Don't Promise (Don't 3)

The time was ticking off the clock and I felt a ravenous desperation in my veins. He had to do this. He had to find a way to get the ball in the end zone.

Suddenly he had the ball in his hands. Instead of stepping back into his usual drop count, he ran forward and slid to get the first down.

Air gushed from my lungs. I looked at the jumbotron. There were forty-five seconds left and I wasn’t sure I would survive it.

Hawk looked calm. I saw the intensity in his eyes when the camera zoomed in on his face. He was determined and certain.

The whistle blew for the play and Hawk handed the ball off to one of the running backs. There were only thirty seconds left when he ran seven yards.

The Sharks called time out.

I didn’t know how Hawk handled this. How he was made to shield himself from the pressure. But he did. He was cool and calculated out there. I bit my lip. Honestly, it was hot as hell how he commanded that team. How he led them. How he took control.

And then somehow I let go of my worries. I knew this man more intimately than the thousands of people in the stadium. I trusted him with my body. My life. This child. I knew the game was in the hands of the man who could deliver.

I let the calm wash over me as he moved toward the line of scrimmage.

The ball was snapped. Hawk dropped back and the ball soared over the field. There was laser precision to his aim. It was amazing how he found a receiver in that sea of bodies. But he did. When no one else saw it. He did.

I clapped wildly when the ball landed in his receiver’s arms in the end zone.

“Did we win?” Hunter asked, excitedly.

“Yes!” I jumped up and down. “We did, honey. We sure did.”

My dad hugged me and Pops dished out high fives to all of us.

“I knew he could do it.” Hunter grinned. “I knew it.”

I smiled down at him. “Me too.”

“What about this one?” Hawk held out a wobbly spruce.

Hunter and I shook it off. “No, not that one.”

I pulled the plaid scarf closer to me. It almost made me tingle now every time

I wore it. It had a completely different memory in my fashion memory bank. Maybe we could use it again in tonight’s game celebration.

It had started to snow lightly around DC.

Hunter ran ahead of us. “I like this one.” He pointed to a thick Fraser fir.

“That’s the one?” Hawk asked.

“I think so.” I touched the needles on the tree. “It’s perfect.”

Hawk hauled it onto his shoulder as if it weighed the same as a bag of pinecones. Was there anything this man couldn’t do? He had just taken his team to the next round of playoffs and now he was making a little boy’s dreams come true.

“Let’s get it home.”

We followed behind him as he carried the tree to the makeshift counter at the tree farm.

By the time we got the tree into the loft all of us were freezing. The snow had made a blanket on the streets.

I rushed ahead, clearing a path for the enormous tree in front of the arched window.

Hawk rested it on the floor, adjusting the tree stand until we all agreed it was straight. He tested it a few times to make sure it wouldn’t fall.