“I was just wondering the same thing.” I laugh, but I know I won’t leave early. I can’t do that to my dad.
I thought being a pro football player would solve all our problems. I know that sounds silly. But my family was broken for so long that the prestige and money and all that comes with this job seemed like just the thing. The only connection I ever had with my dad was with football. So part of me thought, oh, playing professionally? That’s a surefire way for my dad and me to be even more bonded…closer than ever.
But it didn’t work out that way. Even before I got drafted, when I was playing college ball, Dad started doing interviews. The media loved him. He’s animated, high energy. He understands football and was proud of me, and all that came through onscreen.
When I joined the NFL, the number of interviews and appearances he did increased. It was almost like he was viewing it as his career, not mine. He started going to parties and things we never had access to before I joined the Wolves.
He still comes to all my home games and the occasional away game. I like having him there. He has good insights and perspectives to discuss.
Sports. That’s what we talk about. We can’t seem to make that jump from sports stats and game analyses to anything deeper. I used to try, and it never worked. He’d joke away any comment I made to try to segue into other parts of my life. I eventually stopped trying.
And a part of me thought we’d grow closer the better I got at football. The more famous I got. That somehow that would break the walls between us. But if anything, we’re more distant than ever.
What’s odd is, I don’t think he’s happy. Even now, on his wedding day, he’s not acting like himself.
But do I even really know my dad anymore? Come to think of it, did I ever really know him?
And there’s Jess. She seems really happy today, which I’m grateful for, but I barely know her. I can’t help but feel like he’s rushed into this.
In my opinion, he needed to focus on himself and healing his own wounds—his own crap—before getting married again.
But here we are. I take a sip of my drink, letting the ice cubes clink against each other in the glass, stewing over my father and our lack of connection. The storm brewing behind his eyes. Does anyone here know him well enough to even see it?
The orchestra starts playing a slow song and my dad and Jess begin to dance.
“You seem to be loving this about as much as I am,” Emma says with half a smile. “I want to leave so bad.”
My gaze sweeps around the room. “I hardly know anyone here.”
Where did he even get these friends? Maybe they’re Jess’s side of the family? Her friends?
All I know is, a lot of people have introduced themselves to me, congratulating me on my last game of the season, which happened to be a win. It’s nice to hear that from people, but right now? I kind of want to go home and be with Charlotte.
Because my dad marrying yet another woman who isn’t my mom is hard. I want him to be happy, but I’m not sure he is.
I hope he is.
Thoughts of Charlotte’s big baby browns filter through my mind and body.
I’m in love with her. It’s a love that has caught ahold of me and won’t let go. She’s so fierce and devoted and interesting. She’s gorgeous and funny. She’s got a wit that would make a monk crack up.
I love her. I don’t exactly know when it happened, but here I am.
Not that we’ve defined anything yet, not in so many words.
If I were to marry Charlotte, what would that be like? We wouldn’t get married in a stuffy, high-end hotel like this. No. I could see her wanting to get married in a church. A cute little stone church on a hill in the spring with her entire family present.
I can picture her in a white dress, her hair down, maybe a clip at the back of her head for a veil. Or better yet, maybe not a veil at all. Maybe she’d choose just to let her sunset hair trail down her back in all its glory.
I love her. But looking at the wreckage of my father’s life is doing something to my resolve. I want to love her. Outright. Completely. And without any hesitations or complications.
But what kind of life is the NFL? I travel even more than my dad did all my growing-up years, and look how things turned out for his family? We were broken up because of it.
I want to provide a stable life for my future wife and kids, but I’m living on borrowed time here in San Antonio as it is. Especially considering the new darling on the team, Casey Riddock, who, any day now, could claim the starting quarterback position and leave me stranded without a plan. Without a team.
Also? It’s kind of ironic that football was supposed to keep my family happy and together and it’s going to take me far away from them. It’s also the thing that’s preventing me from starting my own family.
I don’t want to hurt Charlotte the way my dad hurt my mom.
