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Lexie
Life isn’t always fair.
When it comes to my father, if feels like life is never fair. Or at least he makes sure it isn’t. It doesn’t matter that I graduated top of my class or that I’m excellent at what I do. When it comes to my father, it just doesn’t matter. Nothing I do will ever be good enough, certainly not when it comes to taking care of his precious team.
“Dad...” Like a child, I use his name as an argument. The only thing missing? Stomping my foot.
“The answer is no.”
“Give me one good reason.”
He chuckles. “Because I said so.”
“Really nice,” I say as I plop down in the chair, defeated.
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and I’m certain it won’t be the last.
“Listen, kiddo…”
“I am not a kid,” I argue, though admittedly, I still act like one around him. I can’t help it. I’ve done everything I can to prove myself to him, including being in the top of my class. Yet, he still sees me as nothing more than his little girl. Now, I spend every waking moment hoping and praying for his approval and for him to see me as something more.
“Jesus, Lexie, it’s just a nickname. I’m not calling you a kid.”
“You’re treating me like one.” He always treats me like one.
He sighs. “I think you’re a fine therapist. That’s not the issue.”
Fine—what a resounding compliment.
“Then what is the issue?” I jump from my seat and stand before him. “I can do this. I want to do this.”
“I’m not putting you in that kind of position.”
“What position is that, Dad? Missionary? Doggy style?” I throw my hands up, exasperated. “I’m not doing this to screw your team. I’m doing this because it’s what I love.”
Trying to protect me from “players” has always been the name of the game. On top of being the best coach in the NFL, my dad also coached at my high school. His way of keeping an eye on his cheerleader daughter, I assume. The standing rule was you don’t date Coach Masterson’s daughter. That rule wasn’t only adhered to by the football players, either. The basketball players, baseball players, hell, the whole damn school adhered to it.
No one wanted to make Coach Masterson angry, least of all prospective athletes.
My father cringes at my words. “Yeah, well, trust me, they would all be after you.” He shakes his head. “Putting a beautiful young woman like you in this environment is… is… wrong.”
“First of all, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Second, and most importantly, I don’t have sex with my clients.” I don’t really have sex often, period. I haven’t had the best track record with men. I won’t be disclosing that, though, he would be too happy to hear it. “I am a professional. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my career.”
“That’s great. Do it somewhere else.”
“Fine.” Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder. “I will.”
“See you for dinner tonight?” he asks as I walk toward the door.
I answer him by slamming the door behind me. The long walk back to my apartment does little to cool me off from my conversation with my dad.
Sports medicine and physical therapy—it’s what I majored in and what I love. It’s what I’m more than qualified to do. Yes, I can do it anywhere. Hell, I could even do it for another football team. It sure as hell would serve my father right. Yet, I can’t seem to find it in me to leave him. It’s been just the two of us for so long. I just wish he would quit looking at me like a little girl and see me for the professional I am.
“Yikes,” Abbie says when I walk into to our apartment.
Abbie Shipper has been my best friend since we were twelve. Since my mom died and she spent every day trying to help make me miss her just a little less. She knows me better than anyone. That’s why the moment I step through the door she knows something’s wrong.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” she asks, then shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I already know. Coach Dad at it again?”
