One of the guys on the camera crew points to me, giving the go ahead, and I begin.
“And there you have it. A wild one to start the season, what a back and forth game that was. After starting your first two possessions three and out, what’d you say to the guys to get them fired up?”
Liam’s eye black is smeared almost down to his chin from sweat. But he stands next to me in a red and black jersey with a smile as guys come up behind him during the interview and slap his shoulders. He doesn’t take his focus off our conversation, and I note the small scrape on his throwing hand when he runs it through his sweat-soaked hair. A battle wound, I’m sure.
“Four quarters, sixty minutes. Plenty of time to hang in there and fight, and that’s exactly what this team did. I’m so proud of our guys. Everyone stepped up when we needed them to.” Liam’s tongue quickly coats his lips and he gives someone on the field a quick nod.
“Do you think this game kind of sets the tone for the season? It was a tough-fought battle.”
“Yeah, I mean, our mission here is to win. It’s what we want to do and something we know we’re capable of. It wasn’t perfect, I’m sure when we get into the tape on Monday we’ll see plenty of things to clean up. I know a few of my reads could have been better. But it’s a good day when we win the game.”
“For sure. Congrats, Liam. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he says as he pivots away from me.
As if he knows my eyes are still on him, he turns quickly, giving me a quick smile and a wink.
What the hell is happening? First, he makes me breakfast—which was actually incredible and I even looked up how to remake it myself—then he calls me baby, and now he’s winking at me?
How am I supposed to be annoyed by him in these conditions?
As I’m walking away from the field and to the exit, all I’m thinking is at least I don’t have to see him tomorrow.
But then the reminder that he’s my neighbor creeps in, and I blow out a very, very audible sigh.
Time moves fast during the season, and it feels like the only time I really sit with nothing going on is early in the morning. Or in Dana’s office.
She just redid the interior, giving the whole space so much more light with the retractable shades she keeps open. The view isn’t anything to write home about, but natural light will boost my mood any day of the week.
Every piece of furniture looks new, down to the wastebasket in the corner of the room.
“Like what you’ve done with the place,” I say, offering a smile as I take a seat.
“Thank you. This room was overdue for a makeover.” She gathers her notebook from her desk and comes to sit at the large beige chair beside the couch I’m seated on.
The room smells like cinnamon, and I notice a candle warmer on one of the bookshelves, likely the culprit.
“What a nice start to the season too. How have you been since we last saw each other?” Her right leg crosses over her left knee and she sits up straighter in the chair.
Where the fuck do I begin?
My dream girl moved in next door. My dad is still sending me aggressive text messages. The bird is still fucking with my cat. And the deli on Fourth discontinued my favorite sandwich, claiming it was just seasonal for the summer.
“I’ve been busy,” I say. It’s the truth. “I’m still working on a few things we talked about last month. With…you know, emotions and stuff like that.” I sway my hand in the air with a shake of my head.
“Processing them.” She nods. “And allowing yourself to feel those emotions without them consuming you. Most importantly, knowing that it’s okay to feel things.”
She jots something quick in the notebook, and I lean back on the cushion, pulling both hands behind my neck in a stretch.
“Right,” I reply.
“What else?”
Dana is a nice woman, but she’s no fucking nonsense. She hears me out and offers her guidance, but she isn’t here to let me skate around what’s going on. I appreciate her approach now more than I did in the beginning.
“I have a new neighbor,” I say, adjusting in my seat again.
“That’s great news.”
