Holding Onto Forever
“Are you ready?” I know she is, but the alternate thought in my head would come off very snotty and the last thing I want to deal with is a pissed off Dessie. Since she broke the news of her pregnancy, she’s done everything she can to appease me, while I’ve been a miserable jerk.
The ride to the airport is done in relative quietness. It’s barely six and pitch black outside with the exception of the decorations. We’ll arrive at my parents late, far too late for us to stay up and talk. I planned it this way. Tomorrow… well, it’s another day and one I won’t be able to dodge.
As soon as we get out of the car, someone screams out my name. I’ve been trained over the years to ignore the fans. I try with this one, but he’s relentless.
“Hey, Noah, can I get a pic?” He puts his arm around me before I can even agree to the invasion. I smile and try to step away, but he pulls out a pen and scrambles in his pocket, searching for a piece of paper for me to write on.
“Here, babe,” Dessie says, handing me a half sheet out of her oversized purse.
“Thanks,” I say before turning to the guy. “What’s your name?”
“Jeff, but can you make it to my little brother? He’s in the hospital and you’re his favorite player.”
“What’s his name?”
“Leo,” he says, giving me pause.
“Leo, huh?” I can’t say the name without smiling. I wish I had contact information for Leo back in Chicago. I could certainly use his advice right about now. “Can you FaceTime him?”
Jeff’s eyes go wide. He starts to fumble with his phone. His face lights up when his brother comes on. “Leo, you’re never going to guess who I ran into at the airport.” He angles the phone so we’re both in the screen.
“Holy shit,” Leo says after he removes his oxygen mask. The way he looks reminds me of Peyton. “You’re my fave.”
“Thanks, Leo, for the support. I hope you get better, man.”
“Yeah, me too. And I hope you kick ass next year.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Jeff takes the phone and tells his brother he’ll see him later. I don’t know why I continue to watch their exchange but I do. When he hangs up, I hand him the sheet of paper I autographed and the card for my manager. “When you get a chance, call this number. It’s my manager. Tell him we met and you’re leaving word about your brother. I’d like to visit him when I get back in a week.”
“Wow, really? Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Jeff.”
“Yes, you too. I can’t thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure.” I watch Jeff walk down toward the taxi line, waiting until he’s out of sight before I turn my attention back to Dessie and all her luggage. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. The porter took our stuff and security is ready to escort us to the first class lounge.”
I nod and fall in line behind her. Now that we’re inside the airport, both our names are called, but neither of us stops. For the past year and a half, we’ve been a high-profile couple, and the media is going to have a field day when they find out she’s pregnant.
By the time we get through the TSA checkpoint, our flight is about to board. The security guard drops us off at our gate just as first class is being called. Dessie and I walk by, listening to the murmurs of people, wondering if it is in fact us.
“What you did back there for that kid, that was very nice of you,” Dessie says once we’re situated.
“It felt like the right thing to do. I’m going to go see him next week when we get back. Maybe round up a few of the guys if they’re in town.”
“You’re going to make a great father, Noah.” I turn away from her so she doesn’t see the anger in my eyes. I want to be excited about this baby, I do, but I can’t help to think we’re doing the wrong thing by staying together for the sake of the baby. All I know is that when I get to Beaumont, my dad, Nick and I are having a long talk. I need their advice, their guidance and help. I don’t want to make a mistake I’ll regret later or make a rash decision that comes back to bite me in the ass. I have to remember, Dessie and I created this baby together, it’s just shitty luck I don’t want to be with his or her mom anymore.
23
Peyton
I miss the snow. I miss the gloom of overcast days. The wind, rain and feel of Christmas that Chicago has. I never thought I would say those words, but it’s true. I enjoy the beach, but being here in December seems all sorts of wrong. Watching my dad, brother and Ben surf, while carols play loudly from the surrounding houses, doesn’t make sense.