Page 108 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“Anything about your extension. What’s going on with that? I figured you’d have it sewn up by now.”

“Not even close.”

“What do you mean? Are you thinking about retiring?”

“Fuck no” comes out on instinct.

“Really?” He sounds a little surprised.

“Yes. No. I don’t know what I’m thinking, man.” I push a hand through my hair, gritting my teeth against the worries eating me up inside. Football is all I know, but the social shit and business end can be draining, my arm is turning to shit, and as fucked up and egotistical as it is, I want to go out a winner, not a fucking loser. And the worst part is that my decision will impact my team, my fans. Pepper. I know I can talk to Dash about this, but even the thought of trying to figure it out is overwhelming.

“Remember how scared I was when I first started thinking about retiring?” Dash reminds me. “Retiring was the toughest decision I ever made. I had no clue what I’d do after writing that book. But then Amber and I got together, and life figured itself out. I have zero regrets, and now Amber and I are hoping to start a family soon.”

I’m surprised by the unexpected pang of envy I feel. Not necessarily about having a family, although I do want one eventually and I’ve been thinking a lot about that ticking clock Pepper mentioned, but I think it’s more that Dash has his life figured out. He’s made it to the end zone, and I’m stuck midfield. Like I got the snap, but I’m unsure whether to pass it or run it in myself.

“That’s awesome, Dash. I’m happy for you and Amber. You’ll be amazing parents. Sorry, man, but I’ve got to run. I appreciate you checking in, and don’t worry, Pepper is in good hands.”

After we end the call, I head over to the café to get a latte for my girl.

The redheaded waitress is busy with a group of chatty older ladies sitting at a table, each with the same book in front of them, and Clare is serving a Black couple at the far end of the counter. There’s a light-skinned young Black boy who looks to be around eight or nine sitting by the register making his way through a milkshake as he plays a handheld video game. I remember being a little kid and feeling like a big kid when I could sit away from my parents.

“Which football game is that?” I ask.

“Wild Card,” he says without looking up, his brows pinched in concentration.

“Cool. Looks like you’re good at it.”

“Mm-hm. I play football.”

“Really? What position?”

“Running back.” His attention remains on the game. “My brother says I’m fast as lightning.”

“I bet you are. Do you enjoy it?”

“Mm-hm. I’m gonna go pro when I grow up.”

Clare heads my way, slowing in front of the boy. “Finish that up, Sammy. We’re leaving soon.”

I remember Trina mentioning her brother Sammy, and I realize he must be Clare’s son.

“Mm-hm,” Sammy says.

“Hello again.” Clare flashes a sunny smile. “Flying solo today?”

Pepper and I had lunch here on Sunday. “I’m on my way to see my girlfriend and thought I’d bring her a French vanilla latte and pick up a half dozen chocolate chip muffins for her officemates.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

“Is this your son?”

“Sure is. Sammy woke up with an earache. I swear elementary schools are like petri dishes.”

Thinking about when her daughter came to work with her, I ask, “No sitter?”

“Do you know what sitters charge these days? It was either a sitter or a doctor’s bill. We’re heading to the doctor as soon as my shift is covered.”

“Your boss doesn’t mind you bringing the kids to work?”