Chapter 35 #2
I huff out a laugh. “I haven’t managed it, exactly.
More like, I’ve survived it. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone because I’m a quarterback, and having a clear head is kind of a job requirement.
It felt like if I admitted it to anyone associated with the team, then maybe they wouldn’t want me anymore.
And yeah,” I say when my mom just looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “I realize how dumb that sounds, and you’re probably conjuring a lecture in your head about toxic masculinity and how I’m playing right into the stigmas surrounding men’s mental health, especially in professional sports, and how I should be better than that. ”
She grins, patting me on the hand in the most condescending way imaginable. “I tried my absolute hardest to raise a non-asshole man who understands healthy communication, can accurately name an emotion, and takes responsibility for his own mental health. I've mostly succeeded.”
“I take responsibility for my mental health,” I mumble, avoiding eye contact with her because I just got finished admitting to myself that I have done no such thing.
“Are you sure you don’t just think you have, when in fact what you’ve done is rely on your best friend turned love of your life to keep your mental health in check?”
I stare at her, her words playing over and over in my brain. “Are you magic?”
She laughs, bumping her shoulder with mine. “I just see you, Tyler, mostly because I was you when I was your age. When I met your dad, I was held together by anxiety and caffeine, sure I was doing an excellent job of managing it all when I was, in fact, a complete mess.”
“A gorgeous mess,” my dad says, reaching across me to take her hand.
“Obviously,” she says with a grin before turning back to me.
“I’m your mom, Ty. I know you better than anyone, and I’ve watched you with Sophie since you guys were kids.
You’ve been caring for each other since you fell off your bike when you were six years old and she insisted on putting the Band-Aid on your knee herself, and you speak a language only the two of you understand.
I think you lean on each other in a lot of ways, and most of them are beautiful, but sometimes having someone to lean on isn’t enough.
” She glances over at my dad, and the look she gives him is so full of love it makes my chest ache all over again.
“I had your dad to lean on, and I couldn’t have figured myself out without him, but I also needed other tools in my toolbox, and so do you. ”
“I know.” I sigh, shoving a hand through my hair. “I’ll talk to Maddy and have her recommend a therapist I can see more regularly. I’m sure she knows someone.”
“No doubt,” my dad says. “And I know a lot of the league is still total shit when it comes to players’ mental health, but the Renegades aren’t like that. Brian hired Maddy because he understands that healthy brains are as important as healthy bodies in this sport. They’ll support you completely.”
“I know. And I know it’s stupid to have kept this from everyone.”
My mom shrugs. “I mean, should you have told us? Definitely yes. But also, you’ve always been a crap liar, and I’m a really, really good mom.
I knew what was going on when you started opening and closing your hands while you were standing around on the field.
Why you can’t stay still. Anxiety has tells, Tyler, and you’ve got them all. ”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
She shrugs. “I’m not in the habit of explaining a grown man’s feelings to him, even if that man is my own child.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s cold, Julie Parker. Ice fucking cold.”
She smiles, unbothered. “If you were an anxious kid, I would have intervened in two seconds flat, but you were a full-blown adult by the time this started, one fully capable of asking for the help you needed.”
I snort out a laugh, and it lifts some of the heaviness that has settled on my shoulders since Sophie has been away. “Well, congratulations, you win. I have now asked for help.”
“But have you?” my dad asks with a grin. “I think you didn’t ask so much as you had a panic attack in our basement, which forced you to come clean. Want to tell us what started that delightful little interlude I walked in on?”
With a sigh, I bring my knees to my chest, hands dangling between my legs.
“I miss Sophie. She’s only gone for three days, and I miss her so fucking much I can’t even stand it.
What if she decides to take the job in San Francisco and this is my life now?
Me here and her out there, existing on text messages and video calls and visits only when we can swing them in between two crazy busy schedules?
What if we never get to spend birthday night together again?
We’ve spent eighteen birthdays in exactly the same way, and we’re supposed to be together tonight but we can’t be because she’s there and I’m here and that feels wrong. So fucking wrong.”
“So why aren’t you there?” my dad asks. “It’s the offseason. It’s not like you have practice or games or anything. There wasn’t anything stopping you from taking this trip with her so you guys could be together for your birthdays.”
His question smashes into my brain like the Hulk because why the fuck aren’t I there? I’ve been so fixated on her not being here for birthday night where we always celebrated it that it literally never occurred to me that I could just be there.
Intensely stupid, party of one.
“Birthday night is here in the backyard,” I say, sounding so fucking lame, even to my own ears.
The look my dad gives me says, clearly, I do not claim this idiotic human as my own and may god have mercy on his soul.
“If your mom was on the moon for her birthday, I would buy a spaceship and beam myself up there to be with her. I wouldn’t care if we had celebrated a hundred birthdays in the exact same place.
There is literally no place on earth she could be where I wouldn’t go to her.
For her birthday or any other time.” I open my mouth to say…
I’m not sure exactly what, but it doesn’t matter because my dad’s on a roll.
“And come to think of it, what’s stopping you from moving to California with Soph if that’s where she decides she needs to be?
If what Gabe says is true, this job is a massive opportunity for her, and there’s a very real possibility she takes it.
If being in California is what’s best for her, isn’t that what’s best for you too?
You can love her from anywhere, but in my experience, it’s way better to love your person where they are.
Being together is always better than being apart. ”
This I actually do have an answer to. “I have a contract with the Renegades with five more years on it. A contract that says I need to be here. A team that’s counting on me. A legacy to continue. I can’t just leave.”
“Can’t you?” my dad asks. “First of all, legacy is a stupid word. Whose legacy? If it’s yours, then let me tell you, also from experience, that the best legacy you can have is to find the person you love more than anything and anyone in the world and love her as hard as you can for as long as you can.
And if you’re talking about my legacy, you could decide right now that you never want to throw another football as long as you live and I wouldn’t give one single shit.
All I care about is that you’re happy. Right now, you’re sitting on the floor of my basement half an hour removed from a massive panic attack, and nothing about that screams happy to me.
As for the contract, you don’t think if you went to Brian and told him his niece is the love of your life and you need to be wherever she is, he wouldn’t let you out of it?
He would understand completely because no one loves his wife more than Brian loves Olivia.
Except me,” he adds, winking at my mom. “I love your mom more than anyone has ever loved anyone.”
“Not more than I love Sophie,” I say immediately, feeling the truth of the words right down to my bones.
My dad shrugs, breezily. “I don’t know, Ty.
Sophie is out in California on her birthday, being a total freaking badass and probably accepting the job of a lifetime, and you’re here talking to me about contracts and legacies.
That doesn’t sound like the behavior of someone who’s trying to earn his address in Simp Town. ”
My dad’s words hit me and I sit up straight, my shoulders squaring as I look him right in the eye.
“I’m the mayor of Simp Town. The governor.
The goddamn president of the United States of fucking Simp Town.
” And I am. Suddenly, sitting here on the floor of the basement, it’s all so clear I want to slap myself across the face.
Of course I should have gotten on the plane with Sophie yesterday, and if she needs to be in California, I’ll drive the goddamn moving truck myself with my stuff inside it, right next to hers.
Because nothing else matters but that I’m right next to her.
Not where we live. Not football. And definitely not any kind of legacy, because the only legacy I want is the one I make with her.
The one where we build a life and a home and have kids and a family and as much love as we can fit into a lifetime. An eternity.
Because eternity is what I want with her.
I just need to get to her first.
“Shit,” I mutter, diving for my phone on the floor by the weights and unlocking it, stabbing the button for my web browser while doing rapid calculations to figure out what the hell time it is in San Francisco right now.
Are they six hours behind, or does it take six hours to get there and they’re three hours behind?
Or are they ahead? You would think someone who travels as much as I do would be able to figure this out, but fuck time zones, honestly. They shouldn’t be a thing.
“What are you doing?” my mom asks, the smile on her face telling me she knows exactly what’s happening right now.
“Booking a flight,” I say, my eyes never leaving the screen. “I need to get to San Francisco, and it has to be before eleven tonight. I’m spending birthday night with my girl.”
“Yeah you are!” my dad says with a grin, looking over my shoulder.
“Fuck,” I say, scanning the options, my heart sinking into my stomach.
“There’s nothing that will get me there in time.
Wait!” I exclaim, opening a new tab. “I can charter a jet. That’s a thing people do, right?
Shit, why am I not the fancy kind of athlete who knows how to do this kind of thing?
” I mutter, scrolling through the search results, wondering if maybe Drew has a plane I can borrow.
He owns all kinds of weird shit he never talks about.
I wouldn’t put it past him to have gotten into aviation without telling anyone.
“Because you’re a non-asshole,” my mom says, picking up her phone and tapping at the screen.
The look on her face has relief pouring through me because she has her I’ve got it handled face on.
When Julie Parker has the I’ve got it handled face, she could single-handedly fight a war, or bring on world peace, depending on her particular mood at the time.
She kicks so much ass and gets all the shit done.
“Gabe, is the plane in Pittsburgh?” she asks, pressing the phone to her ear.
“Great. Tyler needs to borrow it for a couple days.” She pauses, laughing at whatever Gabe says on the other line.
“Yeah, he needs to go profess his undying love to Sophie and tell her he’ll follow her anywhere.
He was an idiot for a second, but he seems to have made a remarkable recovery.
Oh, hey, Mol,” she says with a grin. “Yeah, I don’t know what he was thinking either, but we’re all good now, and I think he might be about to out-Asher Asher. ”
“No one out-Ashers Asher,” my dad mutters.
“I’ll let him know,” my mom says with a laugh. “Love you, Mol. And thanks, Gabe.”
She ends the call and turns to me. “Allegheny County Airport, one hour,” she tells me.
“Gabe wants me to tell you not to fuck this up or you’re on the hook for the cost of the flight, and Molly says this year’s cupcake better be the best one you’ve ever made because apparently Sophie is miserable without you. ”
“Sophie told her that?” I ask, my stomach twisting, because I never want her to be miserable. Sophie should always, always, always be happy. I make a vow here and now that from this moment on she will be. I’ll make it my goddamn mission in life.
My mom rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Molly just knows. Why do you all think we don’t know anything? We’re moms and we’re women. We know every damn thing, and you all are just along for the ride.”
“Fuck, Juliette, you’re sexy when you’re going all, we ride at dawn.” My dad pulls her into his lap and kisses her neck, and that’s absolutely my cue to get the fuck out of here.
“Thank you,” I say, dropping a kiss on my mom’s head and squeezing my dad’s shoulder. “Thank Molly and Gabe for me, too.”
My mom takes my hand, kissing the top of it. “No thanks necessary. Just be happy, Tyler. And make Sophie happy too. Be happy together. That’s all any of us want for you.”
“Count on it,” I call, jogging up the stairs and making one quick detour before heading to the front door, my brain spinning with plans and excitement humming in my veins as each step I take gets me closer to my girl and the most epic birthday night of all time.
I hope you’re ready, Soph, I think with a grin.
It’s so fucking on.