I walk back toward Noelle, already annoyed at myself for the tension climbing my spine. For somehow getting into this situation where I need help.
“Who was it?” she asks.
“Sutton thinks I’m mental. She set up an appointment with someone to play with my head.”
Noelle tilts her head with a smirk on her face. “Who?”
“Anna Morrow.”
Her brows lift just a smidge. “Oh.”
“‘Oh’ what?” I ask, hiding my fear in a glass of lemonade.
“I know of her,” Noelle says. “From work. A lot of guys swear by her. They say she helped them through career-ending stuff.”
Great. She helps desperate players. Sutton and the Armadillos organization is desperate, which means my brothers agreed with her.
“Did you know this was happening?”
“Matt may have asked how you would handle it,” she says, uneasy and squirming.
I slump down in the cushioned rocking chair, lean my head back and look up at the colors fading into each other as they blanket the Texas night sky.
“So, I’m going to be the first O’Ryan to fail. Failed at hockey. Failed at football.” The weight of that admission lies heavy on my chest. It hurts.
Noelle moves her chair in front of mine, making the sound like chalk on a blackboard. She winces, sneaking a peek at her baby girl asleep in the bassinet beside us.
“Look at me, Parker. O’Ryans don’t give up. Did J.D. give up after his broken leg and torn ACL? Did Greyson give up when he was traded to the Armadillos? Did Matt give up after his transplant? No. We all go through stuff and maybe this Anna Morrow can help get your mind right.” She lays her hand on my knee, squeezing. “Promise me you’ll give it a chance.”
I cover her hand with mine. “What would I do withoutyou? You’re my rock. You always have been, even when I outgrew you, you were always taking care of me.”
She breaks into an earsplitting smile. “I was practicing.”
“Being a mother?” I ask with a lump clogging my throat.
“I guess. Or maybe for this moment to make sure you know that I believe in you. You’ll conquer whatever this is.”
“Thanks. When you say it, I believe it.” I press my hands against the armrest and kiss my sister on the cheek. “I better get some rest before some shrink looks in my mind.”
“No telling what she’ll find,” she laughs.
“Yeah, maybe those fried worms you made me eat after that book came out.”
Her hands fly to her face. “Aww, I totally forgot about that. I must be persuasive.”
I grin and she wraps her arms around me.
“Love you big.”
“Love you, big. See ya.”
As I walk off, she calls out, “Call me after.”
I nod and jog around to the front and slide into my Dodge Charger. I want to believe my sister that it’s nothing to worry about, that I’m like a golfer with a case of the “yips.”
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t freaked out.
Nervous about my career, I have a difficult time sleeping through the night. Afraid of being mocked and more afraid of a doctor digging around in my head. An O’Ryan should be able to fix it themselves. I mean it’s fucking football—my family’s legacy.
