Chapter 22
Vee
Dennison was the topic of Monday morning’s executive meeting.
The debate centered on if he would be put on the IR and kept off the field for a four-week minimum.
“It’s not only the concussion,” Dad said.
“The neck sprain is a concern. He came down hard on his spine. His helmet hit Packard’s first and then the ground. ”
“Have we thought any more about calling back Simpson?” I asked.
Uncle Darin lifted his eyes from the papers before him. “It’s on the table, Vee.”
“Are you trying to push Fin out?” Grant asked.
“This isn’t about Graham,” I replied. “It’s about the Coopers having depth on the bench. Heaven forbid Fin meets the same fate as Troy.” Speaking the scenario filled me with dread.
“Vee is right,” Aunt Rachel said. “Darin and I spent hours looking at available quarterbacks. While we could get one or two cheaper, the issue is practice and knowing the plays. Cody Simpson knows our playbook. He’s familiar with our coaches, and they’re familiar with him.”
Uncle Darin exhaled. “His agent knows he has us over a barrel. Simpson isn’t returning for the same salary we had him on before.”
The entire table turned to Dad.
My father laid his hands on the table’s surface and sighed.
“Darin, talk to Cody’s agent. Get a price and a timeline.
Bring it to me. We need a backup by next Sunday.
” He moved his green gaze around to each member of the committee.
“We have five more games before our bye. If it will make Dennison healthier for playoffs, I think he should be on the IR.”
“No,” Grant replied. “You want to put the first half of the season in an old man’s hands.”
I spun my face toward my cousin. “Excuse me. Weren’t you the one who advocated for Griffin Graham?”
“As backup. As a mentor. In their short time together, the plan worked.” He lifted his eyebrows. “I’m sure you saw that during your observation.”
“Vee?” Dad asked.
“Troy and Fin worked out after each practice. Drew said the two would even work out on Tuesdays. I know Fin was concerned about Troy and spoke to him after the news conferences yesterday.”
“How do you know that?” Grant asked.
I straightened my shoulders and used my most even tone. “He told me.”
“Griffin told you?”
“Yes.” I turned back to Dad. “If Dennison is on the IR, Simpson’s re-signing is priceless.” I tried to read his expression. “This season is on the line.” My volume rose. “And we’ve only played one regular season game. Dennison will heal and when he does—”
“We’ll have two overpaid backup quarterbacks,” Uncle Darin interjected.
The ensuing discussion was quickly squelched by my father.
“While I appreciate your knowledge and input in the matter” —the room quieted— “as sole owner, the decision is mine. Darin, talk to Simpson’s agent immediately.
Once I have the numbers, I’ll talk with Royce and decide.
Any further business?” When no one responded, he added, “Meeting adjourned.”
As I gathered my things, Dad said, “Vee, stay for a minute.”
Nodding, I set my tablet and papers on the table.
As I waited for others to leave, I secured the button-lined large cuffs on my long-sleeved blouse.
While it was summer, the sleeves themselves were sheer.
I chose the blouse for the long cuffs, which covered my bruised wrists.
Once the door was closed, Dad leaned forward.
“Do you remember what I said a few weeks ago?”
Though I searched within the recesses of my mind, I shook my head. “It’s been a busy first month of the season.”
“I told you that you and Grant would be working together in the future. I also said that while Grant is essential in communication, he also has a good mind for the football side of the business. That is changing. Drew is very impressed with what you’ve learned in football operations.
Yet, I stand by my word; you have the heart of the Coopers as your main concern.
What do you think your grandfather would do in this situation? ”
“I think he’d do everything he could to re-sign Cody Simpson.”
Dad smiled. “You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t defer to Royce.” He nodded. “I like that. Now, what if the numbers don’t compute?”
I shook my head. “How much are we talking, Dad? How much is too much to give the bench some depth. Listen, I was against signing Fin, especially with the higher salary Royce insisted we offer. I can admit I was wrong. Griffin Graham is a valuable addition to the Coopers. I was also right in the fact that Fin is thirty-six, nearly thirty-seven years old. If a game is going well, let him rest and have a quarterback who is ready to jump in on day one.”
“If Fin gets hurt?” Dad asked.
“We’re fucked. Talk to Drew, get the O line ready to protect him under all circumstances.” I fought a smile remembering Fin saying he’d been hit by big men.
My dad nodded. “As I said, Drew said you’re a quick learner. Did you hear anything interesting with the earpiece?”
Would I be throwing Fin under the bus to tell Dad what he did?
Does Dad already know?
Is this a test?
“I heard Drew call a run play,” I said. “While both backs were available, Fin went to the pass option.”
Dad nodded. “What do you think about that? Insubordination?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “I think the reason Royce was willing to pay for Griffin Graham was because he brings more to the team than a throwing arm. Fin has experience. He read the defense and determined that neither back would succeed in a first down. If that happened—we’d been stopped—we would have had to punt to Tennessee.
They would have gotten the ball back. Their defense was expecting our run game.
Fin read it correctly and made the right adjustment.
” I almost added that I told him so but stopped myself.
Dad stood, scooting back his chair. “I’m proud of you, Vee. You remind me more and more of your grandfather every day.”
Something I’d buried in the overload of my recent new workload came back to me. “Grant made a comment about a change to your will. Uncle Darin told him and Lip the team was to be divided three ways.”
Dad took a deep breath. “That’s not completely accurate.”
“Kind of accurate?” I asked.
“I never understood why my father cut Rachel out of team ownership. It’s why I’ve always included her and Darin.”
“Are you worried that I won’t include Uncle Darin, Grant, and Lip?”
“Should I be?”
I met Dad’s green stare. “Grant is a never-ending thorn in my side, but no. Each one of the people around this table has specific knowledge that’s necessary to keep the Coopers successful. They all have a stake in the franchise.”
“Don’t you think that stake should be as part owners?”
I didn’t honestly know how to answer.
I’d always assumed it would be me.
Dad went on, “I was thinking you would have fifty-one percent; Darin, Rachel, Grant, Phillip, and Leigh would divide thirty-nine percent.”
I narrowed my gaze. “That only equals ninety percent.”
“Vee, Daphne wants a stake in the team.”
My stomach dropped. “Daphne?”
“I haven’t met with the attorneys yet. Any changes in succession can wait until after this season.”
“Daphne,” I said again, “has never been the least bit interested in being a working member of the executive committee. Her biggest decision is what to wear on game day.” My volume rose. “Hell, Dad, she doesn’t know offense from defense.”
“This is premature,” Dad said, lifting his things from the table. “We’ll discuss it after the Coopers win the Super Bowl.”
“I would never push out family.” Daphne, on the other hand, wasn’t my family. She’d had over twenty years to rectify that and didn’t.
He smiled. “I know that, sweetheart.”
Walking back to my office, I felt the uncomfortable itch, one you couldn’t scratch, regarding our conversation.
It had gotten under my skin in a way I didn’t fully understand.
I’d never taken the time to consider why Grandpa Carroll hadn’t given Rachel an equal share of the Coopers.
He’d given her equal financial compensation, but the team was left completely to my father, Reid Hubbard.
I remembered Dad saying he often wished he could walk into his office and find Grandpa behind the desk to ask his father questions.
Was my grandfather misogynistic?
Did he not split the team because he didn’t think his daughter was as good for the team as his son?
Was Dad having the same concerns because of my gender?
Those and more questions were swirling through my head as I made my way back to my office. I had the rest of today and tomorrow to catch up on a week’s work and prepare for next week before spending Wednesday and Thursday with Drew and the offense.
“We miss you around here,” Jen said as I entered her office.
“I miss you.”
“I saw you on the jumbotron on Sunday. It didn’t look like you were missing us.”
“Oh,” I said, “that reminds me. I need to speak to someone in broadcasting. I don’t want to be on the jumbotron. You aren’t the first person to mention that. My presence on the sidelines is no big deal.”
“Too late.” Jen brought me a physical copy of the Lexington Herald. “Look at this article, right next to the one about Troy Dennison and the win pulled off by Griffin Graham.”
The title was COOPERS’ HEIRESS CALLING THE PLAYS.
“Shit. Shit.” I turned to Jen. “I’m serious.
I do not want to be on the screen again.
And for the record, I’m not calling plays.
I’m trying to understand them.” I walked toward my office.
“Can you also call for lunch? I don’t care what.
I want to spend this afternoon locked in here, wading through emails and everything else I’ve missed. ”
“Sure thing.” She shrugged. “I thought the article was kind of cool. Women are proud of you.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank you. While that’s nice, I don’t want to take anything away from the team. They deserve the headlines.”