That makes Evelyn choke on a sob.
“Then how is this going to work?” Dennis asks. “Your schedule isn’t exactly nine to five.”
“No,” I say, “it’s not.”
“You travel. You train a lot. You have camps. Then the games. What happens when they have school or one of them gets sick or there’s a parent-teacher conference?”
“I’ll be there as much as I can,” I say. “And if I can’t be there, Presley will. And lucky for all of us, she’s a doctor, so if the kids get sick, they’ll be just fine.”
Dennis looks at Presley. “But she’s not family.”
I clear my throat. “Presley and I are married, and she’s been in my life for eleven years. She’s very much part of my family, even before we were married.”
Presley sits up straighter.
“If I may?” She looks at me, and I nod.
“I know this is a big adjustment,” she says. “But I’m not just Saint’s wife. I’m part of the kids’ daily routine. Yes, I’m the team doctor, so my schedule will coincide with the team’s, but he and I will build a schedule that works for us around the kids. When he can’t be with them, I will be. And”—she pauses—“lucky for us, my family owns the team, so I have a little more flexibility than the average team doctor.”
Evelyn wipes beneath her eyes. “I know, but I still don’t understand how it will work since both of you travel together.”
“I grew up in this life, and my parents made it work. We will too. They will travel with us a lot unless it conflicts with something in their schedule,” Presley says gently. “And if Saint and I both need support, my family is there. My sister and her soon-to-be husband spend a lot of time with us. They have a daughter, a year younger than Rhyan, and they are like two peas in a pod. And, yes, Liam will also be with us since he’s the quarterback, but my sister doesn’t always travel, and when she does, she brings Seraphina. We have a very close-knit family, and we know what it means to build a family around football. My family has been doing it for generations.”
I look back at Dennis. “NFL players have families, Dennis. I’m not pretending it’ll be perfect, but that would also apply if I weren’t a professional athlete. We’ll do whatever we have to do to make it work for them.” I pause. “And let’s be honest, I’m thirty years old now. My football career won’t last forever. I’ll be retired before they hit middle school, if not sooner.”
Presley looks over at me and blinks.
I guess it’s not something we’ve really talked out, but it’s the truth all the same. I’m getting older, and as much as I would love to play forever, my body won’t let me eventually.
“I don’t want to go to court over this,” I continue. “I really don’t. Remy and Rhyan don’t need to be caught in the middle of adults fighting over who loves them more.”
But if I have to, I’ll fight with everything I have, and I have the financial resources to do so, but I know they don’t. And I won’t in good conscience bankrupt them over loving their grandchildren and wanting to be in their lives.
Evelyn starts to cry again.
“I love them like they’re my own,” I say, voice rough. “They’re my sister’s babies. They’re all I have left of her too. And they’re my responsibility, and I promise you, I will never fail them.”
Dennis looks out the window, and I follow his gaze. Remy’s chasing Rhyan across the yard while she swings a foam sword over her head, shouting something none of us can hear clearly.
“I know they need you too,” I say quietly.
Dennis turns back to me.
“So, let’s make a plan together,” I suggest. “We set a consistent visiting schedule and phone calls. We work out school breaks and long weekends. You’re welcome to come up to see them anytime. I’ll bring you up during the season, if you’d like. I’ll cover all your travel costs. I’m trying to keep all doors open without ripping their lives or ours apart.”
Evelyn looks at Dennis. “We really didn’t intend for this to hurt them in any way. And we can see how happy they are with you, and it seems like they are healing.”
“I know,” I say. “And yes, they are as happy as two young children can be who just lost their parents. But we talk to them, we cry, we laugh, and we get through the pain together.”
She nods. “I just miss my son.”
“I know,” I say, quieter this time. “And I’m sorry for your loss, and I would do anything to have my sister back.”
Dennis coughs. “When they’re here”—he looks out the window again—“it feels like Chris is still close. Like I can still hear his voice in the house.”
Evelyn nods, crying softly. “Remy laughs like him.”
“And Rhyan argues like him,” Dennis adds, a faint broken smile touching his mouth.”
