“Yes, you are number 88.” My son settled in to give Shaw a rundown on himself. “Drafted in the first round ten years ago and traded to Carolina two years ago for a draft pick. In 130 targets last year, you made eighty-seven receptions and ran for 1,100 receiving yards,
scored—”
I touched his arm gently. “I think Shaw knows his own statistics, honey…”
“That’s alright,” Shaw said, trying unsuccessfully to hold back his amusement. We hadn’t been around Shaw in the last few years, and if I was reading his reaction right, Shaw was entertained. “You know how much I love hearing about myself.”
“I’m sure your ego feeds off of it,” I added. And because this was Shaw, I couldn’t hold back the dryness in my tone.
Ignoring me, he focused on Aaron. “We’re coming up to play Baltimore in a few weeks. I was wondering if you’d like tickets?”
Aaron’s expression went blank. He sat back, grew quiet, staring down at his hands that were folded in his lap. Then he began to fidget with his fingers. Without looking up, he asked, “Could my mom come?”
Shaw’s smile faded as, even over the video feed, he picked up on Aaron’s change in mood.
“Yes, of course, buddy. I wouldn’t forget about her. You know she used to be my biggest fan?”
Aaron picked at his fingers, deep in his thoughts, bit his lip more, and shifted in his seat. He was getting unsettled.
I leaned over and whispered, “We don’t have to go.”
“I want to go,” he whispered back, leaning closer. “But…you know what Dad says”—he shifted closer and glanced up briefly at Shaw—“about the stadiums being too loud for me and how they would hurt my ears.”
That was going to be an issue. Aaron’s hearing was extremely sensitive, keeping us out of movie theaters, sporting events, and concerts. We watched everything at home, where he could control the volume and take a break when needed.
Unsure of how to handle this, I turned back to the screen, ready to ask Shaw for time to think about it.
“Hey, guys, I forgot to tell you the best part. I got you a box. Do you know what that means?”
Aaron shook his head while my mouth was unable to form words.
Shaw chuckled before continuing. “It means you, your mom, Grace, Aliya, Aunt Maeve, and maybe my pain-in-the-butt brother can all come to watch me play. I got a suite, and you can sit in a separate room that looks over the entire stadium and watch the game. It has doors so you can go inside. There will be food and drinks, so you won’t have to stand in lines.” My heart melted at what he must have done to get these tickets.
Aaron stopped biting his lip and turned to me for confirmation. I nodded. “They are some of the best seats in the stadium,” I reassured him, “I think we can do this. I have a few ideas.”
My hopeful boy stared back at Shaw. “Okay. I want to go to a game—especially a Baltimore game.”
Shaw grabbed his heart and winced. “You’re killing me, my man. Please. Please. Try to keep your favoritism to yourself that day. Give me and Charlotte a chance…”
Aaron shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile peeking through.
Shaw pointed at the phone. “I’m going to make you convert—just wait.” He turned his focus to me. “I already told Grace, and she will coordinate the arrangements. I will have a car service pick you guys up and drive you to the stadium, so hopefully, I can see you before and after the game.”
“Shaw, that isn’t necessary. Baltimore isn’t even an hour away. We can handle it—” I began to argue.
He held up his hand. “Already ordered. This way, you all can relax and not worry about driving home.”
Aaron was still fidgeting with his fingers. He was obviously still worried.
I opened my arms. “Honey, we got this.” He stepped into my hug but didn’t wrap his arms around me. I squeezed him gently, hoping the pressure would reassure him. “It will be fine. We will talk about it and come up with a plan.” He responded best when things were laid out as a plan.
He nodded, stepped back, and glanced at the screen but could not hold direct contact. “Shaw, I would love to come see you play.”
“I am so excited for you to watch in person. Now, here’s the deal. The only thing I need you to do is promise me not to wear anything with Baltimore’s logo. You’ll kill my reputation.”
Aaron’s smile grew. “Okay. Deal. But I may still root for my favorite players—just quietly.”
Shaw gave an exaggerated side-eye. “I see I have my work cut out for me. But that’s okay. Challenge accepted. I will become your favorite player.” He winked and clapped his hands together. “Okay. I have to go. I will be in touch and see you two in a few weeks.”
