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When Nick got drafted by the Mustangs, I came with him to ensure the transition from college to pros went as smoothly as possible. I bought groceries for him, made sure his clothes were cleaned, paid his bills, and generally made it so all he had to do was concentrate on football. Oh, and women. He had plenty of time for women. I was the buffer between him and everyone who wanted something from him. Every rookie he came into contact with envied him.
When he won the Super Bowl his second year out, my little business expanded from one player to ten. And in the past year, it has grown from ten players to twenty-nine, and I’ve had to leave the bar to keep up with demand. After Lainey’s job was threatened by the old manager because she’d had an emergency at home, Nick, Reese and I bought this bar—although Nick is a silent partner because Lainey and him don’t get along.
Forget Me Not, or F’Me as my players like to call it, now aids the transitions of professional athletes in nearly every major city and for every major sport as they are drafted or traded. Each athlete is handled by one person.
I find them places to live close to the training facility along with restaurants, grocery stores, schools, nannies, dry cleaning, and churches. And I take care of all the details back home—getting a house sold, making sure all the bills are taken care of, finding that lucky pair of shoes that was left behind. All the player has to do is pick up his bag and leave. I—or one of my employees—take care of all the details.
And because I am scatter-brained I have to write things down. I have written lists, electronic lists, and a master list of my lists. When it was just me managing my small herd of players, I kept track of them by assigning them to a single notebook, color coded according to their new team colors. Reese is my admin because he likes a job without responsibility, or so he says. Even Lainey pitches in from time to time when she can. If there’s an emergency or something falls through the cracks, one of the three of us take care of it.
And tomorrow I’m flying out to San Diego to patch one of those cracks. A baseball player, Christian Glass, has just been traded from the Royals to the San Diego Commandants. This is his second trade in two years, and his family is anxious and unhappy. I promised Christian I’d come out personally and help with the transition.
This is a big deal for me, even though Christian doesn’t know it, because I never, ever go to San Diego. That’s where Nate is stationed, part of the West Coast SEAL teams. Despite San Diego being a huge city, I always worry about seeing him in some random place—like a shopping center or a bar or a grocery store. In every scenario he has his arm draped around a woman and I know if I ever see that, whatever is left of my childhood will be crushed. As I told him in my last letter, I will always love him.
I just don’t want to.
26
Charlotte
The tension hits me the minute I walk into the suite that Christian’s family is currently staying in. Despite the hefty per night price tag, this place is too small for Christian, Peyton, and their two year old. I make a note to move housing up to the top of the list. Ideally their child should have stayed behind while I looked for the right property and Christian met with his new team.
I’m not sure whose idea it was to have the whole family here, but no one is happy making the large three room upper-story suite feel like a stifling linen closet. My eyes slide from the scowl-lined face of Christian to the tense one of Peyton. Only Peyton even attempts to smile at me when I arrive.
“How is sweet Christie doing today?” I ask as I advance toward the sofa and scoop up their beautiful baby girl into my arms. I rub my nose against her soft skin, enjoying the pats of her tiny hands against my cheek.
“Fine, despite the ungodly flight. I don’t understand why they didn’t send the team plane for us,” Peyton says with a dark look.
“Babe, I couldn’t ask for that.”
“You asked for the trade,” she shoots back. “Maybe think about your family next time.”
I settle onto the sofa next to Peyton. “Hey, Peyton. I’m here. I’m going to take care of everything. You will love it here. The beach and the sand will be awesome for Christie. And the Commandants are a great family organization. You know Shelly Hoffman, too, so it’s not like everyone here is a stranger.”
