“I’m not the sitter,” I say, but she doesn't seem to care. “I’m—” I stop talking when Roxy stirs. Elena goes to her, jabs her elbow in my side, and picks her daughter up. Roxy cries out.
“Elena, maybe let Roxy wake up a bit before you hurt her,” Susan suggests calmly.
Roxy rubs the sleep from her eyes and looks at me, and then she looks at her mother. “Down,” she says, but Elena ignores her. “I want down.” This time she starts kicking until Elena has no choice but to set Roxy onto her feet. She comes running to me and throws herself onto my lap. I don’t look at Elena because I can feel the daggers piercing my skin.
“It’s okay, Roxy.” I pick her up and set her next to Susan. “I gotta go home, but I’ll see you at the park in a couple of days, okay?”
“No, stay,” Roxy cries.
Susan holds onto Roxy as she starts to cry. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to say something that could likely hurt Julius’s divorce case. I tell Reggie I’ll see him later, but he doesn’t respond. I don’t really expect him to with his mom in the room.
No sooner does the door shut behind me, I hear it open again. Stupidly, I turn and look only to find Elena coming toward me. “I’m back now, so whatever you have going on with my husband, it ends now.” She turns and walks back into the house. The door clicks shut, and I expect silence. Yet, all I hear is screaming.
Thirty
Julius
The game was brutal. There is no other word to describe it. The hit I took late in the fourth has made it hard to breathe. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that my chest guard protected me tonight. If it wasn’t for the pads, I think my chest would’ve caved in. What makes this pain I’m feeling worse is that the referee didn’t even throw a flag. Even the instant replay, which was for the benefit of the hometown crowd, showed the severity of it, and yet nothing. I can only hope there is a fine coming down from the league, but I won’t hold my breath. Not that I can right now anyway.
We have an hour from when the game is over to get showered, changed, and on the bus to go to the airport. It’s late here, and I’m ready to be in my own bed. The past two nights at the hotel yielded very little sleep for me.
After I shower, I dress quickly and head out of the locker room. Fans are waiting when a bunch of us exit the building, asking for autographs. I give mine freely because you never know when I might be traded to this team or another, and if the fans have waited for you to come out, you might as well reward them. I’m not fooled though. I’m sure these people rooted against the Pioneers and me for four quarters, but I’m not holding that against them. Everyone makes mistakes.
Once I’m on the bus, I turn my phone on, and while I wait for it to come to life, I rest my head on the tinted glass and close my eyes. All I want to do is sleep, lay in bed for the next two or three days while my body heals. I’m thankful we have tomorrow, as well as Tuesday off, because I need time.
My phone vibrates in my hand. The notifications are non-stop. I watch as the text messages come in, all from my mom, Reggie, and Elena. Scrolling, I look for the one from Autumn and find nothing. I try not to let that bother me, but it does. I know I messed up, but I thought she had forgiven me. The last I knew, she was coming over to watch the game with my parents and kids. I suppose there is a chance she changed her mind or was called into work, but I think she would’ve texted me or something. At least, I hope she would’ve.
Noah sits down across from me and sighs heavily. He took a beating too but managed to survive long enough to give us the victory. There were times during the game when I thought our offensive line was playing for the other team. Too many open holes left Noah vulnerable. I know everyone has an off-game. Hell, I’ve had many, but for the whole line, whose purpose is to protect the quarterback, to fail at their job is unheard of.
“I’m ready for vacation,” Noah says. His eyes are closed, and his head is resting against the seat.
“I’d like to start in February if you don’t mind. Preferably starting the second or third week.”
Noah laughs. “I hear ya. That’s my plan as well, although Peyton may have to ask for time off.”