GRANT #2
“Yeah. I started it when I was on a travel team. I wanted to keep track of all the places where we played, and it followed me to adulthood.” She holds up one of the matchbooks that has a martini on the front.
When she opens it, each match is sitting in a holder that looks like a bottle of alcohol. “Now I try to find unique designs.”
“Do you do anything with the matchbooks?”
“I have a large glass jar in my home office where I keep all of them.” Amelia pulls out her phone and taps through her photos. “I’m not great with interior design, but I like how they look. They’re also a great conversation starter.”
“That’s awesome, Lia. I’ll keep my eyes peeled when I’m on the road next season and see if I can find any cool ones to add to your collection.”
“Do you collect anything?”
“No, but I do have a tradition after every season. I frame our team photo and put it on my shelf.” We move to the next table, and I touch a tarnished picture frame that will be perfect.
I hand over cash to the vendor, smiling when he tucks it safely in a bag.
“Five years in the league, and we all look totally different. I don’t recognize myself in those rookie photos. ”
“Do you have a favorite teammate?” Amelia asks.
“Do you have a favorite player you coach?”
“No,” she says without hesitation, but she takes a second to think about it. “Okay, yes. But it’s only because they work the hardest and put in effort not everyone else does. I don’t allow myself to treat them any differently.”
“I love all the guys I play with, but there’s a smaller group of us who are closer than the rest. Now, with Riley’s accident and everything…
It’s hitting me that we’ll never have that lineup again.
Sure, we’ll find someone to fill the spot, but it won’t be the same.
And in a couple of years, Maverick will retire.
He and Emmy want to start a family. Hudson and Liam are the next oldest on the team, and I think this is the beginning of the end.
Soon it’s just going to be me, Ethan, and Connor. It’s sad to think about.”
“The end is inevitable. Nothing can last forever, and all you can do is savor the moments you have left.”
I hold that tight to my chest as the sun starts to set and we head back to my car. We drive east with the windows down. Amelia’s hair blows in the wind, and she relaxes as we leave the city behind.
“Where are we?” She cranes her neck then looks at her phone. “We aren’t near your apartment, are we?”
“Nope. Welcome to Wolf Trap. It’s the only national park dedicated to the performing arts.”
“Whoa. It’s gorgeous! Look at the trees! Are we just driving through, or is there a band playing tonight?”
“There is a band playing tonight.” I fight off a smile. “This is your surprise.”
I navigate to the VIP parking area and flash the badge I purchased last night. It’s one of the only times I’ve name-dropped myself, and the mild arrogance is going to be worth it to see Amelia happy.
“A band,” she says, walking beside me across the grass and taking in the crowd. “Who a lot of people my age like.”
“That is correct.”
“I see Doc Martens and belts that I wore in high school, so I’m guessing this band has been around for longer than a few years.”
“You’re getting warmer,” I say when we get close to the entrance. “Any guesses?”
“No, but I—” Amelia gasps. She whips her head away from the sign attached to the facade to stare at me. Eyes wide, mouth parted. “You’re joking. There’s no way we’re about to see Dashboard Confessional right now.”
“I’d never lie to you.”
“But you—when did… how did you even know I liked them?”
“Lucky guess.” I leave out the part where she was blasting their music when she picked me up from the airport in Denver.
She hummed along to the songs on the drive back to her place and has one of their playlists saved as a favorite.
“We’ve been inside the last week, and I figured this was a good way to send you off.
” I put a hand on her arm, stopping her in place.
“I know I’ve said it already, but I’m so grateful for you, Lia.
Thank you for bringing me back to the light during one of the darkest times of my life. Thank you for being my friend.”
“Grant.” She rests a palm on my chest. Her fingers twist my shirt, holding it in her grip.
“I’m not glad that Riley got hurt, but I am glad we got to spend so much time together.
You’re one of my favorite people in the world.
” Her words turn softer, a murmur like she’s keeping a secret.
“I’d spend a hundred days in a row with you if I could. ”
“Me too.” I cover her hand with mine. “Wait until you see our seats.”
The VIP box is tucked away from the crowd.
It’s the perfect place to enjoy the music without feeling like we’re on display.
The band comes out, and Amelia shouts the lyrics to every chorus like it’s 2003.
She jumps up and down. She sings along. She doesn’t have a care in the world, and it’s the most beautiful she’s ever been.
I run out to grab a plate of fries when she says she’s hungry.
Back in the box, she rests her head on my shoulder.
She sways along to a slower song I don’t know, but want to learn.
It’s perfect. Everything with Amelia is always perfect, but having her here like this—lighthearted, sunburnt, and laughing hysterically—is the pinnacle.
How do things get better than this?
By the end of the night, I’m exhausted. My throat hurts from singing. My feet are killing me, but I don’t care. Amelia sits in the passenger seat with a cheek-splitting smile on her face, and all is right in the world.
“This was the best day of my life.” She reaches across the center console to touch my shoulder. Her eyes shut and her breathing slows, but she keeps her hand on me. “Thank you, Grant.”
I nod, happy too.
This was the best day of my life too, but that’s not surprising.
Every day with her is the best day of my life, and it’s going to hurt like hell when she’s gone.