14. Football Isn’t Easy
14
Football Isn’t Easy
What do you call a person who walks back and forth screaming one minute, then sits down weeping uncontrollably the next?
A coach.
Dylan
“Callahan, get your ass off my field! You’re done for the day!”
Sweat dripped down my forehead and back. Every inch of me was hot and sweaty, and not in the good way. I could already smell myself in the summer heat. I really needed to stop eating onions at lunch. My wrist surprisingly, didn’t ache though, so that was a bonus.
“Get off the field, Callahan,” Marcus snapped at me when I didn’t immediately move. I did a double take, surprised at the anger in his voice, but decided that punching him was not the best play for the day. I’d already dropped the last three passes. I’d misread the last two plays and only managed to get into a halfway decent position by the skin of my teeth.
It was not my best day. In fact, it might have been my worst day.
“Switch out Callahan!” Coach yelled from the sidelines. Reluctantly, I left the field, but I felt like I made it look like it was my choice and not Marcus’s.
“Hey man, don’t sweat it,” Cameron said between slurps of water at the coolers. He dumped a paper cup filled with water over his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, spraying droplets of water everywhere in the summer sun. “Marcus is in a bad mood. He got dumped last night.”
“Sandra left him?” I asked, sipping on the water. It wasn’t cold anymore. It hadn’t been since lunch. I didn’t want it cold anyway, it went down easier if it was lukewarm.
“Sandra?” Cameron barked a laugh. “She left his ass weeks ago. You’re behind, man.”
I shrugged. It had been weeks since Marcus had said a full sentence to me. I still didn’t know what had him so pissed off, but since he was pretending to be five years old and giving me the silent treatment, I wasn’t going to find out. Besides, I had problems of my own. I didn’t dare tell Marcus or Cameron about Ellie.
Even though I really wanted to tell them. These men were my teammates. My family. We’d shared blood, sweat, and tears.
But I didn’t dare share with them about Ellie. I couldn’t risk it.
All it would take was one stray word to one reporter up on that hill watching us practice and my life would devolve into legal fees and media circus. Given that I was barely holding onto my position on the team, that was the last thing I could afford to do. If even a hint of this reached the team owners, they’d boot me faster than I could run a touchdown.
“Hey man.” Cameron caught my eye. “You doing okay? You look beat.”
I wished I could tell the tight end that I hadn’t slept more than two hours in row because of my daughter. The words hung in my mouth, but I couldn’t get them out.
“My wrist,” I mumbled.
“That sucks.” Cameron tossed his paper cup into the trashcan. “That was a shitty break.”
He had no idea how true that statement was.
He gave me a nod, bumping his chin in Coach’s direction. I sighed but headed to where Coach stood watching the scrimmage with a scowl.
“You gonna figure out how to catch a ball again?”
I wished my shoulders didn’t slump when he said it. I wished that I had a better answer than “my wrist hurts” or worse, the quiet fear that I was going to get tackled and feel that snap again.
“Callahan, you have talent.” Coach uncrossed his arms and put one hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to waste it on whatever nonsense is happening right now. I don’t know why you and Marcus aren’t talking, but it isn’t good for the team.”
“He started it,” I snapped before I realized I sounded like a four-year-old. Man, I was tired.
Coach’s eyebrows raised. “And I’ll make sure to tell his mommy. Fix it. Fix it before the next game or I won’t be able to save you with medical.”
I nodded. “Yes, Coach.”
“Now get that wrist iced. I want you here early tomorrow going over the routes.” He clapped my shoulder and left me to yell at the team that practice was over.
I barely listened to the closing remarks and skipped going to medical. I knew what to do better than they did. Ice, wrap, pain meds. Besides, I wanted to get home to Natalie and Ellie.
“Who’s your daddy!”
I didn’t know that it was possible for that phrase to not have a sexual connotation and still make me so damn happy.
I walked in through the front door and was greeted by two lovely ladies. Natalie wore comfortable looking sweatpants with a t-shirt proclaiming that she donated blood around Halloween last year. Ellie was of course wearing something completely different than what I had left her in. My laundry bill this month was going to be outrageous. How the hell did someone so small make so much mess? She didn’t even eat food, yet somehow she stained multiple outfits a day with it.
Natalie handed Ellie over to me with a giggle and a grin. I asked her to stay for dinner, which she accepted. We had a routine now. I would come home, we would have small talk about the baby, we would eat dinner, and then she would leave me with the baby for the evening. In the morning, she would take the baby and I would head off to practice. So far, it had worked wonderfully.
Not bad for three days. I was killing this parenting thing.
“Would you mind if I finished the episode?” Natalie asked, pointing to the TV after we finished dinner. “It’s only supposed to be another ten minutes.”
“Not at all.”
In fact, I liked it when Natalie was over. It wasn’t just that I felt more comfortable with her around because of the baby, but I liked her. She had a quick sense of humor and nothing seemed to phase her. She took everything in stride, staying calm and collected even when the baby was puking everywhere and the goat was eating my shoes. She just would take a breath and fix things.
Natalie flashed me a grin as she settled into the couch with Ellie in her lap to finish her show. I did the dishes in the kitchen, smiling as I worked. It felt domestic and just right for us to be like this.
I was definitely growing fond of her. The future didn’t feel so frightening when I thought of her in it. Which was dumb, because once I established paternity, I would be hiring a nanny. Probably. The adoption idea was still in the back of my mind. I’d been killing this parenting thing for three days, but that didn’t mean I was good at it. If I lost my position on the team, I wasn’t sure I deserved to be a father.
Suddenly, a very naked woman dominated the TV screen, her lovely breasts on full display.
“Cover her eyes!” I shrieked, leaping over the couch and covering Ellie’s eyes.
Natalie just laughed. “You realize that she’s supposed to be drinking from a boob, right?”
I kept my hands over Ellie’s face. “It’s inappropriate.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow. “You know she doesn’t have any distance vision yet, right? She can barely see past our faces when we hold her.”
“Seriously?” I let my hands drop. “Does that mean she needs glasses?”
Natalie shook her head. “No, it’s normal. She’s perfect.” She smiled at the baby and Ellie cooed with delight at the attention.
“Well, I still think you should monitor her TV habits better,” I chastised as the scene came to an end and the credits began to roll. Ellie didn’t give two shits what was going on but I felt a little overprotective. The looming feeling that someday this would be important and these big decisions were coming down the pipeline lay heavy on my shoulders. How the hell was I supposed to make sure that she grew into a functioning adult? I wasn’t even a functioning adult at heart.
No one should trust me with a baby.
But Natalie did. She set Ellie down in the pack-and-play where she could still see me.
“You’re doing great,” she told me, moving over on the couch to give me room to sit. “So, how was work? You watch more TV?”
“It was fine. No TV today, just lots of running,” I replied, accepting the gentle teasing as I slid into the couch. My body was tired from training and it felt good to get off my feet.
She got up and went to the kitchen, bringing me back a Gatorade.
“It was hot out,” she said with a shrug. “You probably need this.”
Something deep in my chest loosened. A knot that had been tied so tight it tangled my ribs and made it hard to breathe suddenly went slack.
She was taking care of me.
It had been a long time since someone had taken care of me that wasn’t actively getting paid. Sure, Alex was my assistant and my friend, but it wasn’t the same as someone genuinely caring about my well being without being asked.
“Thanks.” I took a sip.
“I also made dinner, if that’s okay.” She chewed on her lip. “It’s not as amazing as those sandwiches, but it’s pretty good.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to complain about free food.”
She smiled, still looking a little nervous. “I’ll get you a plate.”
That’s when I realized that the house smelled delicious.
“It’s not pretty, but it tastes really good,” she assured me, handing me the plate. She was right. The food was not pretty. It was a chicken breast covered in a creamy sauce with sun-dried tomato bits. A scoop of mashed potatoes finished out the plate with a small helping of peas.
I handed Ellie to Natalie so that I could focus on the food.
And I moaned as I tried the chicken.
“This is better than the portobello sandwiches,” I informed her, stuffing another bite into my mouth. Chicken, herbs, bacon, sun-dried tomatoes all in a creamy sauce that I would have licked the plate for filled my mouth. The sauce made the perfect addition to the mashed potatoes and peas.
“What is this called? I need a recipe,” I said, forcing myself to chew and not inhale the food. This woman was a goddess. She was good with kids, goats, and could cook.
She blushed. “Marry Me Chicken.”
“Yes.” I nodded, scraping my fork on the plate to get every drop of it. “I will marry you.”
“You can marry the chicken,” she replied. “That’s how it got its name. Chicken so good you want to marry it.”
“Do you think it would want a civil ceremony or one in a church?” I was considering licking the plate.
“Elopement,” she replied, grinning as she watched me eat. “I don’t think they’d want to wear a dress or a suit.”
“Is there more?” I asked, holding up my empty plate.
Natalie beamed. “Of course. I’m so glad you like it.”
She took my plate and made me a second helping. Once again, it felt good to have someone taking care of me.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, realizing that I was not being a good host.
“Making a plate for myself too,” she replied from the kitchen. “I wanted to make sure you liked it.”
“You can cook for me any time,” I told her.
“Well, you say that...” She shook her head as she handed me my plate and sat on the couch next to me. “But this and spaghetti are about all I can reliably cook.” Apparently, we were couch eaters, and I couldn’t have been more okay with that. I liked eating on the couch. It felt familiar and less forced than the dinner table.
“I like spaghetti,” I told her. “The only thing I don’t like to eat is lima beans. Everything else is fine.”
“Lima beans?” She took a bite of her dinner. “Any reason why?”
“I had to eat them as a kid and I thought they looked like toes. Never got over it.”
“Got it.” She nodded. “No lima beans in the spaghetti.”
I made a face thinking about lima beans in spaghetti and it made her laugh.
“Thank you.” I didn’t say it just for the food or not putting lima beans in our spaghetti. I meant it for her kindness and watching my daughter and the smile she was currently giving me.
It was for being there for me when no one else in my life could be.
“You’re welcome,” she said, her voice soft and warm. She smiled at me, like she understood what I was trying to say.
Ellie started to fuss, unhappy at being left out of dinner. I didn’t know when babies started to eat food, but I had a feeling she was going to love eating when she figured it out.
“Tell me more about the team you’re playing next week,” she said, crossing her legs underneath her and watching me hold my daughter. “What are you going to do to get around that one guy?”
“That one guy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The danger guy? The guard guy?” She shrugged. “The guy who is supposed to stop you.”
“The safety.” I shook my head. She was never going to be good at this game, but I appreciated the effort. “Well, we have some plans.”
And she nodded and let me talk about work.
I changed my mind. It wasn’t the worst day ever after all.