AllFreeNovel
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“There’s a lot on your shoulders. Just glad it’s not me.”
I stare at his pristine runners before noticing how distressed mine look. “Wait. Are those shoes even broken in?”
“Asics sent new ones with the updated contract.”
We’re all captives to our contracts… well, our agents and our contracts. Endorsements pay ten times what our salaries do, but there are none without the three little letters affixed to our jerseys.
NFL.
The pinnacle of accomplishment in the sport.
“Let’s go.” He nods, and we take off in a steady stride down the sandy beach. March in Florida is just about perfect. The humidity isn’t trying to kill anyone. The bugs haven’t reached full size, and hurricanes aren’t in season. What are in season are spring breakers who enter the fray and snowbirds who haven’t yet migrated north.
The beach is more crowded than it would be in January, but the throngs of drunk students aren’t out yet either.
We set an easy pace and listen to the waves roll in.
“I never get tired of hearing that.”
“Same,” Reed replies. “Iowa and waves aren’t a thing.”
“Texas has beaches but the waves don’t sound like this, and the sand and water… There’s no comparison, really.”
“Are you going home soon?”
“I was home last month for my brother’s wedding.” Which reminds me, I never responded to Brighton. “And in December before that. Our first Christmas with my nephew was fun.”
He turns somber as my watch indicates we’ve run the first mile. “Christi is pregnant.”
“Congratulations, man.” I slap his shoulder. “You ready for this?”
He shakes his head. “No. I mean… I will be. It’s just—”
I wait, saying nothing, and hear only the soft thud of our shoes hitting in unison, the waves crashing, and the seagulls squawking overhead.
Reed is deep in his head today. “I love the game. You know it. Ilovethe game. I can’t risk another concussion or significant injury with a wife and a baby. And I don’t know what I’ll do to provide for them without the game. Today, I just feel old.”
I have no advice. I don’t feel old. I feel strong and don’t have the same worries Reed does. I also don’t have any of the same responsibilities. My family works hard and is financially sound. I have no wife and no kids. I’ve been playing since I was twenty-two and invested well, so I’m comfortable. I have no reason to stop.
“Nothing to add?”
“Nah. It’ll come to you.”
“I appreciate you, Layton.”
We run for another two miles in companionable silence. I leave him to his thoughts. I spend the time fighting mine.
Past the well-populated beaches and high-rises in the sought-after zip codes, we come to a patch of sand that thins drastically. The condos haven’t been built here because they’d have to import sand and put in barriers that the water would chew up within a handful of years.
The small bungalows across the beach road have an unobstructed view of the sand and water. They’re small and painted in watercolors. On the porch of one, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, chin raised to the sun, is the pixie. Of course, she’d live here.
I live in a high-rise in the city with an underground garage and a doorman. She lives where anybody could punch through her glass and raid her home.
Everything I own is black and white. Her house is flamingo pink and has a country-chic feel. She has flower boxes and a white picket fence. White fucking pickets.
She’s yoga, and I’m weightlifting.
I look at my watch. “We’ve gone three. Want to turn around, or are you looking for a specific distance today?”
