Page 45 of Fumbled Beginning

“Now that the season is over, are you ready for some downtime?” I asked, laying the chicken and peppers into the tortilla.

He handed me an extra napkin and started fixing his plate. “I’m looking forward to being able to eat normal food like this for the next few months because once the season starts, I have to follow a strict diet.”

I always admired the dedication and commitment that it took to compete at the level that he did. I was all too familiar with the sacrifices pro athletes had to make and how tough it got on their bodies, especially as they got older.

“Do you have any pregame rituals?” I carefully took a bite of my fajita, trying not to spill anything on my work clothes.

He smiled shyly. “I eat a glazed donut for breakfast every game day.”

“A donut?” I asked, in between bites of my food. “I should have known.”

“Yep, it was mine and Justin’s thing when we were kids. My mom would pick up donuts from the local bakery in town every Saturday morning before my high school games.”

“That’s sweet.” I patted the corner of my mouth with a napkin and was about to say more when his phone rang.

He dug it out of his pocket, rolled his eyes, and sent the call to voice mail.

“You can answer that?”

He leaned forward to scoop some nachos on his plate. “Nah, just my dad.”

“Do you not get along?” He looked like he would rather juggle hand grenades than answer that question.

“We have a complicated relationship.”

It seemed like whenever the topic of his home life came up, he got uncomfortable.

“Your parents are divorced, right?”

He dropped his eyes to the table. “They split up after my brother died.”

The death of his younger brother, Justin, was public knowledge, as well as his parents’ divorce. I’ve seen his mom at a few games but never his dad.

I reached for his hand across the table. “I’m sorry that you lost your brother and your family had to go through that.”

He sat up, lacing our fingers together. “I’m not sorry about my parents,” he said, surprising me. “They were miserable together. Between the doctor visits, hospital stays, and dealing with Justin’s illness for so long, it became too much for them. I was thankful that I had football to keep me busy because I didn’t have to deal with all the shit going on at home.”

“I’ve never been in your shoes, but I know dealing with a family member’s terminal illness can cause a lot of stress on the caregivers.”

“That’s correct, but nothing can prepare you for what happens after they pass away. My mom and I have always been close, but there was a period of time where she became so crippled with her own grief, I thought I lost her too. And my dad, well, he just moved on with his life and I doubted whether he even gave a shit about us at all. He would reach out from time to time but not enough and it always felt like it was out of obligation.”

Never, ever, had I appreciated my parents more than I did at that moment. Maverick and I were lucky to have parents who loved and supported us. We had a great childhood and were both close to our mom and dad. It was hard for me to picture such a different set of circumstances. My chest split wide open for him.

“How often does he call now?” I pointed to his phone.

“Whenever he needs something.” He shrugged. “Mostly money, but he wasn’t always that way.”

I was trying not to judge, but it was hard. “Does he work?”

He sipped his water. “He’s the chief of police in the town I was raised in.”

I tilted my head to the side and stared at him. I wanted to learn more but wasn’t sure if I should keep going. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” I said, leaning back in my chair and giving him an out.

“It’s fine.” He shrugged and stretched his long legs out. “It is what it is, but thankfully my mom is doing better, she’s the one I worry about.”

“Will they come to your games next season?”

“My mom yes, as for my dad, it will depend on whether or not he has someone he wants to impress or if he needs money.”

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