Page 41 of A Game Plan for Love

I spin and launch myself at Nathalie, forcing her into a brutal hug, but she quickly returns the embrace. “You are an angel sent from the gods.”

She laughs. “Thank you?”

“Nora was asking me questions I didn’t have answers for,” I whisper when I pull away.

Nora rams into her leg, wrapping her small arms around Nathalie. “Ms. Nathalie! Where’s Deon?”

My daughter searches the aisle, looking for the quarterback.

“He’s at home,” Nathalie says, “Putting together his new grill for a family barbecue next week.” She gestures at her cart, full of meat and salads. “He was grumbling quite a bit when I left.”

She laughs, and Nora tugs at her shirt. “What’s family barbecue?”

“My parents usually host a family dinner every week,” Nathalie explains, “but this time, I’m having it at my house since they’re going on vacation.”

“Is your family big?”

Oh no, I know where this is going, and it’s going to be a spear to my heart.

“I have a brother and a sister, and my two parents. But my friends are also my family, so they’ll be there, too.” Nathalie pauses, then asks, “Would you two like to join?”

“Oh, I—”

“No pressure. It’s casual, and just a way to make sure we all see each other. I know Declan would love it if you two came.”

“Decy will be there?”

She has Nora’s attention now. This is not good for me. Nora will ask to go, and I won’t have the mental fortitude to tell her no, because I want to see the man as much as she does.

“Yes.”

“Mom?” Nora spins to me. “Do you think Decy would like it if I made him a drawing?”

“He would love that very much,” Nathalie says, her gaze softening. She looks between Nora and me, and though it seems like there’s more she wants to say, she just smiles and pulls out her phone. “I can send you my address.”

I put my number into her phone and she quickly sends her address. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

She says goodbye to Nora, and then we’re alone again in the aisle.

Declan’s friends are kind and compassionate. So much more than only teammates. They cheer each other on and make an effort to spend time with one another. I’ve watched as they help in times of difficulty, and it’s obvious they love each other deeply.

It’s hard not to be jealous.

I love my daughter, and I don’t regret a single decision I’ve made, but I ache for community. It’s something I had in college with my teammates, but it wasn’t built and nurtured like Declan and his friends. It was situational—we were friends because we were on the same team.

No other reason.

And when I got pregnant and dropped from the team, they no longer reached out, even when I tried. It’s not just a lack of community for me, but for Nora, too. No grandparents to spoil her or aunts and uncles to dote on. We have each other, and it’s been enough, but will it be enough forever? Or will she begin to resent our little world?

I’ve been alone for so long, it became easy to compartmentalize the debilitating loneliness. But Declan and his friends have ripped off the bandage I’ve used to cover the open wound.

What would life look like if we had a village?

It’s a quiet shopping trip, and an even quieter afternoon.

Nora spends all day working on drawings for Declan, and I have to rub away the discomfort in my chest. She puts all of her effort into her work, offering me updates periodically. After I put her to bed, tidy up her craft area, and settle into bed myself, I pull out my phone.

Outside of the message Declan sent in the nutrition room, he’s never texted me.

---