34. Party Time Decisions Have Consequences
34
Party Time Decisions Have Consequences
Football is, after all, a wonderful way to get rid of your aggressions without going to jail for it.
-Woody Hayes
Dylan
“Let me tell you, having four hundred pounds of man on top of you is not that pleasant.” I laughed, but my heart wasn’t in the story. Luckily, none of the guests seemed to notice. They all chuckled and smiled, giving the appropriate party etiquette laughs.
“I don’t know, I think I could learn to live with it,” one of the ladies in a low-cut red dress said with a laugh. I noticed her husband took the glass of wine away from her.
“There you are, Callahan,” Coach said, coming up behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder. “The owners wanted to have a word with you.”
I swallowed hard, but smiled and nodded at the rich guests who were donating lots of money to a children’s charity. They had moved onto another conversation before I had even taken a step.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” Coach said, walking beside me. “I know you had other plans, but I do appreciate this. It’s for a good cause.”
I looked around at the banners proclaiming that all the money donated would go to fighting children’s cancer. If I had known that, I would have volunteered. I didn’t want to think about Ellie having anything worse than a stuffy nose. I could only imagine the pain that would cause both me and Natalie.
I winced.
I wouldn’t have cared a month ago. Not really. I always cared about kids, but it wouldn’t have been personal. Apparently having kids changed things.
The ballroom was packed with glittering gowns, perfectly tailored suits, and more champagne glasses than I could count. Coach and I weaved through the party guests, and I stayed away from the champagne. I straightened the lapels of my tux, feeling out of place, like a linebacker at a ballet recital.
“Hey, there’s our star tight end!”
I turned at the sound of the voice and made myself find my calm. I really wished I had a glass of champagne now. It was the owners of the team. The ones who signed my checks, controlled my future, and could ship me off to some other team whenever they felt like it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Clarence,” I said, shaking Mr. Clarence’s hand with just enough grip to seem manly but not enough to shatter his fingers. Mrs. Clarence, of course, went in for a hug, and I managed not to drop my nonalcoholic drink.
“Look at you all dressed up! I hardly recognize you without a helmet on,” Mrs. Clarence laughed, her eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. “I keep telling my husband we need to host more events like this just so we can see our players looking civilized for once.”
“Oh, you mean not in uniform?’” I joked. “Or just not covered in mud?”
“I like the mud,” the woman in the red dress called out.
“We really liked seeing you play this week,” Mrs. Clarence said, ignoring the other woman.
Mr. Clarence chuckled and clapped me on the back. “Exactly. You’re doing well, son. Really well.”
My throat went dry. I had no idea where this conversation was going, but I knew it was important. Owners don’t make small talk with their players unless there’s something big coming. They hadn’t asked me here tonight because they wanted to hear my bad jokes. I braced myself for the worst.
“We wanted to talk to you, actually,” Mr. Clarence continued, his tone suddenly serious. “There’s been a lot of chatter, as you probably know, about trades. Especially with your contract situation coming up.”
I nodded, trying to look casual. Inside, I was anything but. I’d heard the rumors. Hell, I’d lived the rumors, every time I walked into the locker room and caught guys whispering about who was going where. The NFL is a business, and loyalty is just a nice word they print on t-shirts. Beside me, Coach tensed.
“We’ve been watching you,” Mrs. Clarence said, her voice softer, like she was trying to put me at ease. “We see the work you’ve been putting in. Not just on the field, but off it. The leadership, the attitude... you’re a big part of this team. Coach has been telling us all the extra you’ve been doing the past couple of weeks.”
I swallowed hard. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“And it’s obvious you want to be here,” Mr. Clarence added. “That’s important to us.”
Okay, now they had my full attention. They weren’t talking like people who were about to hand me a plane ticket to some other city. This was… different.
“We started this franchise with a vision,” Mrs. Clarence continued. “A vision for the future. Our kids are going to inherit this team one day. They’re too young to understand it now, but we’re building something we want them to be proud of. A legacy.”
“And you’re a part of that,” Mr. Clarence finished. “You belong here. You’ve earned your place. We’re not trading you, son.”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. No trade. I wasn’t getting shipped off to some random team, some random city where I’d have to start all over again. Relief washed over me so hard, I almost hugged them both, but I figured Mrs. Clarence might not appreciate my drink being spilled down her dress since my hands were shaking so hard.
“We want our children to grow up knowing they’re part of something bigger,” Mrs. Clarence said, glancing at her husband. “And that’s what you’re helping us do. We’re proud of what we’re building, and you’re going to be a big part of it.”
I smiled a real smile, not the half-hearted one I gave reporters when they asked the same questions after every game. “I’m proud to be a part of it, too.”
As they moved on to mingle with other guests, I stood there, letting it all sink in. I wasn’t going anywhere. I had a place, a future.
“Good job,” Coach said. “You’ve made it.”
And then, like a blitz from nowhere, it hit me.
This was exactly the kind of conversation I’d been waiting for, wasn’t it? The reassurance that I wasn’t just a replaceable piece of machinery, that I was valued. And I hadn’t even realized how much that mattered until now. But the truth was, I wanted that kind of certainty somewhere else in my life, too.
My girls. Natalie and Ellie.
They were the kind of certainty that I wanted. They were the only things I wanted.
I had been acting like there was always more time, like I’d eventually get around to telling her how I felt. But there was never time, not in this life. We only had this one chance. If I didn’t take it, it would be gone forever.
If I could stand here in a room full of billionaires and tell them I was all in for their legacy, I could damn well tell the woman I loved how I felt about her. That I wanted to raise our daughter together. That I wanted to have more children with her. That I wanted to give her every dream she could ever want and make sure she always knew how much I loved her. That I wanted to grow old with her and never spend a day without seeing her smile.
How much I just wanted to be with her.
I downed the rest of my drink, set the glass on a tray, and came up with a plan. Time to stop being a coward.
I needed to make things right. I pulled out my phone, ready to make some calls.
Then, in true football fashion, I fumbled my phone, dropped it, and almost knocked over a waiter trying to pick it up.
Yeah. This was off to a great start.