Page 71 of Fumble Into the End Zone

He smirked as I rolled my eyes. With two plates in hand, he served my mother and Mrs. Eddy. By the time he came back, I had Harley’s plate prepared. I had already cut her chicken, something he informed me she needed during prep. My father kissed my hand, after I sat his plate on the brown place setting.

Marcus instructed me to sit, pulling back my chair. He served my plate, making himself last. I frowned at not being able to serve him. As a family, we locked hands and prayed.

“Marcus, I hear you’re a running back,” Trendy said and I dropped my head.

“Ma’am, I’m a wide receiver, but it’s the same game. Mia tells me you’re responsible for her heart and sense of style,” he said.

If Trendy smiled any harder, she could’ve been a dentist.

“Mia does get her manners and sense of style from me,” my mother said.

“How did she get into podcasting?” Marcus asked.

My father cleared his throat, and I smiled. Memories of being on the set of the sports news and watching interviews pushed me to pursue a journalism and marketing degree.

“I’ll take the credit for her interest in interviewing. It’s all about asking the tough questions. Chasing the story.” Clarence’s words were filled with passion as his chest inflated.

He loved researching and collecting people’s life stories. He won the Pulitzer Prize for his interview with disgraced boxer, Evan Pounds. People were hooked to their televisions after he was banned by the boxing commission.

“I wanted Mia to continue with her ballet lessons. She could’ve been a principal ballerina by now,” Trendy said.

Harley’s eyes widened as she glared at me. “You were a ballerina?” she questioned, trembling with excitement.

My mother grossly overstated my involvement in ballet. I danced for maybe three years to make her happy. This was a ploy by my mother to recruit Harley.

“Oh, Harley. She was fabulous. I have the pictures to prove it.”

I shook my head no at my mother, but it was too late. She had sparked the interest in Harley’s heart.

Chapter 11

Special Teams and Promises

Marcus

“Daddy, can I please take dance classes?” Harley pleaded as she stood next to me.

After dinner, we migrated to the living room. Trendy had done a number on my daughter. She threw out a variety of hobbies over dinner, including ballet classes, horseback riding and pageants, but dance had won out. I was not surprised because Harley had mentioned dance class before, but I didn’t have the support at the time.

“We will see. I’ll have to talk to Mia and Ms. Renee about getting you to dance class when I’m gone through the week,” I said.

Harley’s eyes toggled over to Mia, sitting next to me.

“Marcus, don’t you worry about it. I could get Harley to dance class. I’m not doing anything,” Trendy offered, and Mia sucked her teeth.

Harley’s circle of support had grown in the last two weeks. There was a time I was afraid she wouldn’t have a mother figure, but that’s no longer the case.

“Marcus, a word?” Clarence asked and raised from the couch.

I matched his movement and led him toward the back patio through the kitchen. We stepped on the concrete, and I stood, giving him eye contact. One day, I knew I would be doing this for Harley and the seven daughters Mia and I would create.

“What are your intentions with my daughter? Mia is my angel. She and Trendy both love little Harley already. My biggest regret as a father was not whooping Nathan’s ass. He had my wife and daughter upset,” Clarence said.

Regret shimmered in his eyes as he spoke and, as a father, I couldn’t have taken the easy road. I don’t know what it was with Bryce and Mr. Robinson, but I was built different.

“Mr. Robinson, I would marry Mia right now. I’m trying to match her speed, but I want her as my wife and mother to Harley. As a man and father, I understand your concerns. To get Mia to date me, I gave her power of attorney over my daughter. I’m the one with the most to lose. I don’t want to explain to my daughter why her Ms. Mia isn’t around. You’re talking to a man whose mother left him and whose baby mother left our daughter at the hospital. Harley loves her already. You have my word as a man and father. Hurting Mia isn’t my intention but If you could convince her to marry me, I would appreciate it,” I said and extended my hand.

Mr. Robinson studied my face. Although I was taller by several inches, we were somehow the same height. He took my hand and shook it.

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