Page 54 of Broken Play
Maybe Greyson listened.
TWENTY-NINE
GREYSON
On Mondays after a Sunday game, we're off except for any physical therapy or medical treatment. It's time for our bodies to heal. Of course, I watch raw film of yesterday's game as well as the next opponent and jot down notes. I notice Sutton on the sidelines during the game, cheering when I threw a touchdown pass. She sends me a short text this morning.
BL: House at seven?
Me: Mine or yours?
BL: Yours. I want to ride.
Me: By the way, that was one hell of a speech. Who knew the word trust could get grown men so riled up? And I'm always available for you to ride.
Flirting and making Sutton blush is my favorite thing to do. She gives me the eye-roll emoji, and it triggers an idea.
Luckily, Dad answers when I call because I know his day starts early on Monday mornings, preparing the coaches and dissecting his next opponent.
"Hey, thanks for coming to the game yesterday." He runs himself ragged between his games on Saturdays and making it to see Noelle cheer for her team. He takes a little time off on Sundays and will be able to come to most of the games.
"Do you think I would miss the first game in history where the head coach and starting quarterback are brothers and my sons? Your mom would send down lightning to strike if I didn't." A laugh rumbles and dies on his tongue. "She would be so proud of the men you've become and how close you two stayed. Before the kids came along and it was just you and John David, she would say, 'My boys this and my boys that.' I used to remind her thather boysare my boys, too."
Hearing the emotion in Dad's voice causes an admission. "I don't know if she would be proud of me."
"Of course, she would. You were her baby boy for over a decade before Parker came along."
"Mom would have wanted me to find someone to share my life with by now."
"What's bringing this on?"
Stammering, I say, "I don't know." But I do. Looking at my sketch pad, I see I've drawn Sutton trying to sneak into my room and then another of her face with lockers behind her and the tops of the players' heads listening to her.
"Son, your mom trusts that you'll know when you find the right person, just like I do."
"My house is so empty. I never felt like that in Denver, but being at home and running into my friends from school can be a little depressing. They're going to the lake on theweekends with their wives and children. And I'm sitting in my big-ass den watching film by myself."
Silence cloaks the phone, and finally Dad asks, "Do you still love playing football?"
"Absolutely." Doubt never enters my mind. "But I don't want football to take away my chance at happiness for the rest of my life."
"Why would it? Plenty of players are married."
"I don't know. I'm just thinking aloud. The reason I called is that I'm going to van two of the horses to my land. Is that okay?"
"Just don't take Noelle's favorite, Gypsy."
"I won't. And Dad, thanks. I just want what you and Mom had."
"You will, Greyson. You will."
After we hang up, I drive to Dad's house. As soon as I walk in to grab the barn keys, I hear someone stomping around inside. I go to Witt's room, but it's not him, and I realize he's already at the high school. Parker rounds the corner, and I'm stopped in my tracks. My brows rise. "What are you doing here? And why in the hell didn't Dad tell me you were home? I just talked to him."
Clothes are being fired at the clothes hamper and his open dresser drawers. Parker snaps a shirt that lands on the bed. "Dad doesn't know." His voice is nearly inaudible.
I suck in a helium tank of air and let my body fall onto his bed. Leaning over, with my elbows on my knees, I shove my fingers into my hair. All I want is to take a couple of horses, and now I'm caught in the middle with no plausible deniability.
I've never seen Parker act this way, stomping, hissing,and mumbling to himself. I catch his elbow, and he says, "Don't touch me."
