"Actually…" Now, I was sitting taller. "The whole reason we ended up staying married is because it got posted on social media. Finn might be onto something."
"See?" Finn said. "I'm more than a pretty face who catches footballs."
"What if I sang one of her songs back to her?" I asked.
"What if you wrote her a song?" Finn countered.
"I don't write songs," I said. "But… I guess I could try?"
Or… actually, I knew just what to do. I wouldn't win a Grammy or anything, but maybe it'd be enough to make my point.
"We need to get T.J. and Darius looped in," I said. "They're into creative shit."
"They love this stuff," Finn agreed.
"You two have it under control." Coach started toward the exit with a backward wave. "Don't fuck it up." Then he turned on his heel. "Your contract got renewed. Came to tell you. Elliott has details. Don't fuck it up, either. Don't fuck anything up."
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
MAYA
The Stallions' path to the playoffs was uncertain. They weren't in, not yet. Tomorrow, they had to win this one crucial game to secure their spot, and it was against the team they'd lost so horribly to in the game where Sloan got hurt.
Sloan's attention was entirely consumed by training and team strategies, making our interactions sporadic at best. I understood he was doing what needed done, and I knew they'd come out of this with a win. Of course, the Stallions weren't celebrating prematurely. They also weren't wallowing in self-doubt. Instead, all of their energy, all of their determination, all the team focus got channeled toward winning tomorrow's wild card game.
I'd hoped having the conversation with Sloan would bring some clarity to what we were doing in our marriage. But it only seemed to stir up the mud and make everything murky. Murky and infused with a kind of awkward I didn't like at all.
I couldn't see where I was going with him, and I was worried.
The good news for me was that this leg of the Dimefront tour ended in Vegas. So, after the last show, I headed to Mom and Dad's with them. They came to the concert, and it was outstanding to have them backstage with me, seeing what I'd become.
Then I was back home with them in the house where I grew up. Vegas might not be home anymore, but it was still nice to be back in the city I grew up in and not be a backup for anyone. There was nostalgia here that brought back memories I'd nearly forgotten.
And yet, my first task was reaching out to Sloan.
Maya: Tour 1st leg done ????
Sloan: …
Maya: How was today?
Sloan: …
Maya: Call when you're done w/ mtngs
"Come to our house in Estes Park," I said, helping Mom chop lettuce for the dinner salad. The normalcy of the task made me warm inside, since my life recently was filled with more of the extraordinary than the normal. Things like helping in the kitchen felt comforting for a change.
Seeing Mom and reveling in the end of the tour leg might not have been the same dopamine rush as performing in a stadium, but it filled a void I hadn't quite realized needed filling. After the past months of going full speed, this time was like a bowl of chicken noodle soup after months of fancy meals. There was something comforting about being in a space where the countertops stayed cluttered with jars of herbs and spices, and stacks of mail lay in piles along the edge. There was comfort in the imperfections.
"I don't know," Mom said, moving through her kitchen with ease. "I'm more of a city girl. The whole idea of nature doesn't really excite me."
"Sloan will convince you," I said, grabbing a tomato for the salad. "The man is very convincing. He even got me outside." I paused the chopping. "Turns out that I actually really like the mountains. I can't even describe how the air just feels better there."
Mom stared at me for a long beat. "I always wondered when I'd see you happy like this."
"Like what?" I mean, I was happy, but it wasn't like I was unhappy before.
"Like this. You light up when you talk about Sloan, and you talk about him like he's the best thing in the world."
