Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 51122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
“You know they’re both starting tonight, right?” I asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed, grinning wickedly.
“And you know the game has been sold out forever, right?” I pushed.
Because it had. I’d tried to get tickets, because I liked to support my boys as much as I could since they did the same for me, yet I’d been unable to acquire tickets.
I could practically hear the laughter in his voice as he said, “Of course.”
“You have a plan,” I guessed.
“I have a plan.”
• • •
“We’re going to go see the boys,” he declared, holding up the tickets an hour later. “They have a Christmas Eve game…is that okay?”
Anything was okay with him home. Anything.
“Of course, it’s okay,” I promised.
I was tired, exhausted, swollen, and ready to give birth any second.
But if it meant seeing him smile, and seeing Titus and Slone smile, I’d do just about anything.
He wrapped me up in a hug so big, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into him.
He sighed. “I’ve missed the hell out of you, Perry.”
I squeezed his waist and pressed against him as best as I could. Which sadly wasn’t all that great now due to the girth of my belly. “I love you, too.”
CHAPTER 2
Help someone when they’re in trouble, and they remember you when they’re in trouble again.
-Life Lesson
BANNER
With my wife’s hand in mine, we were led out onto the field seconds before the anthem was played.
“You can’t sing for shit,” I heard my wife whisper.
I shrugged.
Honestly, she was right.
I couldn’t sing for shit.
But they’d needed someone to sing it, and what better way to get out onto that field than by singing the anthem?
How hard could it be?
Well, according to my wife, it would be really damn hard.
“We won’t put you up on the jumbotron,” I heard the man who was accompanying us to the field say. “That way, you can surprise them if you want.”
I did.
“He does,” Perry echoed my thoughts. “He’d like to pretty much walk up and scare the shit out of them, if you’ll let him.”
“Unfortunately,” the man chuckled, looking a bit nervous, “I don’t have the authority to get them over to you. They’ll have to do the moving.”
I rolled my eyes.
Like he could stop me.
But I’d allow it.
I didn’t want to make waves on my first day back. I was lucky to even be getting what I was getting.
“Sounds good,” I said, squeezing Perry’s hand as I got my first good look at all the people in the stadium. Damn, there were a lot.
I pulled my phone out and texted the group chat that included my big brother, my sister, their significant others, Perry, and my parents.
Me: Yo, about to make a fool out of myself on national television in T-minus two minutes. Turn to the Longview game.
Mom: Oh, boy. I have the DVR ready.
Dad: Usually, you should avoid those kinds of things.
Me: I am. No actual coverage of my face. I made sure they knew that.
Dad: Good. Glad to know you’re not a complete dumbass.
Ford: Glad that I don’t have to give you directions in how to be a SEAL, bro. Glad you made it home. Now you can come to dinner and eat with us. Right?
Mom: He fucking better. I’m not eating without him.
Me: That’s sweet.
Ford: I just don’t want to have to help Mom clean. You’ll come early and help with that, right?
Me: No. Sorry. Pregnant wife.
Ford: Your wife is pregnant, not you, dumbass.
Me: Tell that to Perry. She hasn’t stopped crying since I got home. I don’t think she’d let me leave even if I tried.
Being a SEAL meant remaining as anonymous as possible.
And being at a football game that two of your best friends were in a professional league for wasn’t remaining anonymous.
But I’d been assured that there wouldn’t be any photo ops or coverage of either my national anthem singing, or my reunion with my friends.
Which was good enough for me.
However, I made sure to have my hat pulled low, my hoodie pulled up covering my neck and head, and a five o’clock shadow that covered everything else.
Really, no one was going to recognize me. Not unless they knew me, like my family did.
“All right, sir.” The man handed me a microphone. “You’re up in three, two…”
The announcer said, “Let’s stand for the National Anthem.”
Everyone stood, and I mentally said, ‘fuck it.’
Perry squeezed my hand and stepped backward into the dark tunnel, allowing me to have the limelight.
I winked at her, made sure she was safe where she was, then walked farther onto the field until I was standing at the 50-yard line.
“Oh, say can you see…” I sang, belting out the lyrics like I was a goddamn Grammy winner, when, in fact, I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Hell, sometimes I even hurt my own ears when I got to a certain pitch.