Page 59 of Player Misconduct
Of course they did.
The shop downtown is all soft lighting and pale wood. Creams, pale pinks, blues, and yellows. Every stuffed animal imaginable lines the shelves, along with baby books, luxury breast pumps, and strollers that cost more than my car.
The sunlight spills through the wide front window. It smells like clean linen and lavender, and for the first time in weeks, my shoulders relax.
Not because I need retail therapy, but because being here, with my friends, embracing this baby and making this a fun experience for me, lets me revel a little in the fact that this baby is real. It’s not just something between me and my OBGYN anymore. Others know and they might even be more excited about it all then me.
Rows of tiny sweaters and impossibly small socks hang from copper racks. Peyton’s already fingering a line of plush animals, muttering about how the giraffe looks like her podcast co-host. Vivi’s holding up a delicate muslin blanket printed with tiny stars.
“This is the one,” she says decisively. “Gender-neutral, classy,andmachine washable. We’re already nailing this.”
I laugh and then take a sip of my drink they got me before we met up. “I don’t even have a crib yet.”
“Then start with something small,” Peyton says. “Every story starts somewhere.”
I drift toward the back, fingertips trailing over soft fabrics and wooden mobiles shaped like clouds. For a second, I let myself imagine it. A tiny nursery corner in my studio apartment, the soft light through the window, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat against my chest.
I’ve made every decision in my life with logic and precision. Med school, residency, fellowships, the NFL team I worked for before the Hawkeyes. Each one was planned, deliberate, and earned.
This… this wasn’t.
And yet, somehow, it feels like the first thing that’s ever been right. The only thing that feels off. The baby’s dad has no clue.
Vivi appears beside me, holding up a tiny onesie that saysrookie of the year. I can’t help it—I smile.
She grins back. “That’s the first real smile I’ve seen from you in weeks.”
“It’s hormones,” I tease.
“Bullshit.” She bumps my shoulder. “That’s joy, and you’re allowed to feel it.”
She’s right, it is joy. I can’t pretend that being a mother isn’t something I’ve always thought I’d be, even if the idea of turning into my mother terrifies me. I already love this baby so much. I just wish that the nagging complications of who the father is, isn’t the final nail in my career coffin. It would be easier to tell him if I didn’t think dropping this baby bomb on him didn’t ruin his new happiness.
Across the store, Peyton calls out, “You know who’s back in town, right?”
The air shifts.
Vivi shoots her a warning look, but Peyton barrels on, unbothered. “The guys started trickling in yesterday. Training camp orientation is this week. I heard Aleksi’s flight landed last night.”
My heart gives a traitorous thump.
I smooth my hand over my stomach, grounding myself.
Vivi rubs my arm. “Don’t worry. He probably has terrible jet lag. You probably have another day or two to gather what you’re going to tell him,” she says, glancing down at the now, three month tiny baby bump that’s at the point of not being able to hide anymore.
For the last month, I just looked bloated and my ‘bigger’ scrubs did most of the hiding for me. But now I’ve “popped” per Isla and my little baby bump is pretty hard to pass off as just putting on a few pounds.
“Are you going to tell him?” Peyton asks gently.
“Yes, but I'm afraid to.” The word comes out wobbly and unsure. “He’s got a life in Finland now. A girlfriend. I saw the photos.”
Vivi frowns. “You don’t know that—”
“I do,” I say quietly. “And even if I didn’t, it doesn’t matter. He’d drop everything if I told him. His career, his team… her. He’d feel like he had to, I just know it. I don’t want him to drop everything for me and this baby. I can raise it on my own.”
Peyton shakes her head. “Don’t you think you should let him choose what’s worth giving up? I mean, if you’re willing to let him have a choice is any of this?”
“I’m protecting the baby, and him… and the Hawkeyes."
