Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Aubrey comes into the room. I wipe my tears and avoid looking at her. She sits down next to me, too close, but I don’t dare move a muscle. I never know when it’s going to be an all-out fight which I’m definitely not in the mood for or a love fest.
“What are you watching?”
“The Super Bowl.”
“It’s so late. Do you need to watch it now?”
“Yes, I do.” My words have bite. “Noah’s playing.” I can barely say those two words without my voice cracking. “It’s the biggest game of his life and I’m not there.”
“And that’s my fault?”
Yes and no.
Yes, because I’m here and don’t have the balls to leave. Mostly because of Amelie and there’s a silver hope that my wife wants me, that she wants to make our marriage work.
No, because when we left, we had no idea Noah and the Portland Pioneers would crush their competition in the playoffs. They’re the underdog. No one expected them to be there. Certainly, not me. If I had, I wouldn’t be here.
“It’s no one’s fault,” I tell her. “They won and made it. They could’ve easily lost.” Had I gone home when planned I would’ve been there.
“Is Mack there?” she asks.
“He is. He called earlier but I thought you were asleep, or I would’ve taken you the phone. He was in the locker room, and he got a tour of the stadium.”
“They’re treating him well.”
“Like he’s theirs,” I remind her.
“Are you going to stay up and watch the game?”
I nod and she sighs.
“Okay, well, I’ll make some snacks then.”
Aubrey heads into the kitchen and returns after the coin toss. She has a bowl of popcorn, chips, and a couple of drinks.
“We don’t have much for snacks,” she tells me.
“The grocery stores are a lot different here,” I point out.
“True.” She sets the bowl of popcorn between us and hands me a drink. “Go Noah,” she says as she taps her drink to mine.
Mostly, we sit in silence—that is, until the Pioneers score. Then we erupt in applause, we dance and high-five each other. This is the Aubrey I’m used to. Not the one who emerged a year ago, the sullen withdrawn one. The one who told me she felt suffocated in our marriage. The one next to me is acting like my best friend and partner.
When the fourth quarter starts, we’re on the edge of our seats. The score keeps flip-flopping. We’re up, then the other team, then us. It’s too much and I’m nervous. At one point, I stand and began pacing only for Aubrey to encourage me to sit back down.
“He can’t see or hear you,” she reminds me. “Sit down so we can watch together.”
I do as she says, and she puts her hand on my leg. Do I ignore it being there?
“Even if he doesn’t win, it’s an accomplishment being there.”
“I know,” I tell her. “But to Noah and the guys, it’ll be the biggest let down of their lives if they don’t win. Some teams have all the luck and make it to the big game multiple times. Some teams go and don’t ever win. And then some teams make it once and never go back. You play to win, always.”
“Winning isn’t everything,” she says.
I give her a sideways glance. “When they’re little, yes, because we want them to learn the fundamentals. When you get to high school, college, and the pros, winning is everything. Winning gets you noticed. Losing gets you fired or benched. These organizations are paying their players millions of dollars to win. They’re expected to win, and if they don’t, they’re expected to fix their shit before the next season starts.”
“Ugh, that’s too much pressure. Oh look, there’s Noah.”
The camera steadies on him as he talks to his coach. I wish I could read lips to figure out what they’re saying. Now I know what Aaron Burr felt like when he just wanted to be included. It sucks knowing the only reason I’m not there is because I’ve excluded myself. I’m failing Mack as his father, and I’ve failed Noah.
When the clock winds down, more tears stream down my cheeks. Aubrey’s cheering, but I’m dying a little on the inside. The boy I raised, the boy Mason and I taught how to play football, the boy I coached from the time he was little through high school just won the Super Bowl, and I’m half a world away because I can’t seem to leave my wife, even though she doesn’t want me.
8
Aubrey comes into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of navy-blue scrubs, and rummages through the refrigerator. She either doesn’t see me sitting at the table or she does and is choosing to ignore me. The latter would suck because as of late, things have been good. We haven’t fought, we’ve enjoyed each other’s company, and she’s been somewhat affectionate toward me. Those moments are really what sends me into a tailspin. It’s like my wife is slowly coming back to me, and I’m not sure what to do about it.