18. Bree
Bree
“You want My Husband’s Remorse, or The Suffering Wife?”
I was holding up both books, asking Mom, who already had about fifteen books piled into her little basket.
She looked at me and said, “How about both?”
“Both it is,” I said, smiling, and tossed them both in.
Gavin had gifted Mom two tickets to Romance Con, which was the very first convention of its kind for romance book lovers.
Of course, the second she got the tickets, she insisted I come along with her, though honestly, I would have offered anyway.
All day long, she looked like a little kid let loose in a toy store.
She chatted up fellow romance readers left and right, most of whom apparently had just as ravenous an appetite for books as she did, and it was like watching her find her long-lost tribe.
At one point, there was an actual, genuinely competitive debate going on about who had read the most books in a single day. The winner clocked in at thirty-eight.
Mom’s favorite writer, Ree, wasn’t there in person, which disappointed Mom a little, but we still managed to find out where her next few book signings were happening, plus a bunch of insider info nobody outside her fan club would’ve known.
The last stretch of the day was, obviously, buying books. Mom kept insisting she already had a stack at home she hadn’t even cracked open yet, but she completely lost that battle with herself. By the time we hit the last tent, she already had bags and bags of books, and she was still buying more.
I paid for the two books, my gift to her, and she looked at our bags with complete disbelief. “We bought all that?”
“We did buy all that.” I assured her with a smile.
“Oh gosh, what came over me? I need to sit somewhere and really talk about this problem I have.” she said.
I smiled. Mom could get a bit out of control when it came to romance books, but that was her only area of indulgence. And everyone deserved to pamper themselves once in a while.
She slowly walked over to the lone bench outside the last book tent, her head hung low. I joined her.
I slid next to her and held her hand. “Mom. Don’t be so hard on yourself. If you really really love something, you don’t need to apologize to anyone. Not even yourself.”
“Maybe I’m becoming a crazy old book lady.”
“Or maybe, you’re just tired and hungry.” I said. “Come on, we’re not here to sulk. What you need is some really bad food.”
“I love bad food,” she said. “Let’s keep the whole theme of overindulgence going today. Somewhere with sloppy, cheesy burgers, and very salty fries.”
We ate way too much, regretted it almost immediately on the drive over, and finally pulled into the deli parking lot to check on Dad right as the sky was turning dusky.
That’s when we spotted string lights strung up along the patio, and music drifting out from it.
“Whoa,” I said. “I was not expecting that.”
We walked in to find the most incredible setup. Cozy lighting, floor lanterns scattered everywhere, comfortable chairs arranged in a half circle, and a huge screen set up at the front. Lavi, Gavin, Dad, and Danny were all already there, waiting.
I’d known Lavi was planning to show us the first cut of the documentary tonight. I hadn’t known it was going to turn into an actual event, complete with appetizers, wine, and a full-blown screening setup.
“Here they are,” Dad said. “The ladies. And the star of the night.”
He came over and hugged me, kissed Mom on the cheek. “Did you get me a book?” he asked.
“Let me see,” Mom said. “Between Bree’s gifts and everything I bought myself, there’s about fifty-five books sitting in the trunk right now. I’m sure I can spare you one. I already know exactly which.”
“Which one?” he asked.
“Grovel Like You Mean It,” she said.
Gavin stood off to the side, smiling. Lavi looked absolutely ecstatic.
I walked over to them. “This is amazing,” I told Lavi. “You did all this?”
“Ma’am, I was busting my ass off editing all day,” Lavi said. “Ask Danny, he’ll tell you.”
Danny just nodded.
“All of this is for your husband,” Lavi said.
Gavin was smiling.
“So this is why the Rom Con tickets showed up,” I said, looking at Gavin.
“Well,” Gavin said, “I’ll admit I’ve had my eye on getting your mom those tickets for a while now. I wanted Lauren to go. But if you’re asking whether that was the only reason, no. I wanted this too.”
“Can I get you a glass of wine, Bree?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said.
He went and poured one first, but not for me — he walked it straight over to Mom, handing it to her with this big grin on his face.
“For the woman who raised the woman I love,” he said.
Mom shot me a glance.
She kissed him on the cheek. “That was such a sweet gesture, giving me those tickets,” she said. “You’re doing good, Gavin. You’re doing real good.”
“Okay, everyone,” Lavi said, clapping his hands together. “It is finally the moment I hope you’ve all been waiting for.”
“I’ve been waiting for this since four o’clock,” Dad said, “when Gavin called and told me to stay past closing.”
“No more waiting for you, sir,” Lavi said. “Bree, come sit right here.” He gestured to a chair. “Mr. and Mrs. Schneider, you two are right here.” He showed them to their seats. Then he turned to Danny. “And honey, this seat is yours.”
Danny went and sat down. Gavin stood off next to Lavi, near the little control panel set up in the corner.
The whole group sat and looked at Lavi in anticipation, which he took full advantage of. After keeping the anticipation high for another ten seconds, he finally started.
“So, why did I slog through an entire night of editing, when I had a very hot fiancé waiting for me in bed?” A few of us laughed.
“Is it because I love Bree? I do. But not enough to skip out on Danny.” He glanced over.
“Is it because Gavin’s my boss and I’m intimidated by him?
” He paused. “A tiny bit. But not really. It’s because today is the perfect day to show you this.
Today is the exact date these two lovely people first met, back when neither one of them had any idea where that meeting would lead.
Bree told me she was almost positive it was going to be their first and last date.
Why would the up-and-coming Redcoats quarterback ever call her back?
And Gavin told me he was completely smitten by her, by their whole conversation that night, but he was scared that she’d write him off as just another guy who changes girlfriends the way he changes his socks, and that she’d never take him seriously.
But he kept showing up anyway. And somewhere in there, they became genuine best friends before they ever became anything else.
Gavin and I looked at each other. He gave me a small, shy smile and looked away.
Was he blushing?
“And when Gavin got hurt in his third season, bad enough that he was seriously thinking about walking away from the game for good, it was Bree who stood beside him. Who encouraged him, little by little, to get back up and go after what he actually wanted. Thank god she did, because otherwise this whole city would’ve lost the most decorated, highest-scoring quarterback the Redcoats have ever had.
So, here’s to Bree. The force behind the force that is Gavin Blakley. Here’s to Bree Blakley.”
Gavin was looking at me again now, beaming with pride, and everyone raised their glasses in a toast.
“One more thing before we start,” Lavi said, holding out a few printed pages toward Gavin. “Gavin wanted to narrate this one himself. His own voice, no voiceover actor, nothing fancy.”
“You sure you want to do this live?” Gavin asked, taking the script from him.
“Just read it like you mean it,” Lavi said. “Lights, please, Danny.”
The lights dimmed, and the screen flickered to life. Gavin cleared his throat and began to read.
My Lucky Charm: The Bree Blakley Story.
The whole thing was about me, but somehow, not in a vain or overblown way. It opened with Gavin’s voice, steady, reading straight off the page Lavi had handed him.
“This is not the documentary I set out to make,” he said. “I want to tell you why.”
The screen showed old photos of the two of us as kids, side by side, mine definitely supplied by Mom and Dad.
“For most of my career, everyone wanted this film to be about me,” Gavin’s voice continued. “My story. My climb. And somewhere along the way, I realized I was about to leave out the one person who actually made any of it possible.”
The footage kept rolling. There I was on the sidelines in old home videos, helping Gavin run drills in the backyard when we were barely more than kids ourselves. Footage of the two of us together over the years. Footage of me hunched over my desk, pencil in hand, working on my illustrations.
“So I want to shift the focus,” Gavin’s voice said. “Off me. Onto her.”
Gavin’s voice stayed steady the whole time, reading from that script.
“A woman’s contribution to a man’s success is something the whole world tends to overlook,” his voice said, over the footage. “We celebrate the man on the field. We rarely think about who’s standing behind him, off camera, making sure he can even get there in the first place.”
There were interviews woven in too, with Gavin’s teammates and coaches, all talking about their own partners, their own wives and girlfriends, and what those people had actually meant to their careers.
Every single one of them got emotional on camera.
Every single one finally said, out loud, on record, what those partners had truly meant to them all along.
There were also little clips of Lavi’s interviews with me, about my work, about running a household, and I’d talked, in those clips, about Gavin’s love and support, and about the struggles too.
Including, right there on camera, the fact that while this very interview was being filmed, he was out there waiting tables at my father’s deli.
The documentary ended on a scene of the two of us, from a few days back, walking that same lake bridge, hands almost touching, the sun going down behind us.
The screening ended, and the whole backyard went completely silent.
I was overwhelmed, tears already running down my face. I looked over at Gavin, standing in the corner, and for one second, I was almost positive he’d been crying too.
He looked at me, that same gorgeous smile spreading across his face, and I smiled right back at him.
And in that exact moment, I felt like I finally had my old Gavin back.