Page 122 of The Backup Plan

Trish reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Sometimes not knowing is better. Sometimes it’s easier to enjoy the moment. Sometimes people learn how to bend when they only thought they could break. And sometimes you just go with the flow and see where it takes you.”

I nod even though that doesn’t make the not knowing any easier.

Below us the whistle blows and the offensive line resets.

And for the first time since this started, I ponder not what this is, but what exactly it will cost me.

Lucas

“Give me five,” I mutter to one of the guys as I pass, finger raised. The noise behind me—laughter and music thumping—fades as I push through the doors to the quieter section that leads toward the players’ exit. I lift the phone to my ear, needing to make the call now before the weekend gets too busy and I forget.

It’s the first of the month.

She answers on the third ring.

“Lucas,” she says, tired but warm. “I’ve been so busy that I forgot it was the first.”

“What do you mean it’s the first?” I feign naivety.

She chuckles like a parent who’s telling their kid they haven’t outsmarted them. “You call on the first. Derrick around the tenth. And Fraber near the end of the month.”

“Huh. Didn’t realize that.”

Her laugh is louder now. “You’re so full of shit, but I’ll just play along.”

“You’re family,” I say. It’s all I need to say for her to feel like she’s not all alone. “Just wanted to call and check in. See how things are. How the kids are.”

She pauses. “Everything is going well. Benji is starting his fall baseball league soon. Hannah is suddenly into dance.”

“And you?”

“The same as last month. And the month before that. We’re doing good here.”

“And Manring?” I ask cautiously.

“He’s around, and more than he has been in a long time. He seems more stable this time. Like maybe he’s dealt with more issues than he had before. But you know how it goes . . .”

“I do.” I pull down on the back of my neck. “But I’m always pulling for him.”

“I know you are, and he knows in his own way that you are even if seeing you hurts him.”

It hurts all of us. Seeing a future reflection of what could happen to any one of us sucks. Realizing that just because you’re strong physically doesn’t mean that you are mentally—especially when you’re stripped bare of what has defined you your whole life. This whole thing with Manring has taught me that you need mental strength. Belief in yourself. People in your corner. And for me, those people have always been Brendan, Jenny and my teammates.

“I know,” I say as I nod at another player who walks by.

“We talk, you know,” she says. “The wives. You check in with more than just us.” There’s a long pause. “We appreciate it more than you know, Lucas.”

We talk a bit more about school performances and how fast the kids are growing. She tells me a story about Benji knocking over a cereal display at the grocery store and how boxes flew all over.

Normal things. Safe things.

“Lucas?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not him, you know.”

I pause. “What do you mean?”