Chapter 27
Vee
My play call list nearly shredded with my intense grip as Coopers’ training staff helped Fin into the blue tent.
In my ear, Drew was calling the play to Simpson.
On the field, our players were lined up in split formation at the thirty-two-yard line.
Simpson had the ball. He handed it off to Morgan, who dodged defensive players and made it to the twenty-six-yard line.
While my attention was on the field, I couldn’t help watching the blue tent. The flap was still closed. “Please be okay,” I said softly.
Back on the field, Simpson had the ball. He was dancing behind the line of scrimmage. The ball was in the air. Patel caught the ball while dragging his toes before being pushed out of bounds. Whistles blew.
The tension in my neck reminded me of Fin’s stress-relief methods from last night.
“Unnecessary roughness. Defense. Number 94. Fifteen-yard penalty. The ball will be placed at the sixteen-yard line. First down.”
The crowd inside Allegiant Stadium booed loudly, unhappy with the call. I watched the jumbotron for the replay. Patel’s feet were both down and in bounds when number 94 plowed him to the ground out of bounds.
Clenching my jaw, I tried not to show my disgust. The Raiders were playing dirty. For once, I was happy to hear the whistles.
It took six more plays to score.
Touchdown Coopers.
When I turned, I saw Fin sitting on the bench and let out a relieved breath.
If he was not in the locker room, that meant he didn’t require further medical attention.
Hopefully, he’d be put back in the game after the Raiders’ possession.
I looked up at the clock. Our time of possession was over eight minutes.
And we came out of it with seven points.
I clapped as our defense took the field.
Our defense nearly intercepted a long pass. I held my breath waiting for a pass interference call. While the receiver clearly wanted one, the officials didn’t comply. The Raiders were third and six. My nails carved half-moons into my palms as I clenched my fists.
The ball was snapped.
Johnson, one of our cornerbacks, ran around the line of scrimmage for a sack.
Raiders’ time of possession was only two minutes. They had no choice but to punt.
My smile couldn’t be restrained when I saw Fin putting on his helmet. He was back in the game. By halftime we were up 10–3. I wasn’t ready to celebrate quite yet.
The Raiders came out of halftime with a boulder on their shoulders.
They had first possession, which resulted in another field goal.
The score was now 10–6. Fin continued as quarterback.
Hearing the play call in my headset, I realized I was watching not just Fin, but anticipating who he would give the ball to, and if it would be a handoff or a pass play.
In the fourth quarter, we had the ball in the red zone, with a first and goal from the four-yard line. The Raiders’ defense was solid. They stopped us on the first, second, and third downs. Drew called for the kicking team to go out onto the field.
Fin shouted at the offense. I couldn’t hear, but from what I could see, he was telling them to stay. I could only hear Drew’s voice. I squinted my eyes at the tirade he was screaming at Fin.
Fin huddled the offense.
Drew withdrew the kicking team.
Our offense lined up. The Raiders’ defense was tight.
Fin handed the ball to Bennett. The defense swarmed.
The official’s arms went up, indicating a touchdown, but I didn’t understand how. Bennett had been stopped.
“Oh my God.” It was a quarterback scramble.
Fin hadn’t handed the ball off.
Bennett’s fake deserved an Oscar nomination. I looked up at the jumbotron to see Fin tucking the ball and running wide around the line of scrimmage. The Coopers’ players on the sideline and field were celebrating.
The extra point attempt was blocked. The Coopers were up 16–6 with less than five minutes remaining. The Raiders had possession of the ball. Their quarterback’s passes were on point. In less than two minutes, with multiple first downs they were to our four-yard line.
Coach Brown sent in Wood, our 6 feet, 1 inch and 210-pound nickelback. In my ear, Brown was screaming at Lester, the Coopers’ linebacker. I checked my play sheet, not as familiar with defense as offense. Our defensive coordinator was calling for a 5-man rush.
The ball was snapped.
Our defense lunged forward. Wood found the gap and tackled Williams. The Raiders’ quarterback was sacked again.
They were now second and goal on the eleven-yard line.
The Raiders’ offense lined up again with no-huddle offense.
Williams handed off the ball. Their fullback ran nearly to the goal line. It was more progress than Brown wanted.
The call was third and inches.
There was time for one more play before the two-minute warning.
The Raiders’ scored.
At the two-minute warning, we were still ahead, but only by three points. A touchdown would beat us. A field goal would tie.
Fin and the offense were back on the field.
I didn’t take a full breath until the final buzzer.
While each team had a possession during the final two minutes, neither team scored.
The final score was 16–13; Coopers won. Not only was it a win, but the Coopers scored sixteen points against a team that on average only gave up 4. 4 points a game.
“Great game,” I said to the players as they headed into the locker room.
“Thanks, Ms. Maeve.”
When I turned toward the field, I watched Fin with his helmet in hand, speaking with a reporter. A smile tugged at my lips. His hair was a mess, and he had a few scratches and bruises from the battle, but in my opinion, he was still the most handsome man on the field and beyond.
“Ms. Hubbard.”
I turned to find a camera in my face. I lifted my hand and tucked my face down. “Speak to the players. They won the game.”
“Just one question.”
I shook my head as someone tugged on my arm. It was Virginia.
“Ms. Hubbard, we need to go now.”
My pulse was rapid as she walked me off the field down the tunnel toward the locker rooms. We didn’t stop until she walked me past the locker room and other reporters. They shouted questions, but my ears were buzzing too loudly to hear their words.
When we came to a stop, I tried to hide the fact that I was trembling. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“It’s my job,” she said with a smile. “Let’s get you up to the suite. Someone from the Raiders’ organization showed me a back elevator.”
The giant void Dad left came back with gut-wrenching speed. I hadn’t thought about him during the game. Now it was as if I’d just learned of his death. I shook my head. I didn’t want to face the family, not yet. “I’d like to go to the plane.”
“I’ll call for a car.”
Once we were in the car, I sent a text message to Leigh.
“I’M HEADED TO THE PLANE. WE’LL LEAVE AS SOON AS EVERYONE GETS THERE. THANKS FOR PASSING ON THIS MESSAGE.”
Leigh replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
My temples throbbed and my skin felt tight as I worked to contain the sudden onset of emotion. After thanking Virginia again for her help, I climbed the steps to the Gulfstream and was met by Susan and our pilot, Tony.
“Welcome, Ms. Hubbard. Congratulations on the win. Will the others be arriving soon?”
The win. I was losing my mind. I’d forgotten about the win. “Others? Oh, coming. I hope so.” Carrying my leather bag, I made my way back to the four-person table.
Susan came closer. “I was about to convert the table into a bed for Mrs. Hubbard. We won’t arrive in Lexington until about one in the morning. She likes to sleep.”
“You know what? The recliners recline. There’s no sense in having one passenger monopolize seating for four. We have eight passengers on this trip.”
Her eyes opened wider. “Are you sure?”
I pulled my laptop from my bag and placed it on the table. “I’m certain. I’d also like a cosmo, please.”
“Right away.”
Since Fin’s relaxation methods couldn’t help me through this flight, I chose alcohol.
It wouldn’t clear my head, but it just might keep me sane.
Anyway, it was more than likely the rest of the family had been imbibing throughout the game.
I’d only swallowed my first sip of the tart, fruity cocktail when through the window I watched two cars approaching the plane on the tarmac.
“Susan, may I have a second before takeoff?”
“Sure thing, Ms. Hubbard.”
The stem of the second cocktail glass was in my fingers as the clangor of voices filled the cabin. Daphne stopped in her tracks. “Susan, where’s the bed?”
I lifted my glass in a toasting motion. “Good game. Daphne, we have eight people on this flight. I decided a four-person space didn’t need to be reserved for only one person. Enjoy a recliner.”
“Ah. I…” She stammered as she looked around, truly puzzled.
Leigh, Hayden, and Lip were all smiles as they joined me at the table. “What did you think of the game?” I asked, my bout of mourning safely subdued.
“It was great,” Lip replied. “We not only won, but we also beat the spread.”
Hayden said, “The most any team has scored on the Raiders this season was seven points. The Coopers scored sixteen.”
Leigh tilted her head. “Will that be Fin’s last game?”
The reminder filled me with mixed emotions. He was safer on the bench. However, I knew how much this season has meant to him, especially after last year’s in LA. “It will be his last game to start, assuming Dennison stays healthy.”
Grant appeared next to the table. “With Dennison healthy, we should consider letting either Graham or Simpson go.”
The vodka in my cosmo was racing through my circulation, fueling my response. “It’s not on the table.”
He shook his head dismissively.
I lowered my half-filled glass to the table and looked pointedly at Grant. “If Dennison would God-forbid be injured again, then I suppose you would want us to rehire the QB we let go, at an even higher price?”
He shrugged. “It’s something to think about. Dennison won’t get hurt again.” He walked away as Susan announced that Tony was ready to take off.
“You can be kind of fierce,” Lip whispered.
“What I am is pissed. Let’s make it through Tuesday’s service and after that, all bets are off.” I swallowed the remainder of my cosmo and handed my empty glass to Susan. “I’m going to need dinner before another one of those.”
She nodded. “As soon as we’re at cruising altitude.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, she brought a basket of dinner rolls and sat them in the middle of the table with a wink.
“You’re the best, Susan.” Turning to those around the table, I said, “There’s no buffet on the sideline.”