by M. E. Carter
Greer and her family are also here. Oli has done a really good job of staying calm and focused, despite the stress level surrounding him. He started working on a ranch a couple years ago and we all agree it’s helped calm him tremendously. Like having a connection with the animals cures a part of him that was broken. It’s weird how finding that one thing that makes you happy can sometimes be the key to so many of your problems.
The downside is, since he still has some resistance to doing the basic daily chores required to maintain good hygiene, he smells like a cow pretty much all the time. But I’m not complaining. One battle at a time.
Oli’s new baby sister may have helped him a bit, too. Yes, I said baby sister. That’s a story in and of itself. She came as a huge surprise to everyone, especially Greer, but she’s been a joy to all of us. And today, she’s also been a good distraction. Well, for a while. There’s only so long you can make faces at an infant before your mind starts wandering again.
I’m feeling so much pressure, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be on my son. I know he’s discouraged and second guessing his entire career. Did he do enough? Did he train hard enough? Did he push as hard as he could at the draft combine? I’m sure his mind is running in circles and somewhere around the 160th draft pick, he disappeared. That was hours ago. I’d look for him, but I know he needs this time alone. And probably he needs time away from the roomful of people that keep shooting him pitying glances whenever he doesn’t get called. They’re all rooting for him, but they know how let down he feels every time the pick goes to someone else.
“Joie!” I hear Jack call from the living room. “It’s on!”
I walk back into the room and sit down next to him, clasping our hands together. His thumb pushes the full-carat rock back and forth on my finger. He loves that ring. About six months ago he asked me to marry him, and of course I said yes. Will we actually go through with it? Who knows? But being engaged seemed to solidify to any doubters that we’re in this for the long haul. Not that the doubters matter. We just wanted something more officially than just “living together” so it works for us.
I squeeze Jack’s hand and bite my lip. He bounces his knee up and down. We’ve done this 185 times already. 185 times someone official has stood on that podium and announced another draft pick. 185 times of us having a sliver of hope that my son is about to reach his goal. 185 times we’ve all felt his defeat. 185 times of reminding ourselves that there are still more spots open.
We watch as a representative of the Detroit Lions stands on the stage. There are several people with him, but I have no idea who they are. Nor do I care. I squeeze Jack’s hand harder as my nerves get the best of me.
“Here we go,” I vaguely hear Hank say from the chair next to us.
“In the 186th pick by the Detroit Lions, they’ve chosen offensive lineman from Flinton State University, Isaac Stevens.”
I stare at the television in disbelief. The only sound I hear is the blood rushing in my ears, despite knowing there are cheers all around me. Suddenly, Isaac’s name crosses the screen and it hits me that it’s happening. This is real. He did it. My son is going to the NFL.
As quickly as it hits me, I’m lifted off the feet I didn’t realize I was standing on and hoisted into Isaac’s arms.
“We did it, Mama,” he whispers in my ear, his voice clogged with emotion. “We did it. I’m going to the pros!”
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” I say, my own voice full of happy tears. “You worked so far for this.”
“Dammit. Now I have to stock up on Lions memorabilia.” I barely register Hank’s latest gripe as I embrace my son. After a long moment, he sets me down and wipes his eyes, not caring that people are seeing him cry while he accepts their congratulations. For the first time, he doesn’t look like my little boy to me. He looks like a grown-up. A grown man who is ready to be out on his own. Who I feel confident will make good choices and decisions. A grown man I’m proud to say I raised to be a good man.
Jack pulls me to him as the tears continue to roll down my face. “You okay?”
I nod up at him. “Yeah. I’m damn near perfect.”
He smirks at my choice of language and holds me tighter.
Sure, it’s been a long road getting to where we are now, and an even longer day, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve never been more full of pride and joy.
Curious about Jack’s sister, Greer?
Look for her story coming Summer 2018!
Mother, reader, storyteller—ME Carter never set out to write books. But when a friend practically forced a copy of Twilight into her hands, the love of the written word she had lost as a child was rekindled. With a story always rolling around in her head, it should come as no surprise that she finally started putting them on paper. She lives in Texas with her four children, Mary, Elizabeth, Carter and Bug, who sadly was born long after her pen name was created, and will probably need extensive therapy because of it.
You can follow her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/authorMECarter,
on Twitter at https://twitter.com/AuthorMECarter,
Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/authormecarter/?hl=en
or email her at [email protected]
Other Titles by M.E. Carter
Hart Series
Change of Hart
Hart to Heart
Texas Mutiny Series
Juked
Groupie
Goalie
Megged
#MyNewLife Series
Getting a Grip
Balance Check
Pride & Joie
Pride & Joie: The Continuation