Page 85 of Saving Barrette

And then it happens. An hour before the official start of the draft, I get a call from the GM of the Arizona Cardinals, the team I knew was highly interested in me. My hands shake as I stare at the phone. Cheering erupts in the background. They all know what this call means.

I look to my agent and he smiles. “It’s for you, A.”

Barrette moves toward me, rubbing my back. “I love you. No matter what, I love you.”

I want to say it back to her, but all I end up doing is nodding. I slide my finger across the screen and press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Asa, this the Kenny Mann with the Arizona Cardinals. How are you doing?”

Reality smacks me in the chest and I struggle to push the words out. I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I’m doing good, Mr. Mann.”

“Call me Kenny, son.”

“Yes, sir.”

There’s more laughter from him, cheers next to me, and then “Let me ask you a question.”

I wave at everyone to be quiet and press the phone harder to my ear. I can barely hear him in contrast to the noise around me. “Okay.”

“I got you on speakerphone here, but what we want to know is how you feel about the heat.”

I run my hand through my hair and then bite my nails. “I… uh, heat’s good. I think I’m a little soggy here in Seattle,” I tease, trying like hell to lighten the mood and steer the conversation away from how nervous I am.

More laughter in the background, and he says, “Well, Asa, let me ask you another question.” He pauses, maybe for the dramatics of it all considering he knows we’re being recorded today by dozens of news outlets. I wait with unnerving anticipation before he finally asks, “How do you feel about being the first pick of the draft?”

I push out a breath, tears stinging my eyes. I look at Barrette holding Crew, and finally a sense of relief washes over me. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good, good. I have to go back to the draft room but welcome to the Arizona Cardinals, son.”

“Thank you, Kenny.” I hang up the phone and set it on the counter. I look at Barrette, Crew on her hip. They’re both smiling. I’m sure Crew doesn’t even know what today is, but the fact that I’m met with their smiles after that phone call, it means the world to me.

“It’s looking like Arizona,” I tell everyone waiting and then move toward Barrette. I watch her face, the happiness, the tears, the nerves, it’s all there. It’s a big day for our family. I press my lips to her forehead and wrap my arms around her and Crew. “How do you feel about that?”

“I go where you go,” she says, repeating my own words back to me. I said that to her after her trial ended.

I breathe out a sigh and slide my lips to her ear. “I love you.”

An hour later, it’s announced to the world. “The Arizona Cardinals choose Asa Lawson, University of Washington, as their first-round pick in the 2018 NFL draft.”

With the announcement, I look at up the ceiling and think maybe—No, I know my mom played a hand in today.

The remainder of the night is a blur. I’m serious, I don’t remember a fucking thing that happens other than getting drunk. Terrell is chosen in the first round by the Pittsburg Steelers, and I think Joey is more excited than him, but you never can tell with Terrell. He does smile at me and knocks his knuckles to mine. “A, we’re in.”

“Looks like it.” Statistically speaking, 2 percent of NCAA college football players make it to the NFL, and we did.

Not long after, when the majority of everyone is gone, I’m holding a sleeping Crew in my arms. My dad’s next to me on the back patio watching the flickering of the fireplace through the window.

He turns to look at me, smiling. “I know this might not mean anything now, because I should have said it a long time ago, but I love you and I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t say it. I didn’t show it the way I should have, and I fucked up over the years, but you were always what was most important to me. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if I hadn’t gotten the chance to be your dad.”

I smile at him and then look down at Crew, brushing his thick blond hair from his forehead before kissing him. I know exactly what he means.

It’s after one in the morning before everyone leaves for the night and Barrette and I are alone in our room. I sink down to my knees in front of her at the foot of the bed.

She looks down at me, so sure, so happy. “I’m so proud of you.”

It feels weird hearing her say that to me. I should be saying it to her. She’s come so far since that night her life was destroyed. Now she’s a mother, a wife, a friend, an amazing woman, and she’s mine. All mine.

I wrap my arms around her waist, my head on her chest listening to the steady beat of her heart. It calms me in a way I hadn’t been expecting. This girl, she’s my future just as much as playing in the NFL, and without her, I don’t think I would have gotten here. I wanted to quit so many times and give her a stable life. But just like I did for her, she pushed me forward and kept reminding me of the goal. I think about the signing bonus, the salary they offered me, and though I knew it wasn’t a guarantee, finally I can provide her and Crew with a life we only dreamed of having. The life they deserve. “I’m proud of you, Barrette,” I tell her, hoping the intention of my words isn’t lost in the moment. She needs to know that she should be proud of what she’s overcome.

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