Page 138 of Fumble Into the End Zone

Marcus sat back and caressed my hand. “I’ll get a private investigator to get her address, and I’ll mail it to her, but I don’t want her in my life. Seeing her at the funeral brought pain and hurt. The way she disrespected Granny confirmed everything for me. Under no circumstances will her energy be around me, Wifey and my babies. Granny saidliveand I intend to do it.”

He pulled out his phone, and I watched him block her number.

Chapter 19

New Beginnings

Mia

Ayear and a half later

“Mom, why do I have to talk to the judge? You are already my mom and everybody knows. Daddy knows it, Papa and Grandma knows it, Uncle Bryce knows it, Aunt Kindness and Glamour Auntie Stacie knows it...”

I smiled as I brushed Harley’s hair into a high ponytail and bow. Today, the judge signs off on the adoption papers, but Harley must speak with her first.

“Butterfly, everyone knows you belong to me. But we want it to be legal as well,” I said.

Harley shrugged, mirroring her father when they didn’t stress over things. As one of the babies whined, she jetted from the room. Harley had been the biggest help with the twins, Marley and Marcus Jr. She was my extra hands when my parents weren’t staying over. I went into labor a few weeks earlier than expected. For two months, our fraternal twins stayed in the NICU.

It was rough with Marcus still grieving and training camp, but our village showed up. Stacie was the biggest help of themall, but the team wives and girlfriends stepped in as well. We pushed back the wedding to after the Elite Bowl, which worked perfectly for Kindness and me. Last month, on a perfect day in May, I walked down the aisle to my husband. We were surrounded by family, friends, and teammates.

I turned off the light and walked downstairs to my family sitting on the couch. Marcus Jr. kicked his feet and giggled as Harley dangled his binky over his face.

“Tell Mommy I want another round of twins,” Marcus said to our daughter Marley, and she giggled with her hands in her mouth.

A few years ago, I didn’t think this was possible. I was broken and unwilling to entertain any man. But a twenty-two-year-old single father entered my life at the right moment. He blessed me with a daughter, twins, laughter, trust, and sexual freedom.

“We want more,” Marcus said as he bounced our daughter on his leg.

Leaving the courthouse, my heart was on the brink of bursting. Harley was officially my daughter. We stood as a family in front of the judge, holding a printed adopted sign. As Marcus drove, I posted a picture on social media. One with us as a family, and one of Harley and I, cheek to cheek with the caption saying officially mine.

“And the judge asked how you treated me. And if I wanted you to be my mom?” Harley said from the back seat.

“I told her you were already my mom, and I love you. This was for the legal stuff. I got aunties now and me and Grandmawere creating a sunglass business. Grandpa said I can have another pony,” she said.

I peered over at Marcus as he smiled. He never complained about how my parents spoiled our children.

“And I told her about my plans to be a radio host, doctor and a farmer when I grow up. Grandpa said I’m super smart with a trust fund and I can do anything I wanted to do.”

Every time she meets someone with a cool profession, she adds it to her occupation list. With the twins asleep, Harley continued to talk. Since we enrolled her into therapy, my little butterfly came out of her shell.

“I bet Granny was proud today,” Harley said.

“I bet she was, too,” Marcus replied with a hint of sadness.

I kissed his hand for comfort. A few blocks from home, I received a private message on my social media. I opened it and my mouth parted.

Thank you for doing what I wasn’t given an opportunity

to do. I don’t want to cause any trouble. Please keep posting her milestones. It’s my way of loving her from a distance. Don’t tell Marcus. I know he is upset with me. If she ever wants to meet me, I’m willing.

She uploaded a picture of her with Harley in the hospital bed. I clicked her profile to find Sierra Jackson. She was an accountant living in California with a husband and son. I peered over the seat to see the similarities between her and Harley. The high cheekbones and eyes. I hearted her message and closed out the thread.

“Baby, what is this?” Marcus asked as we pulled into the driveway filled with cars.

A largeCongratulationsbanner swayed with balloons outside our house.

“You know we had to celebrate the adoption. Shouldn’t you still be happy, Mr. Two-time Elite Bowl Champion,” I said to smooth things over.

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