I realize now that a lot of what happened is my fault (and maybe a tiny bit his). Everything is so extreme or so black and white with me because that’s how I was raised. I’ve never lived in a space for grays because neither did Mandy. You were either a great father or a deadbeat. A liar or a truth teller. A dutiful daughter or a bad one. There was no in between, but I know better.
Things aren’t always that simple.
And some things can never be explained.
Sometimes you just have to believe.
It’s the first game of the regular season and we’re playing my hometown team, Philadelphia, here in New York. The stadium is packed with season ticket holders and rowdy fans from both cities. The sky is clear, and it’s a warm September day. It’s glorious weather for the sport and an ideal time for me to make my statement.
I decide to ditch my normal PT uniform and wear a pair of fitted black joggers and an official Bacchetti 69 jersey to the game. Little does Rush know that today is going to be our coming out surprise party. Everyone is going to know (if they didn’t already) that we belong to each other.
End of story.
Some players don’t even pay attention when I enter the training room in my official Bacchetti gear, but the only person who matters does and when he sees me, he immediately freezes in place and his eyes lock on mine.
He’s seated on a bench getting his wrist taped because of some continued tenderness after the fight with Tiger.
“Can we switch?” I ask Scott.
“Sure.”
Rush watches me quietly and methodically wrap his wrist with the white bandage tape. When I’m finished, I raise my eyes to meet his.
“World domination greetings, Rush.”
I anxiously wait for his response.
“World domination greetings, Mia.”
“Ready to kick ass on that field today?”
“Affirmative.”
We both smile and then I forward for a tight hug around his waist.
“Awwww,” some players tease.
“Yo, are they fucking?” Another clueless player asks out loud.
“Don’t get hurt and I’ll see you after the game, Bacchetti,” I tell him.
“After the game.”
Out on the field, Rush is a monster. Even with a tender wrist, he sets a record for the most receiving yards in a regular game in Nighthawks history. It’s understandably one of the most exciting games I’ve ever watched, although, I imagine I feel that way because someone I love is out their sacrificing his body play after play for the game.
Luckily the day went our way, and we won.
After the game there are some restorative therapies that we do for certain players who were hurt during the game, while the rest of the team are in meetings with the coaches. Then finally, after a long exhausting day, it’s time for us all to go home and we’ll start all over again in the morning.
I’m inputting some notes in my computer when Rush approaches me from behind with his large Nighthawks duffel full of gear and equipment on his back.
“You want a ride home, Mia?”
“I drove but thank you.”
“You want to ride to my place then?” he asks.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
