1. Connor
CONNOR
“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant announces.
Johnson—now my brother-in-law—reaches for Grace, who moves to meet him. They seal the deal with the kiss.
Happily ever after.
They actually have a chance at that, since they’re fucking perfect for each other. Grace’s sweet nature is fully matched by Johnson’s devoted, “I’ll do anything for the people I love” character.
Grace must have claimed my chunk of the Battle family “kindness” quotient, because it’s not a trait I would claim myself.
Their kiss is accompanied by a chorus of celebratory shouts from Johnson’s closest friends on the Waves, for which he plays quarterback. Even more team members will attend the reception at a nearby lakefront mansion later.
Filling out the Waves contingent, my brothers are up here with me as part of the wedding party. Landon, the best man, and Rawley, a groomsman like me.
Finally, the newlyweds break apart. “Let’s all congratulate Johnson and Grace on their marriage, as they leave as husband and wife,” the officiant proclaims.
Grace is beaming as she quickly pivots to each of us brothers, one by one. Landon cries happily while Rawley wears a shit-eating grin with no tears.
And me, the youngest, I give her a genuine smile, truly happy for my big sister. One of the only people on the planet I care about.
It’s been just the four of us for years. Yeah, our parents are still around, but they have failed to earn the title of “family” by any measure.
When they got divorced, I was only in fifth grade. From there on, Landon and Grace took care of Rawley and me like they were the adults, even though they were only in high school.
So while my parents are here today, it’s no surprise they’re not up here in the wedding party, but instead seated with the guests, far apart from each other.
“Well, that was awesome,” Rawley observes as Grace and Johnson walk down the aisle.
“It was everything Grace deserved,” I agree.
“C’mon, we’re supposed to follow them,” Landon directs us.
“Yeah, I want to see the car all decked out,” Rawley responds.
We shuffle down the aisle, with guests trickling behind us.
When we stream outside, the newlywed couple are approaching a white convertible.
The side of the car visible has a bunch of writing—sayings like “QB1’s Biggest Play” and “Got My Goldie For Good.” “Goldie” has been Johnson’s nickname for Grace since they began secretly dating three years ago, and not going to lie, I’m impressed by whoever nailed the alliteration on that one.
My sister gently tugs on Johnson’s arm and whispers something in his ear, prompting him to stop. They turn around and wave as all the guests cheer and applaud. After that moment, Johnson holds the door open for Grace before they drive off.
“What a perfect ceremony,” Johnson’s sister Lainie says behind me.
“It was,” their mom, Pam, agrees. “I have no doubt the reception is going to be wonderful too. The sitter is bringing Leo there?”
Lainie nods. Lainie’s daughter—Johnson’s niece—Emma was the flower girl during the ceremony, but her son Leo is younger, so it makes sense they didn’t have him here.
“The whole team will be at the reception, or at least anyone who didn’t have plans already for the Fourth,” Rawley adds.
Grace and Johnson got engaged three years ago, and my sister had fretted about the wedding date because of their schedules.
When she ended up in contention for the US Olympics track team last summer, they punted it to this year. They ended up picking Fourth of July weekend since so many friends and family were in their off-season or had long weekends off.
The lakefront mansion hosting the reception could accommodate more people than the church. So they invited a new wave of guests to the reception only, though they knew some would bow out because of other plans for the holiday.
“Well, let’s get a move on,” Pam says. “I want to make sure Grace doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
Rawley leans over to me. “I wonder who is going to show, given the holiday weekend?”
I know one person who will be there, and I can’t fucking wait to see her.
Johnson’s family jumps in Rawley’s car to hitch a ride to the reception, and Landon takes Dad and the officiant.
“Con, can you pull up the directions on GPS?” Rawley asks.
I’m not shocked he didn’t organize them in advance, but I decide not to give him crap about that. Not today.
“Sure, one sec.” Once they’re loaded, I set my phone on the console where he can see it.
“Oh shi—” He stops, considering the company in the car. “Shoot. Did you gas up the car beforehand or something? I totally forgot, but we have three-quarters of the tank left.”
“I did.” The least I could do to make sure today went off okay. I barely have any responsibilities, as it turns out.
“Thanks, that’s huge.” Not really, but I don’t object out loud.
Once we’re on the road, Pam leans in from the back to chat with Rawley and me, while Lainie talks quietly with Emma beside her.
“So Connor, how does it feel to be a college grad?” she asks. “I’m sure it’s great to live in the same town as your siblings.”
Her tone is warm, and I know from Grace that Pam is the opposite of our mother—genuine and supportive. I try to respond in equal measure.
“It’s nice, and yes, it feels like Orlando’s been my second home during all of college, so it’s good to make it official.”
“The baby of the family, all grown up,” Rawley teases.
I roll my eyes at him, but underneath the surface, my chest squeezes. Because I don’t feel grown up, as much as I’d like to be.
I pivoted two years ago to the Princeton football team, at the start of my junior year.
Despite that, my pro football playing career seems as hopeless as my soccer dreams did.
Like footprints in beach sand during a hurricane, my pathway to the NFL all but disappeared when no teams invited me to their rookie minicamps this summer, even as an undrafted free agent.
It fucking sucks. So much for all those lessons from Del, which had continued every previous summer through last year. Not to mention the practice sessions I kept up on my own after my last Princeton season ended, until it became clear no minicamp invites were going to materialize.
Instead, I’m spending this coming year interning for Grace and her boss Milo, a business manager for elite soccer players, at his company Sports Life Planning, Inc. (SLP, as he calls it), while I debate my long-term plan.
An unpaid internship—one that doesn’t pay any bills. So I’m still dependent on my family.
Our sibling motto is “Better Together,” meaning we’re a united front and always have each other’s backs. Only here I am, leaning on my big sister for my internship, relying on my brothers for places to crash and money—not helping any of them be “better.”
Instead, I’m taking handouts. Handouts much bigger than remembering to fill up a tank of gas.
Rawley doesn’t know I’m struggling, though—no one does—so he’s got no sense that his quip stings.
Lainie interrupts my pity party with a question to my brother. “Wait, how is your mom getting to the reception? I didn’t see her?”
Pam clears her throat. “I took care of that with the wedding planner. We had a car service scheduled for their mom and some other family on her side.”
From that response, I can tell Johnson’s mom has been privy to accounts from Grace about our “challenging” mother.
“Pam, you’re the GOAT,” Rawley says sincerely.
He’s not wrong. Even Pam is helping your siblings more than you.
Anxiety threads through me until we get to the mansion, when I put on my game face. Time to entertain Grace’s guests like a good brother.
Most of them will have little in common with me, or be as awkward at small talk as I am.
But one of them…one of them is her.