21. Touchdown
Touchdown
W atching oneself on camera was… odd. What was with her eyebrows? Was her voice really that high pitched?
Sitting in her nautical gray office with its crisp white trim, navy blue curtains, and whitewashed antique desk, she rechecked the video for the umpteenth time.
The footage seemed to have been taken forever ago, but it hadn’t even been two months.
Eventually, she would be posting the creation of her home office, highlighting how she chose both light and dark blues to accent the gray, with a splash of salmon to jazz it up.
She would include how to choose exactly the right desk considering style and purpose and ergonomics, then adding a closet organization system to keep it neat, and a plush white couch with coordinating patchwork quilt from the local farmer’s market for brainstorming.
She closed her eyes and let the wave of anxious thrill buzzing in her skull tease down and out through her fingertips. Stomping it out, she took a deep breath and hovered over the submit button. Three, two… oh just fricking click.
Done .
Running her hands through her hair, she stepped back and watched as her video went public on YouTube. Vlog episode number one: A New Day .
She wanted to walk away and call it good. Wasn’t that enough? Her limbs were heavy from the emotional exhaustion of putting herself out there, but she wasn’t really out there until others knew about it.
Routing back to her website, she completed the post, the link, and sent the announcement over the big bad internet. And then her newsletter. And then social media. All of them.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Patricia? That was a first. I’m watching my new favorite YouTube star.
Way to go Patricia. That was actually thoughtful and rather maternal. Maybe she wouldn’t be such a terrible grandma. Not that Haley was planning on helping her with that anytime soon.
Scary, thrilling, but freaking awesome. She was officially expanding her business, taking steps to maintain a respectable income. Haley strolled down the stairs, refusing to stare at the screen all day for follows and likes. They would come. Or they wouldn’t. Either way, she was out there.
Reaching the bottom step, she turned and faced the great room. Buttery tan leather sofa, natural wool fiber rug, wood-stump glass coffee table, iron and reclaimed wood accents. Next, throw blankets and wall hangings and candles to warm it up. Not bad. Hopefully her viewers would appreciate it.
Her phone buzzed again. Like a fool, she juggled it out of her pocket, nearly dropping it. Not Finn. Why wouldn’t he call?
Dumbass. Of course he wouldn’t. Ball was in her possession.
She knew she couldn’t call him yet. For them both, she needed to stand on her own two feet first. For him, he had to believe he was on his own. He had a tough career decision, and she wanted him to make the choice for him, not stay here because of her.
Gnawing on her cheek, she opened the text from Claire. Girls night?
A flutter of panic pounded at her ribs.
Nope. Done. She closed her eyes and pushed away the fear. The past was exactly that, behind her.
Yes. Please. I have this beautiful new room and haven’t gotten to show it off. Want to have it here? She held her breath, hoping.
I’m in!
Within the hour, Haley’s home was overrun with carefree laughter. Trace brought wine, Pippa brought pizza, Freya brought a massive salad, and Sophie brought Trivial Pursuit.
When had she ever gotten to play board games? And no one exchanged sex tips. Not that they weren’t open and goofy about that sort of thing, but they were very possessive, lovingly so.
Except Trace. While the others moved to the next square in the game, Trace grabbed the next bottle of wine for refills. Something was up with her. Her smile was genuine, but subdued.
“Hey, you okay?”
Nodding, Trace smiled. “I’m great. Really.”
“Great might be an overstatement. You’re fine, not great.”
Trace nudged her in the side, then leaned back against the kitchen counter. “And this is why I haven’t had a good girlfriend since you. And why I’m never giving you up again. I have a great phony smile; everyone falls for it.”
“I’ve worn it myself too many times to count. What gives?”
Trace wrapped her hands around her middle, but her expression was strong, her lips twitching at the corners as she considered giving in to a genuine smile.
“I confess, I am a little lonely in this crowd. Love these women, but, well you’ve all fallen head over heels for guys that adore you.
I’d hoped for that with Finn, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Now don’t start again. As I said before, what he and I had was fine, but I want more than fine .
I want to be all fluttery, sap-happy, emotionally tied and miserable like you people. ”
Snorting, Haley felt a tug pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I think that sums it up.”
“What if Finn takes one of these coaching jobs? Or even ends up some sportscaster?”
Haley snagged the bottle from Trace and topped off her glass. “You know I’m never giving everything up for someone else again. Been there, done that. But I’ve also never fought for anyone, nor had anyone fight so hard for me. I have a plan.”
“Oh my. She has a plan. Scary thing when Haley has a plan.”
“Oh shove off. What about you? You going to be okay?”
“Of course. I love you and fully support you. But let me be a little self-pitying as I find my way.”
Haley set down her glass and hugged her friend. Not that phony air kiss or pat on the back or condescending crap, but a real hug that set off the waterworks.
Freya hollered from across the great room, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she landed their piece on a square. “Haley, get your ass back in here. It’s a sports question for a piece of the pie, and Pippa and I are utter failures at these.”
Pulling away, Haley grabbed the bottle and set it on the coffee table while Trace leaned against the counter and watched.
Sophie cleared her throat and read the card. She watched the room as faces contorted at the detailed factoid it would take a serious fan to know.
Haley grinned. “Nobody knows this one? Come on guys. It was Finn’s rookie year? He gave Jerry Rice a run for his money.”
Nodding with a comically serious face, Sophie added, “And your answer is?”
“My boyfriend.” She grinned and snagged the green wedge before the answer was even confirmed. From her perch in the kitchen, Trace shook her head and smiled.
The evening was a first for Haley. Laughing, joking, a hint of serious, and utterly relaxed. With no staff to take care of the clean-up, Haley started clearing as things were wrapping up. The others pitched in, and within a few minutes time, the house looked as pristine as it had a few hours prior.
She slept sprawled across the massive bed, listening to the wind rustle the branches outside her window. The sun took its time rising in the distance, its subtle glow brightening her bedroom as her eyes fluttered open.
Hopping out of bed, she took an extra-long shower, then tossed on a favorite pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt, and low boots, looking forward to fall so she could wear her knee-highs again. Dashing upstairs, she grabbed her notebook and set up at the kitchen island for coffee and a light breakfast.
Within the hour, she had finalized her ideas and drove to the Halseth’s home. Scott greeted her as she arrived, still working on his coffee, as he’d been working overtime at the pub in Finn’s absence. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he said, smiling over his mug.
“I am.” She nodded, unsure what he was getting at.
“You know Finn’s not home yet, right?”
“I didn’t think so, but I haven’t talked to him. I’m here for you, actually.” She held up her notebook. “I thought I’d drop off a few ideas, unless you have time to go over it together?”
“That was fast. Come on in.”
He poured her another cup of coffee and she laid out her ideas at the dining table.
Together, they rearranged a few things, adding a few framed jerseys on the walls, adjusting colors and furniture placement.
Knowing his stash of memorabilia was impressive, she added a wall of shelves with baskets to store his favorites that didn’t make the cut to display, but could easily be brought out to show off or reminisce.
Wrapping it up, she closed her notebook. “I’ll put in some orders and be back in a few days to snap some befores and start bringing things over?”
“Absolutely. I… Finn gets back tonight. You, uh, haven’t talked to him at all, huh?”
“No, I wanted to give him the space to decide what he wants.”
Scott chuckled, rising to his feet. “We’ve got something in common there. He’s been so complacent since he got back, I’m not sure even he knows what he wants.”
“That’s why you encouraged him to go to all the interviews?”
“Yeah. Don’t want him to have any regrets. I didn’t make the cut to go pro like he did, but I don’t think I could function without football in my life.” Scott refilled his coffee, bringing the mug up to his lips, the steam spiraling around his face as he took a steady sip.
“And you don’t think he’d be happy tending bar for the rest of his life?”
“Halseth’s was Brenda’s dream. I liked it well enough, but I needed more.
Coaching Finn’s teams when he was a kid, then staying on with the high school, that’s been the light of my life.
Aside from my family, of course.” He paused, leaning up against the counter.
“Finn would make a hell of a coach, commentator, whatever he wants to do. But I know he’d be happier playing than anything.
His knee has been pretty good lately. I’ve seen him sneak onto the high school field to run drills when no one’s around.
I was good. Finn is gifted. Shame he’ll never play competitively again. ”
Haley stood from the chair and loaded the notebook back into her purse, hooking the bag over her shoulder. “Not competitively, but what about recreationally?”