“There’s no such species as a sea hawk, but Taima here looks like an osprey, which are birds who feed from the sea. Once the team is ready, he’ll lead them out onto the field.”
I’m ready for the moment. Fireworks will explode, flags will fly, and this bird will soar out of the tunnel to a surprisingly mellow yet epic nineties alternative song. Why? Because Seattle marches to the beat of our own drum.
“Tell me a little bit about this type of bird.” The reporter hunts for questions that will entertain a rabid audience of football fanatics. “What’s unique about them?”
The owner answers proudly, as if anyone were listening. Well, anyone besides me. “Ospreys mate for life. The male catches a fish, flies an ornate pattern to attract the female’s attention, then takes the fish to a spot where, once she accepts his offering, they’ll build a nest together. Year after year they’ll return to find each other for mating season.”
Okay, my heartwasn’thurting.
Vincent waves an arm toward the giant screen. “What does a bird’s mating ritual have to do with football?”
“Taima has a better love life than I do.” I grunt to make light of my sad joke.
Vincent gives me the eye. “Are we doing this again?”
“Sorry.” I sip through my straw.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Vincent twists to face me. “Our conversation with Pastor Liam last Sunday got me thinking. Did Joey ever confess to cheating on you?”
“No ...” I hold up a hand to keep him from a false start. “But I saw herwith the guy at the airport last week. There’s definitely something going on now.”
Vincent shakes his head. “Doesn’t mean there was before. Why did you accuse her of cheating?”
I throw my free hand in the air. As if I would invent her betrayal to destroy our relationship. “After I was based in Seattle, her calls and messages came less and less frequently.”
Vincent shrugs. “She could have been busy with work, the way you were.”
Yeah, she’d taken on more responsibility at her social services job, but ... “She was spending an awful lot of time with her supervisor. More time than she spent with me.”
“You mean in the same way Claire has been spending more time with you than with her own boyfriend?”
“Clearly I’m in the friend zone with Claire.”
“Clearly.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t want to admit the worst part, but if that’s what it takes to convince Vincent ... “Joey was happy. Happier than she’d been before I moved. There had to be a reason for that—other than her job, as she’d claimed.”
“You don’t think she could have been finding purpose in her new career? She was fulfilled in a new way, and you got threatened?”
Ha. If only. “Dad said that’s exactly what happened to Mom before she left us. She found happiness with another man.”
Vincent turns back toward the Jumbotron. “Huh.”
Except his “huh” means a lot more than my “huh” had. His “huh” means that maybe I’m doing exactly what Claire did when she ran from Pastor Liam. Because of her past experience, she feared he was going to hurt her. Then she hurt herself worse.
I don’t want to think about it. I really don’t want to consider the possibility that my jealousy is what could have ended our engagement. Like Romeo taking poison when he’d thought Juliet was dead. So I won’t continue this train of thought. I won’t ask the tough question.
“If you hadn’t been hurt when your mom left your dad, would you have broken up with Joey?” Vincent asks it for me.
And my heart breaks all over again. For the loss of my mother. For the loss of my father’s attention. For the loss of my dream of a family—a dream that Vincent’s suggesting I may have self-sabotaged. “I’m glad I learned through my dad’s failed marriage so I didn’t make the same mistake.”
“Loving someone is never a mistake. Even if it hurts.”
Fireworks explode, flags fly, and a monogamous falcon soars onto the field to the sound of an epic nineties alternative song. A bittersweet symphony.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Claire
