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I received a text from Ava that said exactly this on Thanksgiving night. We’d just played a game—yeah, one scheduled on Thanksgiving, which I was kind of glad for, considering I was sad I wasn’t spending it with Ava and her family—and I checked my phone long after the game was over, when we were on the bus headed home.
Ava: We need to talk.
That’s it. That’s all she said. No, how are you? or Happy Thanksgiving or I’m thankful for you-type texts. None of that shit. I get the ultra-nerve wracking, we need to talk instead, and it sucks ass.
But then I shove all my worry and anxiety out of the way because at least the woman wants to talk to me, am I right? I texted her immediately upon seeing the text.
Me: I’m on a bus coming home right now. Want to call me?
She doesn’t respond.
Of course she doesn’t respond. It’s late. Maybe she’s in bed? My girl is more of a night owl, but maybe she’s exhausted after a busy holiday with her family.
Man, I have the best memories of Thanksgiving with the Callahans. They all show up. They play football and eat lots of food and laugh and joke the entire time. They watch movies together and they have dessert contests like who can make the best pie, and the afternoon football games with all those greats out on the lawn are the absolute best. I’ve played football with Owen Maguire and Drew Callahan—who can say that?
Me. I can say it.
I’ve brought Jackson with me. Jake would have Diego over. One time Caleb came over for dessert and played. It was a blast.
I miss my girl. I’ve missed her since our last stupid fight, when I knew it was all my fault, but part of me doesn’t regret the move, because it helped keep her away from me for a bit so I could get my head on straight. I was a mess, letting my emotions take over me and screw with my head, my game.
Not any longer. Something clicked recently, though I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was intense practice after intense practice, Tony right there by my side almost at all times, convincing me I was on track. Shutting out all the negativity and bullshit that fucks with me, thanks to his soothing voice praising me and reminding me that I’ve got this. Tony and I have become closer and I’m thankful for that guy. I always believed his quietness meant he was hiding something.
He’s not—he’s always listening. Thinking.
Reminding me that I’m doing this for me. For Ava.
For our future.
It also helped that Ryan has stuck around and is staying with Mom. He got a job as a bartender at Southgate and is killing it with tips. He talks about finding somewhere to live close by, once Mom seems capable of being on her own once more, and we don’t have to worry about her trying to hit the bottle.
She did have DUI charges brought on her, and that’s a whole other mess we still need to figure out, but one I’m not necessarily having to deal with at the moment. Ryan promised me he’d help. Mom has a lawyer friend and she’s already hired him. They’re taking care of it.
For the first time in what feels like forever, it’s not all on me, and that’s a huge relief.
Sure wish my girl would call me back, though. I want to hear her voice. Tell her what’s going on. Will she listen to me? Or is she just calling with bad news? I don’t know if I can handle any more bad news this year. It’s been a rough one and I’m ready for it to be over.
I’m just about drifting off to sleep when my phone buzzes, jolting me awake. I fumble to check my phone to see I have a text.
Ava: We should talk in person.
I frown, rereading what she said, hating the nervous feeling that socks me in the gut.
Me: I’m free tomorrow.
Ava: Want to meet somewhere in the morning? Or will you be too tired?
Me: I’ll meet you whenever you want, wherever you want.
There. That shows I’m willing to do whatever she wants. Because I am.
Anything for my Ava.
I stare at the little gray bubble with the three white dots, anxious for her answer, grateful no one is paying attention to me. This late at night, most everyone is snoozing or messin’ on their phone.
Finally, she responds.
Ava: Tomorrow at 10?
