Danny clears his throat. “Hi, everyone. You all look great tonight.”
Remaining guests take their seats as he unfolds the piece of paper.
“First and foremost, I want to thank you all for being here. This cause is near and dear to my heart.”
He scans the crowd and squints a bit at the spotlight. His eyes find mine, and he takes a deep breath, bringing his attention back to his paper.
“I started the HCF about five years ago, at a low point in my life. I wasn’t, um, doing well at the time. While football has led to some of my greatest triumphs, it’s also led to some of my greatest regrets. My therapist encouraged me to start by doing something small for others, like volunteering at a local soup kitchen. I did that, and it was humbling, but, as many of you know, I’m kind of a ‘go big or go home’ type of guy.” The crowd laughs politely, and Danny gives a small smile.
“So, I decided to start a charitable foundation. I knew the cause had to be something that was meaningful to me. I was looking for guidance, which got me thinking about the last time I received advice from a trusted friend. That friend was Mae Clancy.”
A whirlwind of emotions engulfs me as he says her name. When Mae died, I scrambled for scraps of her…checks she had signed, doodles she’d drawn in the margins of the Sunday crossword, the broken chain from her reading glasses. To hear her name in a room full of people, to know that she’srememberedby someone other than me, it’s like a hit of dopamine. My eyes water, and Tessa hands me a tissue from her purse. I shoot her a grateful look as I dab underneath my waterline.
“Mae was like a grandmother to me in so many ways. She was an expert at maintaining the delicate balance of reassuring meandroasting me regularly enough to keep me humble. Mae was also the first to clue me in to how I felt about her granddaughter back in high school. She told me it was obvious I was in love with the girl next door, and that she loved me back but was too scared to tell me. Her advice that day changed my life. ‘You can’t rush her heart, you can only busy yours,’ she told me.”
When was this? How did she know?
“So, while I was busy loving her granddaughter, Mae kept busy loving her bees.”
I was busy loving you, too,I think as a tear escapes my eye. Danny nervously straightens his already-straight tie and takes a sip of the water bottle on the podium before continuing.
“Her greatest passion was bee conservation. I used to sit and talk with Mae about two things the summer before college. Bees and the girl next door. God, I learned so much about bees and the perils of losing more and more of them every year. I learned about their importance to our planet. Most importantly, I learned how you can get a stomach ache if you eat too much fresh honeycomb at one time—that one was from personal experience.” The audience laughs, completely enthralled by Danny’s story.
I knew Mae and Danny talked, but they were closer than I realized. My stomach twists as I think about the goodbye he didn’t get to say because I was too scared to reach out to him.
“We talked about her granddaughter and the bees…until we didn’t. And years later, I thought about how much I fucking missed talking about my best friend and bees. Excuse my language.”
“One morning, I was drinking a cup of coffee on my balcony and a bee landed on the rim. It was at that moment that everything fell into place. Even if I couldn’t have everything—everyone—I wanted, I could save the bees.” He clears his throat. “But I didn’t want to move forward blinded by my own ambition, thinking this was the right decision without consulting the people it would affect. I did that once before, and it didn’t end well for me.” He swallows tightly, and a flicker of sadness flashes in his eyes.
“I called Mae that same day. She was all in. And that’s the origin of The HCF.”
The crowd starts clapping. My heart rate quickens as I think about the implications of his words. I knew they kept in touch, but sheknewabout this foundation. She cosigned its creation. Iremember all the times she tried to talk to me about him, and all the times I refused to listen.
Danny shifts on his feet, swaying a little from side to side before taking another deep breath.
“After scolding me for not talking to her for years, we talked about what this could become. She said she was honored, but it wasmewho was honored. Mae was one of the most selfless people I’ve ever known. She was a great, um, woman. Fierce, and uh…” Danny’s voice strains as he tries not to cry.
For me, not crying is a lost cause. Tears, and most likely my mascara, slide down my cheeks.
“Fierce and loving. Funny and kind. Loyal and honest.” He takes out a handkerchief and dabs his brow. “I always wanted to bring her out to see the foundation. She planned on being here today. Unfortunately, she—” He chokes, cutting himself off, before swallowing and carrying on. “She passed away this year. I’m devastated she can’t see this, but I know she’s watching from somewhere else.”
His eyes mist over. After a brief pause, he folds the paper up and returns it to his pants pocket. Danny fixes me with his gaze, and I can tell that whatever he’s about to say is unrehearsed.
“During my last conversation with Mae, I shared my intentions to invite her granddaughter to this very gala. And, while I did end up asking her a little later than I expected, I’m grateful that she decided to attend.”
Danny was going to invite me here, all along?The crowd starts buzzing, searching the room for me, but I’m still hung up on the meaning behind his words. The knowledge that we might’ve reconnected, even without the letter bringing us together, sends goosebumps down my arms.
“Finding my way back to you has been the greatest privilege of my life.” His voice, low and throaty, cracks.
He angles his body slightly away from the audience for a moment, before taking another sip of water and facing front again.
“Gosh. I need to get a grip, huh?” The audience laughs, but I see some teary-eyed guests, too, including Tess beside me.
“Well, with that, a big thank you to my teammates for joining me on the journey to build this foundation. I don’t think anyone anticipated three professional football players being so passionate about saving the bees, but here we are.” He laughs into the microphone, and I think the tenor warms the room by a degree or two. “Eat and be merry! We’re alcohol-free tonight, but I hope you enjoy our custom bee themed mocktails. And please spend all of your money. It’s for a good cause.”
Pure awe flows through my veins as he jogs down from the stage to our table. Tessa stands up. “Yeah, so I’m going to check out the mocktails.”
Danny doesn’t take his eyes off me as he responds, “Probably for the best, Tess.”
