Chapter 5
Fin
The players in the offense film room were quiet after Vee’s announcement.
Drew Pratt was speaking, but the usual vigor was absent from his voice.
Coach Garcia was present, listening and taking notes, yet saying very little.
As the mood turned more somber and a palpable uneasiness penetrated the air, Pratt turned off the video. “We need to talk.”
Every player in the room shifted in their chairs.
“I’m not sure what you’re thinking,” Pratt said. “I’d assume it’s a lot like what I’m thinking. That’s shock.” He shook his head and inhaled. “Loss. Disbelief. I spoke with Reid after the game yesterday. No one expected this.”
A few hands shot up into the air.
Pratt pointed to Ortiz, our running back. “Ms. Maeve said the season will go on. She said that’s what Mr. Hubbard would want.”
An attitude of consensus filled the room with hums.
“But who’s going to take over Reid Hubbard’s job?” Patel, our wide receiver, asked.
Pratt exhaled. “I don’t want to speculate.”
“The Coopers need to name someone,” Patel said.
Pratt looked at Garcia and back to the room of players. “From what I know, in name that will be Ms. Hubbard.”
The approving hum faded into sounds of discontent.
Pratt lifted his hand. “The Hubbards and Marshes have worked together for the best interest of the Coopers in the past. I don’t see that changing. I don’t want to add to the rumors of succession. I can only hope it’s a smooth transition.”
“Mr. Darin Marsh is the most qualified,” Young, an offensive tackle, said.
“Mrs. Rachel Marsh has been with the team longer than her husband,” Coach Garcia added in response.
“Grant Marsh has been here over eighteen years.”
Opinions were spouted around the room.
“I know,” Pratt said, quieting the noise, “we like to think that all there is to the Coopers is our part. That’s not the case, and everyone here knows that.
You know who else knows that?” He only paused for a moment.
“Every single person in the executive wing. From Darin Marsh to Maeve Hubbard, they all know what it takes to keep a team like the Coopers going strong. Our job, gentlemen, is to do as Vee asked and play the game. Play hard. You have tomorrow off to rest. Spend the day mourning this tragedy. When we meet again on Wednesday, your focus, our focus is on Vegas—on beating the Raiders.” He nodded toward where Dennison and I were sitting.
“On Wednesday, we’re welcoming Troy Dennison back to the practice field. ”
We all applauded.
Troy stood and bowed dramatically at the waist.
“And if you’re wondering about Cody Simpson, well, Sean Lester from the defensive line is officially on the IR. That means, as Cody and I discussed this morning, he’s still on the active roster.”
I leaned forward and patted Simpson’s shoulder.
“Fin will be starting Sunday in Vegas.”
As he spoke about particulars, it was as if in those few minutes, our minds could forget the loss of the Coopers owner and CEO, the loss of Vee’s father. We could remember that we were, first and foremost, teammates and players.
“Coach Tilson is waiting for us in the large film room,” Pratt said.
“Glad you’re going to be back in practice,” I said to Dennison. “I’m ready to watch you control the field.”
“Man, you’ve shown me some great moves over the last few weeks. It would be a lie if I said I’m content on the bench.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m cleared. Weights tomorrow?”
My first thought was of Vee. “I think I’m going to follow Pratt’s advice and take tomorrow to give respect to a man I never really knew.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know him either.” Dennison shrugged. “He seemed pretty cool.” We were now walking out of one room and headed to the other. “I’ve gotten to know Ms. Vee over the last few weeks.”
I clenched my jaw as the small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “And your thoughts?”
“She’s something else. If Mr. Reid named her as his successor, I wouldn’t sweat it.
I think that woman can do whatever the hell she puts her mind to.
” His smile grew. “And she’s nice, you know?
Like Grant Marsh can be an ass sometimes.
Not Vee. She knows her stuff and isn’t afraid to ask questions when she doesn’t. ”
Dennison and I joined the rest of the team and settled into chairs in the large viewing room.
“Do you know her?” Dennison asked in a whisper.
“Maeve Hubbard?” I asked, playing dumb. When Dennison nodded, I nodded back. “Yeah, I do. I agree with your assessment. Anyone who doubts her capabilities doesn’t know her.”
“Gentlemen,” Coach Tilson said. “We’re going to have an abbreviated viewing today. You kicked LA’s ass.”
All the players cheered. Everyone was supposed to be present, the fifty-three active players and the sixteen on the practice squad.
As I looked around, I realized we were down from that number.
Then I remembered Pratt telling us that Sean Lester, a defensive linebacker, was on the IR.
He was probably with the medical staff this morning as well as a few other players.
Football had a way of keeping the medical staff busy.
Less than an hour later, Coach Tilson stopped the video.
“Lunch and then position meetings. If you need to visit the trainers, make your way there before or after position meetings. Then go home. Ms. Hubbard didn’t tell you what to say if you’re questioned by a reporter because let’s face it—she’s a hell of a lot nicer than I am. ”
“Prettier too,” Simpson murmured to my side.
The players around him nodded encouragingly as I clenched my jaw.
“I’m telling you,” Coach Tilson continued, “‘no comment’ is the only fucking comment that should be recorded by any one of you. If it’s not…
If I read a comment attributed to a Coopers player, I’m coming for you.
” The room was deadly quiet. “Reid Hubbard deserves more than our best play. He deserves our respect. That respect filters down to everyone in the executive offices. Vee called all of you family. Act like it. Tonight and tomorrow are not times for you to be downtown at bars or clubs. Everything everyone in this room does during the next few days or week will be scrutinized. Don’t give anyone anything to make into a headline.
” He paused but no one raised their hand.
“Come back on Wednesday ready to work your asses off to prepare for the Raiders. They’re at 4 and 1.
Sunday won’t be a walk in the park. Who’s in? ”
“We are, Coach,” came from every player.
“Who’s in?”
Even louder yet. “We are, Coach.”
“See you Wednesday, ready to practice hard.”
As we stood, I met Simpson’s gaze. “She’s more than pretty.”
Simpson turned my direction. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
With my lips pressed together, I stared into his eyes. “I just wanted to let you know there’s more to her than looks.”
Simpson leaned back and lifted his hands. “Again, no offense.”
I stretched my fingers, resisting the desire to ball them into fists.
The irresistible urge to shove this cocky kid against the wall was almost too much to fight.
In my mind, I had Simpson pinned against the wall with my forearm to his neck.
As his face grew a darker shade of crimson, I would explain exactly who Maeve Hubbard was.
She was intelligent and fun, kind and compassionate.
Her smile lit up a room or an entire football field.
Her loyalty and dedication were without bounds.
She was stunningly beautiful whether she was waking up or dressed for a social event.
Her purpose overtook her fears. She’d never met a challenge she couldn’t conquer.
Yet she could be confident and vulnerable at the same time.
I gritted my teeth. Vee wasn’t as shallow as the word pretty.
Dennison’s shoulder bumped into mine. “Let’s go eat some lunch.” After Simpson walked away, Dennison spoke softly. “Are you all right? What was that?”
“The woman just lost her father. She doesn’t need stupid-ass comments about her looks.”
“Yeah, all right. Maybe you need to go see that new woman of yours and work out these frustrations.”
My smile returned. “I told you. I don’t have frustrations.”
“Sure.”
During lunch, no one from the executive offices entered the cafeteria. I knew, because I kept an eagle eye on the entry. My every thought was about Vee. While I’d checked my phone between meetings, I didn’t have any messages from her.
I managed to speak civilly with Simpson during the quarterback meeting. Once it was over, I didn’t waste any time making small talk as I gathered my shit together and headed out to my truck.
Once I threw my bag in the back seat, I checked my phone for the hundredth time. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of Vee’s name. The text message had arrived only a few minutes earlier.
“I’M STILL NOT DONE AT DAPHNE’S HOUSE. I’M NOT SURE WHEN I’LL BE HOME.”
I texted back.
“I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE ALONE TONIGHT.”
Her reply came immediately.
“DOES THAT MEAN YOU’LL STAY OVER AGAIN?”
“IF YOU WANT ME, I’LL GO HOME AND GET MY THINGS AND HEAD BACK TO YOUR PLACE.”
“I WANT YOU. I’LL TEXT WHEN THIS SHITTY FAMILY MEETING FINALLY ENDS.”
I considered my next text before hitting send.
“I LOVE YOU, VEE HUBBARD. (Heart emoji)
I hit send.
Instead of the smooth exit from the parking lot, there was a line of traffic forming at the front gate to the complex.
By the time I made it to the gate, I saw the reason for the delay.
There were multiple news vans, many with local call letters, but there were others from national outlets: ESPN, FOX SPORTS, and PARAMOUNT.
Reporters stood near the road, screaming questions toward the vehicles leaving.
It appeared everyone was following Coach Tilson’s orders. No one was stopping.
Thank God Vee said she was at Daphne’s house. That meant she wasn’t seeing this circus, at least not yet.