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  Maybe he can give me some advice.

  I slam the car door closed, and start walking across the well-manicured grounds of the recovery facility. Isn’t it strange, I think to myself, that Tom managed to play all those pro games while being half drunk? Fuck, I have a pretty high tolerance and I don’t think I’d be able to do that. Then again, Tom was just running into other big guys, so maybe the alcohol helped him with the pain. It’s not like he has to do what I do, and deliver a spiraling ball to a pinpoint target yards and yards down the field. You need a clear head for that, for sure.

  “What’s going on, Tom?” I say, after walking past the secretary, who almost faints when she realizes who I am. I’m not interested, though. I can only think about Lexi.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here today,” says Tom. “And it’s pretty early for you.”

  He’s clear-eyed with his hair-combed for probably the first time in decades.

  “You’re look good,” I say.

  “It’s amazing what I can do without alcohol in my system,” says Tom, who’s already dressed, neatly, with his collared shirt buttoned all the way up and tucked in.

  “I couldn’t sleep at all,” I say, and I immediately launch into the entire story without much of a prelude.

  “Why don’t we go for a walk?” suggests Tom, so we find ourselves once again walking around the campus of the recovery facility. The dew is still on the grass, and the sun isn’t yet past ten o’clock in the sky.

  “That sounds like a tough situation,” says Tom.

  “You bet, man,” I say. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “Hmm,” says Tom. “I meant it sounds like a tough situation for her. I mean she’s a single mother and she’s working this incredibly hard job. You said she was just made partner, right? You wouldn’t believe the kinds of hours those people put in. And to do it all as a woman, no less—they’re still widely discriminated against, even in the legal field, where, frankly, you think they would know better.”

  “What the hell, man?” I say. “Why are you talking about her? I mean, sure it sounds hard, but I was talking about me!” As soon as I say these words, I realize that I wasn’t even thinking about Lexi at all, and all that she’d have to do to raise a kid by herself. I was just bummed out about how she had a kid without me or something…shit, what does that mean? Does that mean that I want to have a kid with Lexi? Fuck, I’m definitely not ready for that shit yet.

  “You’re always thinking about yourself, Jeff,” says Tom, staring me right in the face.

  He looks like he knows what the fuck he’s talking about, that’s for sure. Why does this always happen to former addicts as soon as they let the addiction go? Does something that’s been hidden by the drugs or alcohol for so long—does that part of their brain suddenly wake up and all of a sudden they’re these miniature social prophets or some shit?

  “And don’t get me wrong,” continues Tom. “That’s served you very well. We’re professional football players, after all, and we have to think about ourselves. We’re trained to think about ourselves all the time. It works for the game, and it works for the advertisements and the cult of celebrity that we fortunately or unfortunately are part of…”

  “What the hell are you saying, Tom?” I say, getting lost in his words. “I had no idea you even knew how to talk like that.”

  Tom chuckles lightly. “I was a philosophy and sociology major in college,” says Tom. “I was pretty into it before I started drinking so much. Anyway, we talked a lot about relationships, and I guess, well, I guess I don’t know what to say to you.”

  “You don’t know what to say to me?” I say, my eyes widening, the anger rising in my chest. “I thought you were all wise and shit now and you were going to tell me what to do.”

  “Only you can decide what you want to do,” says Tom, giving me an important look.

  “Whatever,” I say, looking down at the ground. “I’m going to head out. By the way, are you going to come back and play any time soon? We’ve still got to win, you know, even though you’re taking this cushy vacation from your regular life, unlike the rest of us.”

  “I’m an alcoholic, Jeff” says Tom. “I’m not taking a vacation.”

  Whatever, I turn on my heel and walk away.

  I need to get out of here before I get so angry I want to punch him.

  But as I walk back to the car, not looking back once, I realize that I shouldn’t be mad at Tom. I’m not actually mad at Tom. I’m mad at myself.

  How was I such an asshole that I got selfishly upset at Lexi, rather than asking her more about her life, asking her how she manages to juggle all these responsibilities.

  I realize now once I’m halfway back to the car that I was a dick to Tom. I turn around and he’s still there, off in the distance, apparently watching me walk on.

  I wave at him and he waves back. Can you even offend people like that? They seem like they can take any kind of abuse, because they know that when people are mean to them it’s something that has nothing to do with themselves. In this case it had everything to do with me and my attitude.

  I jokingly blow Tom a kiss, and then get in my car.

  I call Lexi, expecting her not to pick up.

  But to my surprise, she answers the phone after one beep. I’m momentarily caught without any idea of what I can say. I was going to sort of compose the message I was going to leave as the phone rang…doesn’t she need to be at work now, or taking her kid somewhere?

  “Oh,” I say. “Hi. Aren’t you supposed to be…”

  “What?” her voice is cold. I guess she’s pissed at me about last night. That makes sense, though. I guess I would be too if I were in her situation.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Work? Or dropping off…” I realize I don’t know her daughter’s name.

  “Mia,” she says.

  “Yeah, Mia,” I say. “That’s a nice name, Lexi.”

  “Stop trying to butter me up,” she says. “I’m at work, so make it fast.”

  “At work already? Wow, you guys start early over there.”

  “I start early so that I can beat your ass down in court.”

  I chuckle, and hope she’s not serious.

  “OK,” I say. “I’ll make it short. Listen, Lexi. I was all screwed up last night. I realized today that I didn’t even ask how you’re working a new position, a really stressful time-consuming one at that, and raising a newborn daughter at the same time. And I just want to say that whoever the guy is who left you to take care of this baby on your own is a real prick, and if I ever come across him…”

  There’s a weird noise on the other end of the phone. What the hell is it?

  “Are you crying, Lexi?” I say.

  It sure sounds like she’s crying now, and now I clearly hear that she’s blowing her nose.

  “No,” she says, but I’m positive she’s crying.

  “Was it something I said?” I say.

  “No,” she says. “It’s just, well I never thought you’d say that. I guess it hurt me that you didn’t ask…”

  “I can understand that,” I say.

  “Who am I speaking to again?” she says, starting to laugh. Her laughter mixes with the sounds of her crying and nose-blowing. To my surprise, it’s not disgusting but beautiful. Almost anything is beautiful coming from her.

  I laugh.

  “I’ve just been doing some thinking, is all,” I say.

  “Listen,” I say. “I don’t want to keep you on the phone too long. But I also wanted to see if you’re going to be coming to the game on Sunday? We’re playing the Seattle Rabbits.”

  “Just like last year?” she says.

  “Just like last year,” I say. “Except that I’m not going to be getting into any fights this year.”

  “Oh, how you’ve matured,” she says, the biting sarcasm coming back into her voice.

  I guess I’m not off the hook yet.

&n
bsp; With any other woman on the planet, I wouldn’t put up with this kind of—whatever it is. I don’t know what to call it. I’d just leave them and find someone else. But everywhere I turn I see something that reminds me of Lexi. Everyone I see reminds me that Lexi is better than everyone else.

  I can barely look at another woman right now without thinking about Lexi. That’s a first for me. A complete fucking first.

  “So you coming?” I say. “Free box office seats. And you can bring friends.”

  “My friends will have to be taking care of my baby.”

  “Bring them all,” I say. “Bring the baby.”

  “OK,” she says. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good enough,” I say.

  We hang up.

  Time to go to practice. I check the clock in the car. I’m late.

  I’m on some weird road heading out of Boston with industrial junk lingering along the sides. There are bridges and railroad freight tracks that don’t seem to be designed or laid out in any discernible sensible pattern. Everything looks grey, and the sky is cloudy.

  I have the windows down and there’s a slight bite to the air that feels unpleasant. It’s not one of those beautiful fall days. Instead, it’s one of those unpleasant pre-winter days that just reminds you that the brutal and famous Boston winders are coming, and that the sun isn’t going to be making much of an appearance for another six months.

  I turn the car around, after continuing for another ten minutes, just lost in thought. I’m thinking about Lexi, about a future with her, about the baby. Maybe I could adopt the baby and marry Lexi?

  I’m getting way the fuck ahead of myself, though.

  When I finally get to practice, coach is in my face yelling at me.

  “We can’t have the quarterback late for practice! Do you know how sloppy and unprofessional that looks? You fucking asshole, get on the field right fucking now.”

  Normally, I’d fight back. Normally, I’d call the coach an asshole himself and march off the field.

  But for the first time I feel something else. Some kind of inner peace. I don’t know what the hell to call it.

  Even though Lexi wasn’t the most inviting she could have been to me on the phone, I know there’s something important between us that can’t be broken so easily. For the first time in a long while, I feel a kind of hope, a hope that fills a hole I didn’t even know was empty.

  16.

  Lexi

  “You want to go to the game, Joanne?” I say, while I’m busy feeding Mia with a bottle of my breast milk. It’s sure a lot easier than nursing her myself.

  “Why aren’t you going? I thought things were starting back up with Jeff?”

  “It’s weird, but he seems more invested in me than ever. And I mean that’s not like a huge level of investment. It’s a weird side to him. I don’t know if it’s making me back off or what.”

  Inside, I know the truth: I’m feeling like I can’t commit to Jeff because he doesn’t know that Mia is his baby. How am I going to go on living a lie like that, while I’m right beside him, or while he’s deep inside me, or while we’re in bed together?

  “Why don’t you and Jason go there together? Doesn’t he like football?”

  “Isn’t Jeff going to be disappointed if you don’t show up? It’s a big game for him. He’s facing off Dylan Knight who’s pretty much his rival now.”

  “All right,” I say, suddenly changing my decision. “I’ll go, but only if you and Jason come along. We can bring the kids.”

  So it’s settled, and I even invite my mom along, too. She’s always been a fan of professional sports, especially football.

  The week goes by quickly with work.

  One day I’m sitting at my desk and Fred comes over.

  “Hey,” he says. “What’s going on?”

  I’m not in the habit of making small talk with this psychopath monster, so I just nod my head.

  “I said what’s going on?” he says.

  “What’s your problem?” I say. “Can’t you see I’m busy.”

  He’s standing at the doorway to my office, leaning in just a little bit.

  “I have something to tell you,” he says.

  “Spit it out,” I say. “I can’t be wasting time. I have to get home to my daughter.”

  “Funny thing about that,” he says, his face turning into a wicked smile. “Isn’t it curious that you’re suing the father of your baby?”

  I can feel my face falling, turning what’s probably a ghostly white.

  “What did you say?” I say, but I already know what he said.

  “I said,” he says, his voice growing louder.

  “Shhh,” I say. “Come in here.”

  “But don’t you want to hear it again?” He’s wearing his asshole cocky smile plastered all over his stupid face.

  I get up from my chair and grab him by the arm and drag him into my office. I’m holding him by his necktie. I slam the door behind us.

  “Get off me,” he says, puling his tie away from me.

  “Where did you hear that?” I say.

  “It was just a suspicion,” says Fred, smiling even more than before. “But you just confirmed my suspicion.”

  My heart sinks. I let go of Fred completely and sink back into my chair, covering my face with my hands. How could I be so stupid?

  “You asshole,” I say. “So you’re going to tell everyone and try to get me out of the partner position and install yourself?”

  “That’s the plan,” says Fred, twiddling his fingers together. “But I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do now…”

  “What do you mean? You want a bribe or something? You fucking sleaze ball. Just tell them and get it over with.”

  “It’s a huge conflict of interest,” says Fred. “Quite interesting, really, the way it worked out. And I suppose you’re still hooking up with him, aren’t you? Just couldn’t keep away from the hot football star, could you?”

  “Get the fuck out of my office right now,” I say, suddenly growing enraged. I hate the way he’s talking to me.

  He saunters towards the door and blows a sarcastic kiss to me before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

  What a fucking asshole.

  It doesn’t even matter now though. All that matters is I’m screwed, and Mia’s future is screwed.

  The work day passes in a daze, and when it’s time to leave I’ve completely forgotten about Jeff’s game tonight.

  I’m reminded by the car radio, which features a sports commentary section, talking about Jeff and Dylan Knight, the two quarterbacks who are “facing off.”

  I hate the stupid terminology they’re using. How do quarterbacks “face off?” This isn’t hockey, or something like that, where they’re literally going head to head.

  I’m in a terrible mood right now and everything seems terribly stupid and pointless, football included. Pretty much everything and everyone except Jeff and Mia are idiots, the way I’m looking at the world right now, through foggy cloudy lenses.

  I arrive at my mom’s house. I immediately pick up Mia without saying a word to my mom. There are tears in my eyes as I hold Mia close to me and feel her little heart beating against my skin.

  “What’s going on, honey?” says my Mom. “You look like something terrible just happened. Is everything OK?”

  I sink down onto the couch, with Mia clutched to my chest.

  I don’t say anything. I open my mouth, but n words come out. There are tears streaming down my face.

  “Honey,” says my mom, siting down next to me, and putting her arm around me. “What’s going on? You can tell me.”

  I start slowly, telling her everything eventually. The tale unwinds from me, and I feel slightly unburned as I tell her, crying the entire time. I tell her about the affair with Jeff. I tell her that Jeff’s Mia’s father, and lastly I tell her about Fred in the office, and how I’m going to lose my job.

/>   “What should I do?” I say.

  “Wow,” says my mom. “That’s quite a story there.”

  I nod.

  “Only you can figure out what it is you need to do,” says my mom. “I don’t like this Fred character one bit.”

  Inside, I’m thinking that this isn’t helpful at all. What kind of advice is this? Why can’t she just tell me what I need to do?

  “I guess there’s no easy answer, then?” I say, my eyes starting to dry, the tears ceasing. Mia’s a comforting force against me, cuddled into me. Her breathing is comforting on its own. And even though my mom doesn’t have the answer, I shouldn’t expect her to have the answer—it’s comforting just to have her here, and I can’t believe how nice it is just to tell someone what was weighing so heavily on me all this time.

  My mom shakes her head. “Doesn’t look like it. But let me ask you this: what’s more important to you: Jeff or your career?”

  My mom gets up and moves into the kitchen, where she can stilll hear what I’m saying. She’s preparing tea, and the kettle and the stove make reassuring sounds as the water boils.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s not like I’m choosing between those two options, really, since I’m thinking about Mia’s future.”

  “Sweetie,” says my mom, returning from the kitchen, holding two cups of steaming tea in front of her. I take one from her hand and blow gently on it, while being careful to keep the water well away from Mia, in case I spill some of it. “Mia’s just a baby, and it’s very nice and very responsible of you to be thinking about her future. But not everyone needs to have their future path paved with gold. You certainly didn’t have all those advantages and you turned out great. Look at the career you’ve got now.”

  “I’m about to lose my career,” I say. “And I’m still in so much debt it’s amazing that I have any money at all.”

  “Do you want to have a relationship with Jeff?” says my mom.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “There’s certainly something there more than just physical attraction, and lately he’s been behaving a lot more maturely or something. I guess I’m holding back because of Mia.”

  “He doesn’t have a clue he’s Mia’s father?”