“Dad has two touchdowns! I told you we are going to win.”
“Let’s hope, Reggie.”
The game is back and forth. The Pioneers go up. The other team catches us. The other team moves ahead. The Pioneers take the lead. My anxiety level is off the charts. There is under two minutes left in the game, and it’s tied. I’m biting my knuckles. My heart is racing. And my knees are weak.
It’s fourth down.
And we have the ball.
Noah puts the play in motion.
Bodies are flying everywhere.
I’m praying.
His arm rears back to throw and then drops down.
Liam yells for his son to throw the ball.
Bianca Westbury tells the referee to pull his head out of his ass because the other team did something illegal.
Noah throws the brown leather odd-shaped ball. It flies through the air—bodies jump. Hands fight for control.
One person comes down with the ball, and the stadium erupts.
Everyone around me screams.
Julius has it, and he’s crossed the plane.
“Touchdown!” the announcer screams.
Everything is a blur until Julius stands at the railing, yelling my name. I go to him and kiss him, thankful he’s removed his helmet. He hands me the ball. “Read it,” he says.
Read it?
I look at the ball with its black writing, ‘Will you marry me, Weather Girl?’
“Julius?”
Someone on the sideline hands him a box. He opens it and shows me a ring nestled in a black cushion. “Autumn LaRosa, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
I nod and cover my mouth. “Yes. Yes. Holy crap, Julius.”
“Hold this. Don’t put it on yet. I’ll do that after we win this game!” He kisses me and sets the box in my hand. When reality sets in, the clock is at zero, and confetti is raining down from the sky. It takes me a moment to grasp the situation until Reggie is at my side, jumping up and down.
The Portland Pioneers have won the Superbowl.