

  I look up at Cade, shocked.

  He pushes three wrapped boxes of varying sizes in my direction.

  I roll my eyes, secretly pleased by his thoughtful gesture. Okay, here goes. Box one contains two airline tickets to JFK on January 6. I squeal, sitting up on my knees to kiss him. Cade laughs, swatting me away playfully before pulling me close and kissing the top of my head. The other two boxes include a killer outfit for a NYC night out: a short black strapless dress and insanely high black pumps. Amazing!

  “This is incredible. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to meet my friends,” I tell him sincerely.

  “Me too. I can’t wait to be back home, on the East Coast, with you.”

  “Are you sure you can fly?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to ruin his gift but also not wanting him to push himself too hard.

  He nods. “Yeah. I already cleared it with Dr. Somers.”

  “I’m impressed with your taste.” I gesture toward the dress and shoes.

  Cade laughs sincerely. “Sam helped.”

  I smile at him. “Naturally. Okay, your turn.” I hand him the wrapped package.

  He shakes it lightly, listening closely, trying to guess its contents. A surprised look flashes across his face, but then he chuckles lightly and tears into the paper like a proper kid on Christmas morning.

  When he sees the book, he stops, speechless.

  “Lila. This is really amazing.” His words are soft, full of awe.

  He turns through the scrapbook of football highlights spanning his entire career, from tossing a ball in the yard with his brother and Dad to the Stanford game. I included photos, newspaper clippings, statistics, etc. His eyes tear up slightly at a large photo of him and Jared, each of them holding up one side of a Mustang jersey that reads: Wilkins, 10. It was taken the day he accepted to play for Astor. He turns the pages slowly, memories and forgotten moments flitting through his eyes as he studies each page.

  “Do you like it?”

  “This is the best gift I’ve ever received. Honestly.” He smiles at me. “Thank you for doing this for me. It’s incredibly special. And really thoughtful.”

  I shrug. “Your mom and dad and some friends were in on it.”

  Cade laughs. “I figured. Thank you.” He leans forward and kisses me sweetly. “It means a lot.”

  “So I guess our first Christmas is a success?”

  “I’ll let you know after dinner. What are you cooking again?”

  I push Cade’s arm and let him pull me next to him on the chair, melting in his warmth, getting lost in his kiss.

  * * *

  “He loved it, right?” Emma asks, chewing in my ear.

  “What are you eating?”

  “Pretzels. Don’t get sidetracked. Tell me about his reaction.”

  “He loved it.” I agree.

  “Yay! I knew it! I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks!”

  “I know. I can’t believe you guys planned this.”

  “Hold on. I’m drinking.” Emma pauses. “Okay. Yeah, well when Cade Facebook messaged us, we knew for sure he’s the real deal. Plus, we need to meet him. I hardly know any hot athletes, so this is a big deal for me.”

  I laugh. “It will be a good night.”

  “The best. Okay, I got to go. I’m still at my Aunt Sophie’s and her little munchkins are waiting not-so-patiently to play Clue.” I hear the shriek and squeal of children’s laughter.

  “See you on January 7. Send me pics of your outfit options.”

  “Done. Bye, Li.”

  “See you.”

  I hang up with Emma and squeal. I can’t believe Cade is going to meet my friends in a few short weeks!

  * * *

  On January 6, we board the plane at the last minute. Cade swats my backside as we enter the cabin and I turn around, stepping on his toe. We laugh together, his arm coming around my middle and tugging me back against his body. The flight attendant rolls her eyes and holds out her hand to see our boarding passes. “Seats 11 A and B,” she remarks, her words clipped and annoyed.

  “Thanks.” I gently touch Cade’s arm to help guide him as we make our way to our seats.

  Cade stows his backpack, stuffed with all his medications, and my shoulder bag in the overhead bin and sits down in the aisle seat. The flight attendant stows his braces for him. He looks at me, his lips puckered thoughtfully. He holds out his hand and I place mine in it. He brings the back of my hand up to his lips and places a kiss over the birthmark that spreads between my thumb and forefinger. I smile at him.

  Cade closes his eyes, placing in his earbuds and pressing play on his iPod. Within minutes, he’s snoring lightly, sleeping soundly.

  Twenty minutes later, we are taking off, the sights of LA unfolding below us. Excitement is lodged in my chest. I can’t wait for Cade to meet Emma, Mia, and Maura! I shake my head, reflecting on the past four months as the clouds pass by my window. This semester turned out to be so different than what I originally imagined. I think back to the night before Mia left for Italy when Mia, Maura, Emma, and I ate pizza overlooking Central Park. It seems like it was a lifetime ago.

  I never anticipated meeting someone like Cade. I never thought I would meet a guy, fall completely in love with him, and start a serious relationship. I never thought I wouldn’t be preparing for medical school but would be researching programs for a master’s degree in social work. I never thought I would make such amazing friends in California like Kristen, Sam, Miers, and Hendrix.

  I’ve learned so much. These past four months have taught me so much. I feel like I’ve grown tremendously, really developed into myself. I’ve gained an understanding about my expectations and desires for the future, what my priorities are, and who I want by my side while I achieve my dreams. I’ve also learned that everyone, friends, family, strangers on the street, are all dealing with their own issues, coping with their own problems. Everyone has something their struggling with, no matter how perfect or ideal their lives seem to the rest of the world. This is a lesson that speaking with Lisa, attending therapy sessions, has helped me realize fully.

  I’ve learned to be more open-minded, less self-absorbed, and more in tune to what is happening around me. It’s amazing that I’ve had the opportunity to learn and experience so much in such a short amount of time. And, I think this is the most important lesson of all: it’s all about your perspective. Bad things will happen to everyone, but all of us have the choice to turn a negative into a positive learning experience or let it rule our lives.

  Before this semester, I let my parents’ divorce dictate my mood, influence my behavior, determine my actions. Now, I know better. I’ve learned from the experience and I know that I can take lessons away from their relationship, like how to handle things differently in my relationship with Cade. Before this semester, I would have had a completely different reaction to the sexual assault with Tom Lawrence. Now, I’m learning how to process my feelings, handle the aftermath, and turn the experience into an opportunity to help other girls who are struggling with similar situations. It’s not right or wrong, it just is. And it’s helping me heal.

  I squeeze Cade’s hand in my own, grateful that he is sitting next to me. I’m in awe of his strength and the courage he demonstrated over the past four months, the courage he unknowingly insti
lled in me to be brave, to face situations head-on, to follow my own dreams.

  And now we’re going home, to the East Coast, together. And I couldn’t be happier. I smile to myself and gaze out the window, watching the fluffy marshmallow-like clouds float by until my eyelids grow heavy and I drift off to sleep.

  I wake to the captain’s voice announcing that we will be landing in the next ten minutes. I look over at Cade and see him smiling at me. He takes my hand lightly in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Epilogue

  Cade

  The bitter cold of New York in January bites my skin the moment Lila and I exit the airport. The ground is wet with melted snow and brown slush. I keep my eyes on the pavement, searching for black ice, as I carefully maneuver my way to the taxi line. Lila shivers in her cardigan and wraps her scarf tighter around her neck. I wish I could pull her into my chest and help keep her warm.

  We both lack appropriate winter clothing and are bundled in multiple layers until we make it to her mom’s house where we can don real winter gear. I’ll be borrowing Brandon’s clothes.

  Within minutes, we are ushered into a cab, our luggage and my braces stowed in the trunk. Lila gazes out the window, her soft blond waves falling over her shoulders. She twists the cuff of her cardigan around her wrist, and I know she’s lost in thought. I smile, transported to another time, thinking back to the beginning of the semester when we split a taxi to campus. It’s crazy how much has changed in four months. I can hardly believe it sometimes.

  I remember taking the field for my last first game at Astor. I remember feeling the weight of the moment settle around me in the locker room, the last first time I would open a season as an Astor player. It’s forever etched into my memory. As it turned out, my real last game was on September 28, when I went down against Stanford. I thought losing football would be crippling, devastating, impossible to come back from. But the truth is, compared to losing my leg, my health, or my girl, it’s nothing.