Chapter 28
Theo
A sense of dread fills my entire body as I park my truck in front of my childhood home, knowing I’m going to spend the entirety of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with my dad. Usually, the athletic department banquet happens every Christmas Eve, but due to construction on campus, they moved it to the end of January.
I’m happy about being able to see my sister, her husband, and my nephew. But I could go without my dad talking my ear off about the upcoming draft and how I could do something better, how it’s never enough.
As soon as my feet hit the dirt path, Louie comes running up to me and I take the time to pet him.
“Hey, Lou. I missed you, big guy,” I tell him as I scratch behind his ears and take in the scenery.
Ever since my sister started helping out at the farm, it’s looked better and better every year, especially since Christmastime is our busiest season. They had an entire barn built for a market, where local vendors can come and sell their products to holiday shoppers.
There are decorations and lights all around the property, and the large spruce tree in the front yard is the star of the show. It is wrapped with colorful lights and ornaments that kids make when they’re here to visit the animals or craft events with their families.
A pang of longing hits me that Marcela isn’t here, since she’s also busy with family. I assumed we’d try to go to one another’s holiday festivities, but Marcela said we should both enjoy the time with our families and not worry about it.
I tried not to overthink it and remind myself that we are supposed to be just friends, but I can’t find it in myself to want to pretend anymore. Not when my heart races the way it does every time she smiles at me. Or the way my skin heats when she touches me. Don’t even get me started on the feeling of being inside of her.
God, last night was … fucking phenomenal. She was. We were. The way our bodies fit so perfectly together isn’t just a coincidence, Marcela is meant to be mine.
A door closing snaps my attention to the front porch, where Mason is running down the steps towards me. “Uncle Theoooo!”
His wide smile makes my entire body light up with joy, and I pick him up and snuggle him into my arms. “Sunny boy, I missed you,” I tell him before putting him back down.
As soon his feet hit the ground, he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the house.
“We got so many plans. Santa is coming tomorrow, did you know that?” he exclaims, making me miss the excitement of being a kid on Christmas Eve.
“I hope I made the nice list,” I tell him as we kick our boots off on the doormat.
His large brown eyes are serious as he looks up at me, finger pointed at my chest. “You better hope so. Or you’ll have no gifts to open tomorrow.”
I chuckle as we walk into the house together. “That’s okay. I don’t need gifts.”
“That’s okay, ‘cause I got you—”
“Mason,” Ally cuts him off with a warning. “Remember what we talked about? We don’t tell people what we got for their presents.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” he apologizes, then runs off to the living room.
She shakes her head and hugs me. “He already told David what we got him. Little bugger.”
“Hey, my nephew is perfect,” I scold her mockingly.
David’s six-foot-five frame makes its way down the steps, wearing Christmas pajamas. “If he’s so perfect, you should take him for a full weekend and then get back to us on that,” he jokes, bumping my fist.
“I’d love to,” I tell him, because kids have never bothered me. Sure, they can be a lot, but I’ve always loved spending time with them.
The three of us make our way to the living room where Mason is on the floor playing with cars, and my dad is sitting in his recliner watching sports highlights on the large flat screen TV.
“Hey, Dad,” I call out.
“Hey, son, how’s it going?” he asks, looking me up and down. Probably to ensure I’ve been sticking to my diet and training.
“Happy to get a break from school for a bit, and you?” I say as I sit on the tan-colored couch, settling into the spot I sat in for years growing up.
It reminds me of early mornings with my sister, watching cartoons before school. Or that one time I was sick and slept on the couch while my dad slept on the recliner to keep an eye on me. The memory makes me determined to try to have a good visit, because things weren’t always this way.
There were times growing up where every conversation was not related to football, when my dad and I had an actual relationship.
“I’m good. Ready to spend the day with my family and watch some football tomorrow,” he replies, taking a sip of his beer.
It was a tradition in the Miller household. We start our Christmas morning by opening gifts, followed by a big breakfast. Then we spend the day watching football and preparing a big dinner. More often than not, I find myself in the kitchen with Ally, wanting to spend the least amount of time watching the game.
When you’re forced to play football and it’s all your dad talks about with you, it makes you hate even watching it. Which sucks, because as a kid, there was a time I did enjoy it. That was until it became a part of each second of every day.
“Where’s Marcela?” Ally adds when I don’t say anything.
“She has a lot of family things going on, so we couldn’t make it work,” I explain, my fingers twitching to text her. We’ve already spoken earlier today, but I find myself wanting to talk to her again.
“That makes sense. She’s a lovely girl. I really hope you don’t lose her,” she says, giving me a warning look.
“Me either,” I whisper to myself.
If only she knew.
After dinner, I head for the stables, craving some alone time. Dinner wasn’t bad, but I found myself thinking about my mom a lot in what used to be her favorite place. I brush Stormy’s coat as my thoughts drift.
Sometimes I think it’s a blessing to not have distinct memories of her to haunt me. Sometimes it bothers me more that I don’t have anything to remember her by, besides what pictures and stories Allison has shared with me. That breaks my heart.
A tear slides down my face as grief begins to pull me under. Feeling this pain while standing in the barn my mother’s family built, the one she loved with all her heart, is making it hurt even more.
I wish she were here. I wish I could talk to her about Marcela, ask her what’s the right thing to do. Ask her how I can move forward with my life without disappointing Dad or myself. My sister always told me how Dad was different when our mother was still alive, and I wish I could’ve seen that version of him.
Part of me doesn’t blame him for being the way he is now, because if I lost Marcela the way my dad lost our mom? I’d be a fucking mess too. I’d just hope I wouldn’t become a shell of a person I once was, channeling all my energy into pushing my son into something he doesn’t love just to fulfill a dream I never got to accomplish.
Stormy nuzzles her nose against me, making me smile faintly as the tears continue to slide down my cheeks.
“Thanks, Stormy.” I sniffle.
“Theo, are you okay?” Allison’s voice startles me, making me jump back from the horse as I begin wiping at my cheeks.
“Oh yeah, why?”
She narrows her brows at me as she crosses her arms over her body. “Because you’re crying and talking to a horse.”
“I …” I begin trying to make some sort of joke, and fail as a heavy pressure sits on my chest. It’s hard to breathe when my mind races.
My lip trembles as more tears threaten to break free, and all it takes is the look on my sister’s face to send me over the edge.
I’m barely aware of what’s going on when Allison wraps her arms around me while I cry into her shoulder.
“Hey,” she says gently. “It’s okay. I know the holidays are hard sometimes, but we have each other. Always remember that.”
I nod, but can’t form any words as I continue to let out what feels like years of pent-up feelings.
Allison strokes my back until I eventually calm down.
We take a seat on a bale of hay outside the stalls, and she looks at me with concern. “Theo, what’s going on?”
I never told Allison any of this before, because I know she wouldn’t have rested until I talked to Dad and figured it out. Back then, I was too afraid of facing him, but now that my life is about to change next year with the draft, I find myself wanting to tell her.
I can’t keep this in anymore, and talking to Allison about it might help me come up with a plan to tell my dad. She knows him better than I do.
“I hate football,” I whisper, my words barely audible. The entire barn seems to stand still in the aftermath of my revelation.
“Oh, Theo,” her voice breaks. “Why haven’t you ever said anything?”
“You know how Dad is with me. Everything’s about football. My whole life has been about making me into the perfect athlete. It’s all he wants for me. How can I take that away from him after so much already has been? His career? Mom?” My words come out almost frantic, feeling despair wash over me because I have no idea how to stop feeling like this.
“Theo …” she says, her voice filled with sorrow. “Yes, Dad has been through a lot, but you need to think about yourself. What about your feelings? What about your life? Not to be morbid, but Dad will be gone one day, and then what? You’ll have just lived in misery?”
“It’s so hard,” I say with a tremor in my voice, “I don’t want to disappoint him.”
“I know Dad is tough on you, but you won’t know how he’ll react if you never tell him how you really feel. I think he might surprise you. He’s not that bad, you know? He’s incessant with the football thing, but he does care about you. About all of us. We’re all he has left, and I think he’d rather you be happy over anything,” she says, her voice soft and comforting.
“I don’t know, Ally. It just feels easier to go along with his plan, play for a few years and then retire,” I sigh.
My head and my heart are at war, because in my heart, I know Ally’s right. It’s what I want to do. In my head though, I want to do everything I can to not disappoint my dad any more than he already has been.
“And waste your time being unhappy? If mom’s death teaches you anything, it’s that a long life isn’t guaranteed. Go after what makes you happy everyday because you never know when it’ll be your last.”
The fear of telling my dad seems to always annihilate my own needs.
“I just don’t know how I’ll tell him.”
“Tell me what?” my dad’s voice pierces through the cold night air. My next breath halts in my lungs as I look up to find him standing in the doorway.
Fuck. How long has he been there? Did he hear our conversation?
Neither of us says anything as our dad stares at us with curiosity. “That girl of yours pregnant or something?”
“No, and her name is Marcela,” I grit my teeth, not liking the attitude attached to his tone.
He throws his hands up in defense. “Just asking, son.You never know with these girls.”
“She’s not like that,” Ally defends her as she stands up. “I’m going to go read a story to Mason before bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
As she stands, she catches my eye and mouths good luck .
Yeah, I’m gonna need it.
My dad leans against the barn door, crossing one foot over the other. “What is it, Theo?”
I inhale deeply, keeping my eyes on the floor as I gather up the courage to blow up my entire life.
My head slowly rises, my light-blue eyes meeting his own. “I hate football.”
Relief briefly floods my system at finally saying those words to him, followed by panic because of the unknown of what will happen next.
My dad stares at me for what feels like a long time, and then he scoffs. “You’re the best quarterback this sport has seen in years. No one who is as good as you can hate what they do.”
“Call me the first, then,” I reply as I look up at him. “I’m good, because I wanted to make you happy. Playing is your dream, not mine. It’s the only reason I’ve worked this hard, despite how much I hated doing it. I only did it for you, because you had already experienced so much loss and I didn’t want to be another thing on the list.”
He puts a hand up. “Don’t.”
“Why not, Dad?” I stand as anger begins to simmer below the surface. “Mom passed away nearly twenty years ago, and we never talk about her. It fucking sucks and it’s not fair. I’m—”
“I said don’t ,” he shouts, his face turning red.
I shake my head, knowing that if I continue he’ll just shut down, and I don’t have it in me to fight with him. “Fine, but maybe you should talk to someone else about her then.”
“Why don’t we talk about this football thing? What are you saying, son?” he asks, ignoring my last comment.
I’d been debating what I wanted to do for a long time, but right now, only one thing comes to mind. I’d been afraid in the past because I didn’t want to disappoint my father, but I’m tired of keeping up a pretense.
My whole life I’ve done what he’s wanted, but I can’t keep playing this game. It doesn’t bring me joy and my body is tired. I’m tired of always being exhausted and not being able to do the things I like. I want to be able to eat whatever I want and not care about working it off.
I want to just be me without the pressure of meeting someone else’s expectations.
“I’m going to finish the season, and then I’m done,” I tell him. “I won’t be entering the draft. I’m not going to play the game ever again after this season.”
My dad’s face twists with anger as he throws his hand out in frustration.
“You’re just going to throw it all away? You could play ten years in the league, become a world-renowned champion and be set for life. You’re an idiot if you give up now and waste what we’ve worked for.”
“That’s exactly it. Dad, it’s not we. I had to get up early to train for hours. I had to give up things I love because I didn’t have time to do them, or I was too fucking exhausted to do them. You’ve decided my entire life for me and I’m done being miserable,” I shout, unable to contain myself anymore. He’s made a lot of sacrifices so I could play, but does that make my misery worth it? “Maybe I’ll take over the farm, that way you can find something you actually love, because I know it’s not this. We both deserve to be happy.”
The idea had been floating around in my head since Marcela and I visited for Thanksgiving, when she pointed out how happy and peaceful I seemed here. And the more I sat with the idea, the more I saw how it made sense for me. How much I wanted that.
“Theo, I’ve already been in talks with the Denver Lions. They want to draft you. Don’t make me look like a fool.” I don’t miss how he ignores what I said about working here at the farm.
“No, Dad. I’m not doing it. I’ve already wasted so much of my time doing this for you. It’s time I live my life for me ,” my voice drops as I speak quietly. “That’s what Mom would want.”
When I look over at my dad, I notice something I’ve never seen before. A tear rolls down his face and he immediately brushes it off.
I take a step toward him. “Dad … I … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I need a minute,” he snaps, turning to face away from me.
I walk to him and place a hand on his bunched-up shoulder, but he shrugs me off. I brush away the sting at him doing that and say, “It’s okay to be sad over her. I’d be a mess too if I lost the love of my life. But please stop using me to deal with your grief. I can’t do it anymore.”
With that, I make my way out of the barn and toward the house, a mix of feelings surging through me. Relief for finally telling him and Allison. Confusion, because I have no idea what the hell is going to happen now. Hurt, because I feel bad for my dad.
I can only hope that in time he’ll come to respect the choice I made, and maybe without football and if he can forgive me for choosing myself. And we can finally work towards building a normal relationship.
I’ve already lost one parent. I really don’t want to lose another.
“Ahhh!” Mason squeals excitedly as he rips off the blue penguin-themed wrapping paper on the gift I got him.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting on the floor next to him.
“It’s a race track!” he says once the paper is all ripped off. “Thank you, Uncle Teo.”
“You’re welcome, Sunny boy,” I hug him to me, internally thanking my sister for giving us this ball of sunshine. Opening gifts is the perfect buffer after the shit show we had last night.
I passed out as soon as I hit my bed. Despite the tension that now exists between my dad and me, I got the best sleep because of the weight that was no longer on my chest.
I haven’t had a chance to fill Ally in on what happened. But by the way she keeps glancing between the two of us from her loveseat, coffee cup in hand and a disappointed look on her face, I’m assuming she’s guessed how it went.
The rest of the morning is painfully awkward, with my dad and me exchanging as few words as possible. I spend the rest of the morning watching the magic of Christmas unfold for my nephew, as we enjoy our big breakfast before I help build the race track I got for him.
As Mason plays, I take a moment to pull out my phone and snap a picture of me smiling with the Christmas tree in the background to send to Marcela.
Me
Merry Christmas, Celly! How was last night?
Celly
Merry Christmas, Theo! It was good, we got home around one after Misa de Gallo church service and had a huge dinner. And then my mom made us put out our shoes for El Nino Dios.
Me
That sounds like so much fun and I hope you got to sleep in after the late night. If you had dinner last night though, what is your family doing today?
Celly
I did and I’m still exhausted, which is unfortunate because the Bass side is coming over. It’s going to be a long night.
Me
I hope you enjoy it the best that you can. Did your mom like the set of olive-themed salt and pepper shakers I got her?
Celly
She loved it. Thank you, you didn’t need to do that.
She sends another text before I can reply.
Celly
How is your day going?
Me
Just spectacular!
Celly
What happened?
I have a love-hate relationship with how well this girl knows me. My thumbs fly over the keyboard as I decide honesty is my new policy from now on.
Me
I broke down in the barn, my sister found me and I ended up confessing how much I hated football and how much I missed our mom. My dad walked in on us, and demanded to know what I was hiding. So I did, and it went about as well as I expected.
Celly
Oh, Theo…I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come over or do you want to come here? You know my mom won’t mind at all.
Me
I appreciate the invite but I don’t want to intrude. I’m going to still try and enjoy time with my sister and nephew. But then I’m leaving first thing in the morning.
Also how’s it going at your place?
I redirect the conversation because I don’t want to spend another second thinking about how I blew up my life and what will come next.
Celly
Okay, if you need anything you can text or call me anytime. And it’s going surprisingly well, but it’s still early in the day, I’m not keeping my hopes up.
Me
Call me later and we can talk about it?
Celly
Yes, I’ll text you when I’m free.