Even More Mineby Rita Wilson
When I was growing up, football was a regular part of my life. My dad took me to games from the time I was little, and then once Leo began playing, I never missed seeing him play, from grade school on. In high school, watching him play and then go off with a different cheerleader every time had broken my heart on a weekly basis, until that brief, bright few months in junior year when he’d been mine—and then football had been more than fun, it had been almost foreplay.
During Leo’s years at Carolina, I’d been at as many of his games as I could manage. If I wasn’t there in person, I was devouring his moves on television. Watching him improve each week, find his own graceful rhythm, had been sweet while we were together and then bittersweet after we’d broken up.
As I made my way into the Richmond Rebels’ stadium on the first Sunday of the season, I realized how much I had missed this. Football. I’d missed the excited chatter of fans ready to see their team play, the smell that was an enticing mix of tobacco, beer and football food, and the anticipation of a game and a season that was still so full of potential. Sighing in satisfaction, I consulted the text Leo had sent me with instructions on how to get to the seat he’d reserved for me.
I wouldn’t have minded sitting in the stands, but Leo had insisted that I join the other team families in the box set aside for them by the Rebel organization. Consequently, I ended up flashing my pass and ID to a series of guards, each of whom passed me a little further along the way, until I stepped out of an elevator into a wide hallway. A woman with long dark hair wearing a gray knee-length skirt, black heels and a royal blue sleeveless silk blouse clicked over to me, beaming.
“Quinn? Are you Quinn Russell?”
I nodded, immediately feeling underdressed and unkempt. I’d worn jeans with short sleeve shirt and ballet flats, and my hair was in a low ponytail. It was the same kind of outfit I used to wear to games when we were in college, and it hadn’t occurred to me that the wives and girlfriends might have a dress code here.
“I amsohappy to meet you finally!” The woman pulled me into a quick, tight hug. “I’m Ellie Iverson, and you’re just as gorgeous as Leo told us. He asked me to keep an eye out for you and show you where we sit and so on. Come on, it’s this way.”
Tugging me by the hand, she led me through a door, into a room whose opposite side opened out into the stadium. I blinked at the vivid green of the field in the bright sunshine, even as I drank in the sight of the Rebels warming up out there. If I’d been alone, I would’ve been craning my neck, looking for number twenty-two.
“It’s not fancy, but it gives us a little bit of privacy,” Ellie was saying. “We have our own restrooms, and there’s a beverage station and some basic stadium food. Corey’s only played for the Rebels, but I hear from some of the wives that other teams provide fancier boxes. But then again, there are a few who don’t give the families any special seating at all. So I’m not complaining.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Are there assigned seats down there, or can I sit anywhere? I don’t want to step on toes.”
“Nothing is formally assigned, but you know ...” She rolled her eyes. “There’s a seniority system. But don’t worry. Everyone is pretty nice, and if you’re in someone’s seat, she’ll just ask you to scoot. Stick with me, though, for today. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly.”
That sounded like a great idea and a good plan, so I followed Ellie down a few steps into the seats. There weren’t many people there yet, but the few who were seated greeted us, eyeing me with curiosity. Ellie introduced me each time as ‘Leo Taylor’s friend Quinn.’ There were more than a few arch expressions, but I pasted on myaren’t-I-glad-to-meet-yousmile and soldiered on. I knew I was never going to remember all the names or faces, but I was good at faking it.
By the time we found seats, I was relieved to sit and not have to worry about what to do with my hands and feet. I leaned forward a little, peering down to where the players were still warming up on the field. Richmond was closest to us, and the visiting team from Detroit was on the far end, doing their own pregame prep.
“There he is.” Ellie pointed one manicured finger, and I followed the line of her sight to number twenty-two. As my heart began to beat a little faster, excited to see him, Leo turned his head, and although it was too far away for me to know for sure that his eyes were moving, I was certain that he was scanning this section. I resisted the urge to wave—but barely. I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself on the first day.
“Oh, he sees you. Look.” Ellie nodded down at the field, where Leo was jogging casually in our direction. When he reached the edge, he stopped, touched his fingers to his lips and raised them. It was a quick movement, and for someone who wasn’t looking for it, the gesture would have been meaningless, maybe taken for just a stretch or adjustment. But I knew what it was.
“How sweet is that ... he blew you a kiss.” Ellie beamed. “Now just about five men behind him ... see there? Number seventy-five? That’s my guy.”
I felt a tiny bit more settled now that I’d seen Leo and knew he’d seen me. I smiled at Ellie. “Leo talks about the two of you all the time. You’ve been very good to him since he came to Richmond, I hear. I appreciate that.”
She waved her hand. “He’s a sweetie—so respectful and level-headed, you know. A lot of the college kids hit the pros and go wild—or keep going wild, as the case may be—but Leo’s kept a low profile and worked hard every day. We’re so excited about this charity he’s launching, too. A really wonderful idea, that.”
“I know.” I nodded. “I think it’s giving Leo a sense that his friend Matt’s life won’t have been meaningless. It’s also been terrific for Matt’s girlfriend, Gia. She’s one of my best friends, and the last year or so has been a real struggle. I’ve been worried about her.”
Ellie sighed. “What all of you have been through is staggering. Honestly, Quinn, I have tremendous respect for you. I know things haven’t been easy, but you seem to have it all together.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.” I thought back to a couple of weeks before, when I’d landed in Philadelphia. I’d planned to get a shuttle to Mark and Sheri’s house, where my mother had left my car before she and Shane had taken off for Europe, and then drive down to the shore house. But instead, when I’d left the restricted area of the airport, Zelda and Gia had been waiting for me on the other side.
“As if we were going to let you do this by yourself?” Zelda had cuffed me on the arm. “I’m pissed that you didn’t ask us to pick you up. Now come on, let’s get your bags. We’re going to stop for your car, and then Gia’s going to ride with you while I follow behind on the drive to the shore. We’re staying with you overnight, and then she and I will head back tomorrow afternoon.”
And that was just what they had done. I’d been pathetically grateful for their presence, because coming home was harder than I’d expected. After months of living in peace in California, back in Eatonboro, even for a brief stop, meant that I saw Nate around every corner ... and then, of course, Mark and Sheri were waiting for me at their house when I stopped for the car.
The reunion had been awkward at first; I hadn’t seen the Wellmans since right after Nate’s funeral, and the entire time we stood in the front hall of their house, I was ultra-aware that one of the chief reasons I’d come home was to be with Leo. Although in my heart I knew I’d done nothing wrong, I was still uncomfortable.
Leaving them and driving to the shore, then, had been a relief. Gia had chatted with me the entire way, which was a welcome change from the mostly-silent girl I’d left behind. It was only as we’d pulled up in front of the house that dread had clutched at my stomach. The last time I’d been here had been New Year’s Day, and in my mind’s eye, I could still see the black hearse that had parked in the driveway to pick up Nate’s body. I stood on the porch with the girls, both of them silent and watchful.
It was Zelda who spoke first. “Do you remember the time the three of us came down here, when we were sophomores? Your mom was away, and we were so excited to sneak down to the shore ... we had big plans for getting wasted and going to the boardwalk, maybe even going to Atlantic City for the clubs at the casinos.”
Gia laughed. “You two were trying to cheer me up and distract me, because Matt and I had just gotten into a huge fight—as we usually did—and I was sulky. But then we got down here, put on our sweats ...”
“And we never left the house all weekend,” I finished. “We had pizza delivered, and we maybe drank a beer or two a piece the entire time. We watched movies—did we walk on the beach? I can’t remember.”
“I think we did. God, we were lame.” Zelda laughed and so as we went into the house for the first time, it was with happy memories and laughter instead of dread.
