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Not much had changed, and I found myself getting a lump in my throat as emotion overflowed. I was regretful that I’d missed so many of his games. I blinked back the tears; my eyes hidden by my dark sunglasses. “Yes! Amazing!” I was enthusiastic in my exclamation but trying so hard to hide the tightness as I finally found my voice.
Our family was complicated, maybe even strange to the outside observer, but to all of us it was perfect. Dylan and I had grown up together after my stepdad, Jensen, married his mother, Missy. He was divorced from my mom, Teagan, who then married my real dad, Chase; and my dad and stepdad had been best friends from college. Even I found it a little unconventional, but I was thankful for every one of the four adults who co-parented us so well.
A little later, my brother Mace was born, followed by my little sister, Bliss, and Dylan’s little brother, Josh. Holidays and vacations were all spent together, and we shared grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins as if they were blood. All in all, it had been a magical childhood.
Growing up, Dylan had idolized my dad, who was a professional soccer player, He wanted to be just like him and to have the same career.
As the star of Arsenal and then the American team after he and my mom got married, my father was one of the most famous soccer players on the planet. It hadn’t been easy as Dad commuted across country for practices and played games and exhibitions all over the world. He made huge sacrifices to be with my mom and me, then my siblings, but watching him with my mom, I had no doubt he’d made the right choice and would do it again, a hundred times over.
I did wonder what Dylan’s plans would entail. The Stars and Stripes home stadium was an ever-changing place all over, but his games were held in various stadiums all over the globe. Our entire family traveled all over the country, and sometimes abroad, to watch him play whenever we could. I reminded myself that it really didn’t matter where Dylan was located since I was staying in Memphis for the summer and attending medical school in the fall. I’d been accepted to both medical school at the University of Tennessee and to the St. Jude research program. I was still deciding which path to take. Either way, it would be easier and less stressful for Dylan if he settled in Kansas City. I was irrelevant to the equation.
I sighed. I didn’t feel irrelevant. I felt a little heartsick that, in a few weeks, he wouldn’t be in the place I considered home.
For Dylan’s final college game, I made the trip down to South Carolina hoping to surprise him. I was pensive about his reaction but was praying it would be positive. We hadn’t seen each other for months and over the past three years hadn’t been in touch as much as I wanted. It just seemed easier to keep a little distance between us, and I sensed we both felt that way. Not knowing much about what was going on in each other’s personal lives seemed easier somehow. It didn’t mean I didn’t wonder or think about him. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to watch all of it from a distance… but it was a pain I wasn’t ready to let go of.
We both started our college careers at Clemson University when Dylan’s dream had been to use all my father had taught him to rocket to a professional career in a similar fashion. He’d done just that and would probably be heading to training camp soon. After my childhood leukemia, I knew I had to become a hematology oncologist and researcher which began with an undergraduate degree in biology.
Dylan and I had it all planned out; we’d been best friends since we were six or seven and while it wasn’t always smooth sailing, I couldn’t have pictured a day of my life without him. But, one day, all that changed.
I’d transferred to U of T, after my freshman year using the excuse that I wanted to be closer to St. Jude Research Hospital to further my desire to be a childhood cancer specialist. Technically it was true, but I could have waited until graduate school. I’d wanted to support my best friend during the first four years, but the truth was that from the first game of the first soccer season, Dylan became a campus celebrity and he had less and less time for me. I knew it wasn’t intentional, but never-the-less, we grew apart.
It got harder and harder to hide my hurt when women draped all over him pretty much everywhere we went, so I stopped showing up. I didn’t want to be around it, and if he found out how I felt I would have been completely humiliated. I stomached it for as long as I could, spouting one excuse after another why I couldn’t hang out, and Dylan’s disappointment turned to anger.
I sighed and swallowed hard at the emotion welling up inside. It still hurt to think about and seeing him was just as difficult as walking away had been.
Would he be happy to see me?
His teammates were lifting him up on their shoulders and carrying him around the field after scoring the winning goal and three others. He looked so happy. He looked so beautiful. Even with his hair plastered to his face and his shirt clinging to his body, because both were soaked in sweat, didn’t dampen how attractive he was to me. He was everything and always had been.
The fans started to flood the field surrounding the players. I felt frozen in place until my dad slid a strong arm around my shoulders. “Come on, princess! Do you want to go down to the field? I bet Dylan would be glad to see you.”
I shook my head, welcoming the comfort of my father’s presence. My arm slipped around his still trim, very muscular waist. “No, let him celebrate with his team.”
His green eyes, so like my own, roamed my face knowingly and he offered a slight nod. “Okay, sweetheart. We’re supposed to meet Dylan at The Esso Club in an hour.”
Esso’s was a local sports bar and grill, and the inside was like a shrine to Clemson athletes. No doubt my father’s, as well as Dylan’s, photographs were among them in several places around the establishment. It had been a staple of the community since the 1930’s and my parents had spent time here, as had Dylan and our friends. It was also the place I’d told Dylan I was leaving Clemson.
Of course, that’s where he picked, I thought. I cleared my throat. “Okay. Should I take my car and meet you there?” I asked.
“Bliss might want to ride with you. She’s been so excited to see you,” my mother said in a lowered tone, so my sister wouldn’t hear. “She’s missed you.”
Mace was the spitting image of my dad and Bliss looked like a younger version of me. She was a little over eight years younger and I adored her. She was fourteen and Mace was sixteen. My sister and I had our mother’s long brunette locks but shared our father’s deep green eyes with our brother, who looked just like my father. My siblings had been seated at the end of the row with Dylan’s little brother, Josh.
When I was a little girl, I had some weird idea that Bliss and Josh would somehow grow up as close as Dylan and me, but Josh became better friends with my brother. Oh well, I thought. I sucked at matchmaking, anyway.
“Remi?” My mother’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“Yes? Yeah, sure. We’ll meet you there.” I smiled at my little sister as we made our way out of the row of seats to the stairs that would take us out of the stadium. “Come on, kiddo!”
Bliss smiled as I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
Josh and Mace moved at break-neck speed down the stairs toward the field with my dad and Jensey, following at a saner pace. “See you later, Mom! Dylan said we could meet him in the locker room!” Josh, a few months younger than Bliss, was ready to explode with excitement, already racing in the other direction.
“Okay. Just don’t get in the way! Joshua!” Missy called out.
“We won’t, Missy. I’ll watch out for him,” Mace assured, hurrying after the younger boy.
“I guess that leaves you and me, Teagan,” Missy said, cocking her blonde head. “Chase and the boys can ride with Jensen.”
