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After fifteen minutes, I’m certain she isn’t going to respond, but my phone buzzes. Thankfully, no one can see the smile it brings to my mopey face.
ANDIE: We’re ready. How was the game?
ME: We won. So good.
ANDIE: Any news about the trade?
After talking to Mark, this trade suddenly seems like it could cost me a lot more than my comfort and team. I want to know what she thinks will happen after the event. Will this be it? Is she ready to move on with her life without the cloud of constant drama that seems to follow me?
ME: If I ask you something, will you promise to tell me the truth?
I see three dots, but they disappear. I’m expecting a smart-ass reply, but after a few minutes, there’s nothing. I tip my head back toward the ceiling, and it hits my headboard.This is nuts. I’m nuts for thinking she and I can ever be anything other than co-event planners. Then my phone rings.
“Hey.” I don’t even try to disguise my surprise. I wish I were sitting on her couch so I could read her face.
“So that’s a stupid question. I have no reason not to tell you the truth. What’s this about?”
My heart starts to race, and I chicken out. “Why haven’t you played your word?”
She knows I’m a chicken-shit but lets it go. “I’m…working on it. I’m taking my time, making you sweat a little.”
My body relaxes, and the corners of my mouth creep upward. “Maybe you just need to surrender this round.”
“Ha. Not a chance. Who in the hell do you think I am?”
I know exactly who she is, and I don’t want this to end. I’m not ready for her to tell me good luck with my life.
When I don’t bite back, her tone softens.
“Sean?”
“Yeah.” I try to clear my head.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. I…” I rub my temples. I don’t know what to say.
“Who’s messing with your head?” Her tone is suddenly irritated.
“No one. It’s nothing, just…next weekend and so many people will be watching us. These trade rumors are gaining attention, and I’m just waiting for the call at any moment. I don’t know if the organization is waiting to see what happens with the event or if it even has to do with what Morgan said about us.” I roll my neck, trying not to let myself tense again.
“Next weekend will come and go, and people will forget about us.” I want to ask if she’ll forget aboutus, but my tongue is glued to the top of my mouth. “What happens if they trade you?”
“It’s starting over with a new team, a new organization, and having to leave my guys.” I don’t want to start over somewhere. I want to finish out my contract and figure out what’s next. “All of this stuff is becoming too much. I can’t focus with all the noise. It’s too loud, and the last thing I need is for it to affect my game.”
She’s quiet, and I wonder if I’ve spilled too much.
“We’ll get through next weekend, and then that will be over.” She needs to quit using words like ‘we’ and ‘us’ because I like the sound, and it feels lasting. “Then all your focus can return to playing. Maybe then those trade rumors will die, too.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t want next weekend to be over if that means I can’t talk to her and see her anymore.
“Sean, it’s all going to be ok.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m standing on a ledge, and someone is about to jump out and push me off?”
She laughs, and it’s like joy to my sad soul. “Because you’ve had some shitty days. But after the storm, there are rainbows and sunshine.”
I’ve gone from darkness to light before, so I believe her. I just want to know that when the storm finally stops, it doesn’t mean she’ll step out from underneath the umbrella and be gone.
