Page 32 of Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

My heart aches at the past tense use when he speaks about them.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you happen to be a pretty good girl uncle, too.”

Jonah doesn’t say anything, he just looks at me openly, a little pink hitting his cheeks.

“So I guess this is how it’s going to be now,” I say to him.

“What do you mean?”

“We went from not seeing each other at all, to running into each other all the time.”

He hesitates, and then he says, “I hope so.”

Butterflies dance their way around my stomach.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he says, his gaze traveling over me.

I glance down at the dress and smooth the skirt out. “Thank you.”

“I’m ready,” Vivi says as she moves to stand next to Jonah. She takes his hand, and his large one wraps around hers, covering it entirely.

“Okay, then,” he says, looking at her and then at me.

Together the three of us walk toward the door. I’m not leaving, I’m just walking them out apparently.

The staff member that took my bag, hands Vivi a goodie bag that has her name on it. Her face lights up as she glances at the contents. While I’m certain she got the goodies everyone else is getting, her bag has a few more things stuffed inside.

“So I’ll see you around?” he says.

And using his words from that day in Hyde Park Village, I tell him, “I hope so.”

Chapter 13

Jonah

When I was first drafted out of college, Carolina took me in the fifth round. To say I was excited would be an understatement. While I do grasp how hard it is to stay on a team and be consistently a part of their fifty-three-man roster, naive me thought that didn’t apply to me. I was dedicated, worked hard, and couldn’t fathom that I wasn’t in it until the end. With every team I’ve played on in my football career, I was with one team. There was my little league team, the Colts; my high school team, the Braves; and my college team, the Bulls. I wasn’t one of those players who jumped around to find the best team, or entered into the portal in hopes to be seen by someone possibly better. When I commit, I commit.

And I committed to Carolina.

I bought into the leadership team, the words they spoke, the brand, the city, I even bought my first condo. I lived, breathed, and bled for Carolina, so when my agent and the coach sat me down to inform me that I was being traded, I was devastated.

All I could think about was, “What did I not do to make them believe in me like I believed in them?”

Stepping outside of myself, I understand these franchises are a business and I recognized that the move they were making was a good one for the team, but it didn’t make me feel any better. It made me feel like my worth and commitment was devalued and it sent me spiraling.

So it was mid-season of my second year, the beginning of October and one month before the trade deadline that I packed my bags and moved to Tampa determined to be even better than I was before.

Every team has a culture, a vibe, and a motto or slogan, but at the time I was so focused on myself and proving to the team what I could do, that I overlooked the depth of ours. Everyone has heard of “Clear eyes, full hearts,” or “Faith, family, and football,” but for the Tarpons it’s a little different, it’s, “Victory starts in the heart.”

The heart is where the most honest and pure emotions occur. Love, compassion, tenderness, devotion, faithfulness, all emotions that when they’re not diluted with thoughts from the brain, speak to who we are. For both teams, I was trying to be an individual. An individual who showed up, worked hard, and was trying to keep my place. But it was when John died that I felt the heart—the heart of the team.

I loved my teammates in Carolina, we were great friends, but here in Tampa the team is so much more, they’re a family. I’d done nothing to receive the love and support that they all showered me with, but that’s the thing about family, they never once ask for anything in return. It was freely given.

And once I succumbed to the true meaning of that phrase, everything changed. Victory became more than just winning games, which we still did, because the chemistry between us as the players changed too, but it was about how we chose to live our lives.

With each other.

For each other.