Chapter 28
Vee
On Wednesday morning, I went out to the practice field as the offensive practice was about to begin. The players were entering the field in their practice jerseys. Even Troy was there, seated on the sidelines in street clothes.
“It’s good to see you,” I said, sitting near him.
“You too, Ms. Maeve. I’m sorry about getting hurt.”
“Troy, we’re sorry. The O line is sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Nodding, he looked out onto the field.
I followed his line of vision. “You have nothing to be concerned about. Number-one position is yours once you’re healed.”
“I don’t need to be out four weeks.”
I scooted closer. “It’s the player’s cap. If you weren’t on the IR, we couldn’t hire Cody back.”
Troy grinned. “He called me when his agent got the offer. Cody’s a good guy.”
I looked up in time to see Fin jogging in full gear, coming from the facility carrying his helmet.
While my chest ached at seeing him, I was happy to see he was cleared to practice in full pads.
That meant the trainers thought he was healed enough to play on Sunday.
He glanced our way and immediately turned toward the other players.
Troy nodded toward my notes in my hand. “If you want any help with that, I’m free.”
My grin returned. “Thanks, Troy. I would like that very much.”
Troy was at my side during Wednesday morning and afternoon practice as well as Thursday morning practice. I’d tell him what I thought had been called and what was played. He’d either correct me or let me know I was correct.
“The players think you’re pretty cool, Ms. Maeve. You’re working hard and we respect that.”
“Thanks,” I said with a sigh. “Sometimes it’s nice to hear encouragement.”
“You’ve got it from us.”
Thursday afternoon, I let Drew know I would leave practice early. My dad scheduled our flight to leave before the team’s. He had plans with the CEO and controlling owner of the Broncos. Daphne was nothing but talk about the outfit she’d bought.
Sitting in the middle of the Hubbard Gulfstream, I had Drew’s playbook and notes in front of me when to my surprise, Lip and Grant entered the plane.
I waited until they saw me. Lip’s eyes lit up.
He widened his stride and made his way to the four-person seating around the table, taking the seat across from me.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said.
“It was a last-minute decision.”
Grant stood at our side.
Looking around, I realized Lip and I were taking the two outer seats. My tote was in the seat to my side. “Do you want to sit?”
Grant shook his head and gestured toward the front. “I can sit over there.”
“We can make room,” Lip said.
“Vee, are you going to stand on the sidelines Sunday?” Grant asked.
My neck straightened. “Yes.”
His head shook almost imperceptibly. If it weren’t for the way his light hair moved, I might have missed it.
I lifted my tote and scooted to the side. “Grant, you’re welcome to sit here, and I’ll explain what I’ve learned.”
“Jesus, Vee. I understand play calls. You’d think you’d just secured a million-dollar grant. It’s not rocket science.”
Inhaling, I turned my attention to my other cousin.
Lip reached across the table and took both my hands in his. Turning to Grant, he said, “Go suck up to Uncle Reid. I see him and Daphne on the tarmac.”
Without another word, Grant walked away. He settled on a chair facing forward. My chair was the same direction. We were separated by a partial wall.
“Mr. Phillip and Ms. Maeve,” Susan, one of our regular hosts said. “We have roughly four hours until landing. Mr. Hubbard asked for a light salad. I believe he and Mrs. Hubbard have dinner plans once we arrive.”
While our flight was four hours, with the time difference, we’d only be two hours ahead when we landed.
“I’m good with a light salad,” I said. “I’d love some coffee with cream.”
Susan smiled. “Mr. Phillip.”
“Salad is fine.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ll take a Woodford and ice.”
“Right away.”
My gaze met Lip’s. “Trouble in paradise? Isn’t it early for bourbon?”
“We’re from Kentucky. It’s never too early for bourbon.” He lowered his voice. “I spoke with Leigh this morning, and it seems my favorite cousin hasn’t been very forthcoming.”
Inhaling, I pretended to be organizing my notes.
Lip’s hand again reached for mine. “Is silence the way you want to answer? If you do that, you know my imagination will run wild.”
A smile curled my lips. “You’ve always had a vivid imagination.” I spoke softer. “I’d rather other parties don’t overhear.”
Lip scrunched his nose. “We’ll wait until we take off. Grant will have his headphones on. I’m sure Aunt Daphne will be keeping Uncle Reid occupied.”
“Oh God.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s why I sat back here. She never shuts up.”
“Hello,” Daphne called to the entire plane as she and Dad boarded. “Oh good. It looks like we’re all here.” She waved her hand. “Susan, dear. I’d like a rum and Diet Coke before we take off.”
“Right away, Mrs. Hubbard.”
Lip’s and my eyes met and we both began to laugh.
It felt good to laugh. I hadn’t done much of that since Fin’s visit. Last night, I’d broken down and called Leigh. She was one of the few who knew Fin’s and my past. Or I thought she did. I thought I did. Last night we met at the Vine Club, and I filled her in on his side of the story.
She listened without judging—part of what I loved about my cousin. It was when I recounted what Fin said about my picture in his locker that I felt the gut punch. He’d asked me if I’d listened to every word. I had. I was able to repeat them.
At the same time, I hadn’t—listened, not really.
It was Leigh who commented. “He told you he loved you.”
“He’d told me that before.”
“He’s telling you now,” Leigh had said.
Seeing Lip across the table from me brought Leigh’s observation back. “Did Leigh tell you what he said?” I whispered.
Susan returned with Lip’s bourbon and my coffee.
“She told me,” he said, before swirling the barrel-shaped ice cube. “She told me about his parents’ house too.” He leaned closer. “That was some mean shit.”
“I agree. What upsets me more is that he thought it was true. Once he learned who I was, who I hadn’t told him I was, he believed I thought less of him and his parents. I’m not sure I can forgive him.”
“Has he forgiven you?”
The playbook blurred before me. Swallowing back the tears, I shrugged. “Neither of us said we were sorry. Neither forgave.”
Lip pressed his lips together.
We were at cruising altitude when Lip asked, “What do you want, Vee?”
“I lived fourteen years without Griffin Graham. I’d given up on a future with him.”
“So, you’re saying you’re fine with the way you two left things?”
I shook my head. “I’m not fine.”