by Dee Lagasse
When I reluctantly left Cole sleeping in it this morning, the sheets and comforter had been a rumpled mess. She had been sleeping so peacefully when my alarm went off at five that I just left her there. I left her a note on the nightstand next to her side of the bed asking her to lock the door behind her when she left for work.
The door was locked. My bed is made. And sitting on top of the gray comforter is a new Tom Brady color rush jersey, a Patriots scarf, a knit Patriots beanie hat, and a bright pink piece of paper with a “C” on top. Grabbing the piece of stationery, I read out loud,
I’ll do my best to keep you warm, but you might need these tonight. I’ll pick you up at four. I know that doesn’t give you much time after work, but we’ve got places (Gillette Stadium) to go, field passes to use, a football game to see…. XO - Cole
Looking over the note again to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I glance over to the alarm clock on my nightstand. Thirty minutes. There are only thirty minutes standing in between me kissing the amazing girl who already made this date night perfect.
At exactly four o’clock, there’s a light knock on the apartment door. Swiping my keys off my kitchen counter, I open the door.
In a fitted, blue Patriots jersey that says “NEPC ALUMNI” on the back, Cole has her back to me, talking to Ellis who is standing in the hallway with Tucker’s daughter, Lola.
“Hi Pax!” Lola waves from across the hall. “Dad said Ellis could put a pink streak in my hair! We’re going to have pizza and watch Moana, you should totally come over.”
“I have plans with Cole tonight, but I will talk to your dad about all of us hanging out again soon, okay?” I tell her. “Have fun with Ellis.”
After a quick round of goodbyes, Ellis and Lola disappear into the apartment and Cole turns to face me all the way. Her bright blonde hair sits in two braids, on her head is a hat that matches the one on my head. Underneath her jersey is a black long-sleeve shirt that matches the shiny, black fabric of her Under Armour leggings.
“You like?” I ask, motioning over the jersey and hat I just finished putting on my head. “This hot girl I’ve been dating left it for me.”
“Oh?” Cole questions, raising her eyebrows. “Who is this hot girl? Because I will fight her for poaching my man.”
“Your man, huh?” I laugh as we start to make our way down the stairs. “I mean, I won’t argue it, but I thought we weren’t doing the whole titles thing…”
“Pfffft, if you think after last night I’m not calling dibs, you’re out of your damn mind,” she says. “Oh, by the way. Kind of forgot to tell you, tonight’s a double date. We’re going to take my car, or yours, but you get cooler perks when you go with a former player.”
Pointing to a black Chevy Silverado across the parking lot, Cole waves excitedly to the driver and passenger as the truck pulls out of the spot and up beside us. As they get closer, I can make out Chase Merrimack and Hollis Capparelli sitting in the front seats.
“Let’s gooooo!” Hollis yells out the window, doing her best hyped up Tom Brady impression.
“Do you want to drive, or do you want me to?” Cole asks. “It’s your night. It’s up to you. But if we take your car, it’s all on you because I can’t drive standard.”
“I don’t mind driving,” I answer, shrugging. “But we should change that soon. I can teach you.”
“I was hoping you’d say you’d drive,” she says, wagging her eyebrows before lowering her voice. “I like watching you while you handle your stick.”
“Alright, you two can make out later,” Hollis yells out to us, laughing. “We have a game to get to and traffic’s going to be a bitch.”
Unlocking my car, I open the passenger side door for Cole to climb in before making my way over to my side. Over the next two hours, Cole and I go back and forth, asking each other questions. From Abbott Hills to Foxborough, I learned that her middle name is Joy, her favorite movie is Breakfast at Tiffany’s, before she was a Patriots Cheerleader, she was a Bruins Ice Girl for a season and she loves hockey as much as she loves football, her favorite superhero is Captain Marvel, and she has dual degrees in dance and medicine, and was on well on her way to getting her doctorate. Her original life plan of being a pediatrician well behind her now.
We talked sports stats and comic books, and I swear with each moment, I am falling harder. No girl I’d ever met before genuinely loved sports for the actual game, usually it was the players, but Cole knows her shit. She had me beat with Marvel knowledge. And we finally got to laugh over the irony of us both being Marvel fans and going as DC characters to the Halloween gala.
There wasn’t a lull in conversation for a single second the entire ride down. Talking to Cole is just easy. Effortlessly, we take turns shifting the conversation between us. I think I told her more in the car ride down than I had willingly told anyone else before tonight.
Pulling off the highway, we don’t get far before there’s an endless view of red brake lights ahead of us. Even though there’s still two hours before kick-off and it’s a Monday night game, the road leading to Gillette Stadium is already backed up. The Pats are playing the Jets tonight and while I wouldn’t say they’re our biggest rivals, we’re definitely theirs.
After spending twenty minutes inching to the stadium, we follow Chase into the VIP parking lot right next to the stadium entrance. Cole grabs the clear bag she brought with her and slides it on, positioning it so the strap sits over her left shoulder, across her chest, and under her right arm.
Hollis hops out of Chase’s lifted truck and there’s no mistaking her excitement. Donning a white “14” Merrimack jersey, she squeals as soon as she comes over to where Cole and I are standing.
“This is only the second time Chase has been here since he got hurt,” she explains as Chase comes up from behind her. “It’s the first game...”
“Kind of feels like coming home,” he says, looking up to the concrete lighthouse and the giant Gillette Stadium sign at the entrance to the stadium.
After we make our way through security, Hollis pulls four lanyards out of a bag identical to the one Cole is wearing. As we walk, Chase explains that we need to get wristbands and then we can go onto the field for warmups. There’s a high-pitched excited scream from the group of six or seven women next to us.
“Oh my God,” squeals someone in the midst of the group. “You’re Chase Merrimack. Oh my God. Will you take a picture with us?”
“See that babe,” Hollis laughs. “And you thought everyone would have forgotten about you.”
“And you’re his super hot rock star radio chick girlfriend! Holy shit,” another one points out, looking at Hollis causing her cheeks to suddenly become a rosy shade. “I follow you on Instagram!”
Cole offers to take a picture of all of them together and once they’ve thanked Chase and Hollis both a hundred times, we make our way down to the field.
I’ve attended a lot of games held in this stadium. My dad took me to at least one a season growing up and I try to catch a couple New England Revolution games every year but being down on the field doesn’t compare to anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Just when I think the night can’t get any cooler, the players start noticing Chase. As each player comes over to us, Chase takes it upon himself to ask if they’d mind taking a picture with me and Cole.
“Man, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to ask every player that comes over to take a picture,” I tell him. “I know they’ve got better shit to do.”
“Eh,” he shrugs, laughing. “I figured you wouldn’t ask them, and they won’t say no to me. I think some of them feel guilty, you know? Like, they’re out there…and I’m over here.”
“It’s rough,” I say in understanding. “I miss soccer more than anything.”
My tibia and fibula weren’t the only things crushed when I suffered the compound fractures that ended my career as a professional soccer player.
“I remember reading about your injuri
es,” he says sympathetically. “Have you ever thought about coaching? Hollis is taking over as the girls’ soccer coach in the spring. You should talk to her.”
I won’t be here in the spring.
Or I hadn’t planned to be. If I kept to my end of the deal with my mom, I could be on my way to South Carolina mid-April. But as I look over at Cole who is leaned over talking to Hollis in a hushed tone, the thought of leaving her behind makes my stomach drop.
“Yeah, I know you’re supposed to be leaving,” Chase chuckles as if he’s reading my thoughts. “I just didn’t know if something or someone changed your mind about sticking around.”
“Honestly, she just might.”
Chapter Seventeen
COLE
I spent four seasons cheering on the sidelines of Gillette Stadium while the New England Patriots played. I celebrated two AFC Championship wins on this field. Performed in the end zone at just as many Super Bowls. The glass ornament full of red, blue, and silver confetti collected from the Super Bowl XLIV win hangs from an ornament stand and is displayed year-round in my living room.
As soon as the smell of beer, Italian sausages, and Papa Gino’s pizza hit me, I felt exactly the same way Chase did walking into the stadium. Coming to this game, stepping back on this field, felt like coming home. I hadn’t been to a game since Chase got hurt. I knew it was hard on him not being able to play professionally anymore. He acted like it was fine, but he was different. Even when we all got together and watched the games on TV, you could tell it felt like a stab in the heart. I couldn’t bring myself to be that friend.
I knew asking Chase to do me this favor could have ended differently. I had a backup date planned, just in case. When I called him, all I did was tell him I was planning a date with Pax and asked him if he knew anyone that would sell me a suite or Putnam Club tickets for tonight’s game. He didn’t question it. All he said was, “What are your thoughts about making it a double date?”
I had no idea the extent of what Chase had set up until Hollis pulled me aside while we were at the pumpkin patch last night. And then, when I tried to talk to Chase about what I owed him money-wise later at his house, he scoffed at me and let me know I was “fucking crazy” if I thought he would take a dime from me.
I don’t know what strings he had to pull, but I am thankful. Not even the diamonds on my Super Bowl pendant shine as bright as Pax’s smile every single time a player comes over to us and Chase gets them to take a picture. And I’m pretty sure Chase knew what he was doing when he specifically asked me for my phone to take pictures.
Once warm-ups are done, we make our way to our seats. I hadn’t even looked at the ticket when Hollis handed it to me earlier in the parking lot. When it was time, I handed it to the scanning attendant and then tucked it into the clear crossbody bag I brought with me.
Following Chase, Pax and I walk hand in hand until we get to the stairs leading down to our section. Somehow, less than a week before the game, Chase managed to get the first four seats in the tenth row of Section 110. We are sitting midfield, right behind the Patriots’ bench. Far enough back to be able to see all the plays, close enough to still make out the faces of each player.
Mimicking my thoughts, Pax looks over to Chase and says, “Man, these seats are fucking incredible.”
“Yeah, babe,” Hollis beams, looking up to her boyfriend as she takes her seat, “You did good.”
Despite the rapidly dropping temperature, the excited energy that surrounds us is contagious. As the seats fill in, I decide now would be a good time to head back up to the vendors and get some chicken fingers. Or maybe some nachos. My stomach grumbles at the thought of melted cheese and tortilla chips. Nachos it is.
Just as I’m about to lean over to ask Hollis and Chase if they want anything, Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” booms through the stadium’s PA system. The Jumbotron pans to the inside of the inflatable silver football helmet showing the team waiting to take the field.
Thoughts of nachos are long forgotten as I jump to my feet. Looking over slightly to catch him in this moment, I find Pax grinning ear-to-ear. The muskets from the Endzone Militia shoot off as the team runs onto the field and the music transitions to Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, introducing your New England Patriots….”
While the announcer calls out the players’ jersey numbers, positions, and names, I lean over Pax and touch Hollis’s arm to get her attention.
“I’m going to get some nachos and a beer,” I tell her. “Do you guys want anything?”
“Divide and conquer?” she asks after saying something to Chase. “You guys get the food, we’ll grab the beers?”
Since I’m on the end, I turn and head up the stairs to the concourse. Once we get to the flat concrete of the main traffic area, Pax stands next to me, placing his hand on the small of my back. The simple gesture is so minimal, but so sweet and lets anyone around us know that we’re together.
And I’m not the only one who notices. Chase and Hollis, who are now standing in front of us, both look down and smile at the proximity between us. It’s good to know that my friends are rooting for this, whatever this is.
Before the game I made a comment, somewhat jokingly, about not letting other women poach on “my man.” Pax had brushed it off, laughing and calling me out on my tangent last night about not labeling whatever we were doing. But then he kissed me the way he did. And then I felt what it was like to be with him. Like, really be with him, in every manner of the word. But beyond all that, I felt a security and a sense of belonging I had never felt in my life when I spent the night nestled on his chest. There will never be a lullaby that will calm me like the sound of Paxton Callaghan’s heartbeat. As much as I want to know exactly how I fit into his life, right now the only thing I need to be figuring out is what he wants for food so we can get back to our seats and watch the game.
After discussing what everyone wants beverage-wise, Hollis and Chase ask us to grab them each a pretzel and then turn right heading to the Sam Adams vendor to grab Oktoberfest for the guys and then to find Hollis and my vodka lemonades. Stepping forward, I lead Pax toward the “Stadium Pizza” concession booth.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask. “I can get Chase and Hol’s pretzels and my nachos from here, but if you want something different, we can go there first.”
“You’re going to laugh,” he starts. “But I kind of want cotton candy and funnel cake. I can’t decide which one I want.”
He’s right. I do laugh.
“If cotton candy and fried dough are what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Chase kind of took care of everything else. I can at least buy you a sugar high,” I say, quickly turning my tone to one of warning. “And if you so much as think about pulling out your credit card, I will shank you with a tortilla chip.”
“Oooooh,” he smirks, handing his card over to the curly haired brunette as we approach the counter. “I like it when you go rogue on me.”
“Wait. You!” I stammer, poking him in the chest. “Damn it, Pax. You’re like a fucking ninja with that thing. Tonight was supposed to be me taking you out.”
Ignoring my protest, he flashes a smile and winks at the woman who is very patiently waiting for our order. She’s probably old enough to be one of our mothers. Her platinum blonde hair is almost white, but the black roots on the top of her head give away her natural color. Her skin is leathered and tan, but it suits her as she looks right at Pax, the raspy tone of her voice causes me to pause my mini rant.
“What can I get for you little lovebirds?”
“We need two pretzels, an order of nachos, a funnel cake, and a bag of cotton candy,” Pax recites, nodding once with each item as if he’s crossing it off a mental list.
“Anything else?” she chuckles as she looks back and forth between the two of us.
“Make that two bags of cotton candy,” I add, shaking my head, grinning.
If you can’t beat ‘em, jo
in ‘em, right?
Chapter Eighteen
PAX
The Patriots won. My stomach is full of a combination of laughter and junk food. As we walk out to the parking lot, Hollis insists I come to her grandparents’ to watch “whoever is playing” on Sunday.
All the while, Cole continues to look at me like I hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.
When we get to my car, Chase offers me his hand and nods over to Cole, who is hugging Hollis just a few feet away.
“Do right by her, man.” His tone is laced with the smallest hint of warning as he holds and slightly tightens the grip between us. “She deserves it.”
If this was about anyone else, I probably would have puffed up my chest, and tried to act like the bigger man. I get it though. Without a single doubt in my mind, Cole Christian could get any man to fight a war for her.
As I nod in understanding, he loosens his grip substantially.
“Thanks for everything tonight, man,” I say before walking back over to where Cole is standing next to my car. “Next game is on me.”
“What was that all about?” Cole asks, looking over to Chase warily as he looks over and waves to her.
“More or less?” I start. “I just got a mini-version of the ‘you better treat Cole right’ speech you warned me about. It wasn’t as horrible and terrifying as you made it out to be though.”
“I can handle myself, Chase Matthew,” she yells over to him, sticking her tongue out as I open the passenger side door for her.
“I know you can!” he yells back. “Doesn’t mean I’m not about to go all big brother on you though.”
Taking his index and his middle finger, he points back and forth from his eyes to me, grinning the entire time. Hollis laughs, shakes her head, and gives us both one last wave before pulling herself up into Chase’s truck, closing the door behind her. The rumble of the truck starting up next to us fades away as Cole turns to face me.