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Jason was waiting for me at a table outside The Space, the trendy potential investment he was looking at in the Chippewa Street district downtown. He had an espresso in front of him and was working on his laptop. I called out as I approached and he stood up to greet me. We shook hands, back-slapping like the old friends we were. I realized that I hadn’t seen him in person since Christmas, when he came to a big charity benefit event that the Bills put on, to raise money for our local cancer treatment center.
“Jason, how’s it going?”
“Good, good.” He gestured to his laptop as we sat down. “The usual issues with lead times on marble from Italy. And customs restrictions changing all the bloody time in Indonesia, but, yes, great. How about you?”
I pushed away a flash image of Mary-Beth’s beautiful curves lit by sunlight streaming in my leaded windows. “Yeah, great. Still training pretty hard – at this age I need to. I’m working with my position coach and having intensive physio to keep the maximum range of movement in my shoulder. Gotta keep it fluid, to deliver those killer throws that have kept me out on the field for so many seasons.”
Jason smiled and nodded. “And some rest too, I hope. The Bills had a shocker of a season last year, that must take its toll mentally. Can I even say Cincinnati Bengals to you right now?”
“We’ll get them next year,” I said, but I re-felt the horror of our complete destruction in front of millions. Some media called our 27-10 loss an embarrassment. Some of our fans were really angry and upset, and that killed me. I was still plagued by a feeling that I’d let them down, personally.
“Injuries hit the team time and time again,” said Jason. “That was hard to overcome.”
“Yeah, but we kept fighting,” I said. “When Damar Hamlin had a heart attack, right on the pitch, though… Man…”
Jason shook his head. “Poor guy. How is he now?”
“He’s doing good now, but Jeez…”
“It makes you think.”
“It does.”
“We’re not getting any younger, Alex.”
“We’re not.”
The server arrived then and welcomed me. She was a little excited, I could tell, to recognize me. I ordered a carrot and spinach juice with wheatgrass and ginger shots. My personal chef Erik would approve. Through the window I could see cinnamon swirl buns stacked up by the coffee machine, but I pushed the thought of them out of my head – going down that road would get me into almost as much trouble as thoughts of Mary-Beth. Jason ordered eggs and bacon. I went for eggs and more spinach, with granary toast, no butter.
When the server had gone, now whispering and pointing at me, giggling with the other wait staff, I picked up the thread of the conversation. “And the past comes to bite you in the ass at this age too,” I said. “Twenty-four seasons and counting, it’s all taking its toll on my body. My old shoulder injury flared up – that’s what has affected my throwing arm. Of course, it’s nothing like as intense as during the season, but I need to get myself ready for it.”
“I guess you’ve got to do everything you can to stay on top at our age, man.” Jason sipped his espresso.
“Yep. I take advantage of the voluntary team training sessions at Highmark twice a week too. I’m serious about staying at the top of my game. I’ll be retiring soon, and when I go, I want to go out on a high.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all handled.”
“I think so. It can be mentally really hard to keep the vibe high and the positivity going when you’ve had a season like we had last year. Like you say, it was a horror show by the end of the season.”
It was great talking things over with Jason. He wasn’t invested in my career in the same way as the team and the coaches, but also, he’d been there and he understood it from the inside. He was in a special place in my life. “I appreciate you, man,” I said, really feeling it.
“I’m glad I could help you out, getting you in touch with Mary-Beth.”
“No problem.” I couldn’t help sounding a little grumpy. Maddy was going to be a nightmare to live with, clearly, and, as for Mary-Beth… “She seems a bit hostile,” I said. “Like she didn’t want the job.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t want to employ her either, not really.
Jason sighed. “That’s typical of her. Ungrateful and rude. That girl needs to get her act together and learn some responsibility. She let that business slip out from under her, she didn’t fight for it. Hopefully this next thing she wants to start will keep her out of trouble, this magazine thing. I’d buy her an apartment, but how would that teach her anything?”
I was a little shocked by all that and it made me drop my grumpy attitude towards her– it seemed harsh, and unlike Jason. Mary-Beth had a one-year-old after all and she was a single mom. But I didn’t say anything.
“How’s my granddaughter?” Jason asked then.
“Freaking loud, man. You’ll have to come visit soon.”
“Maybe. If I have time on one of my trips down here.”
He had time to see me, I noticed, but I didn’t push it. I wondered if things were a lot rockier between him and Mary-Beth than I’d realized. But hey - not my business.
The server brought out our brunches and asked if I could take some selfies with her and the other wait staff. So, we got involved in that and didn’t get back to the subject of Mary-Beth. Instead, as we ate, I got lots of helpful advice from Jason on the next stage of my general store project. We also shot the breeze about golf, politics and our predictions for the NFL draft, and I tried very hard not to think of his daughter as a hot sex goddess.
