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She gives me another hug. “I have to get back to work, but don’t you dare leave town unless you stop by and see me, you hear?”
“I will, I promise.”
“It really is good to see you.” She places her hand on my cheek, the way a loving mother would because that’s who all the school staff was to me.
I lost my mom at a young age, and even though I only really knew Carol from the school setting, she was always so kind to me.
“You too.”
She gives me one last grin and heads back to her post of selling tickets to get into the spectacle that is a McLoughlin High football game.
There’s Friday night lights, and then there’s McLoughlin High. My dad started this program with literally nothing and turned it into the most popular thing in town. They even had to install new bleachers after the mayor of the town was denied entrance one year because they were at capacity.
I watch as all the high school kids hang around, waiting for the game to start. Memories of being their age flood my mind so wildly that I can’t help but smile. Growing up, I couldn’t wait to be them. Then, when I was them, I loved every minute.
Being the head football coach’s daughter definitely had its perks of getting to be around most of the guys at the school anytime I wanted. Except for the fact that every guy was afraid of him, knowing if they broke my heart, he’d cut them from the team. He was serious about his football players but even more serious about his daughter, and he made it very clear that I was off-limits—to everyone. What he didn’t realize was that I got to hang out with all of them anyway since they were always at my house for him.
It was all fun, growing up, and to say I had an awesome childhood would be an understatement even though I basically grew up without a mom. It was my dad and me against the world back then, and I was lucky to call him my dad.
My family and I walk toward the metal bleachers and head up the long ramp to where the seats are. The JV game doesn’t start for another twenty minutes, but already, the stands are packed.
We make our way to the special spot they have reserved for our family. Since my husband’s mom still lives in town, she’ll be joining us here, too, closer to the start of the varsity game.
Since it’s just her, she’s always come to visit us. At first, she used it as an excuse to go somewhere, but then, when we had kids, it was just easier for her to join us. I thought we’d get away with never having to come back, but here we are.
Tonight, we’re the guests of honor as the school commemorates twenty years since we lost my father. Though I lost my dad, the community lost an icon, and it truly is a blessing that, all these years later, they still want to honor his memory.
When I got the call from the principal of the school, asking us to come, I knew there was no way we could miss it even though we haven’t been back to our hometown since the day we decided to leave everything behind and start a new life together.
Everything had felt so devastating when my father passed unexpectedly, but one night, one massive blowup, was all I needed to walk away for good.
And we did.
My husband promised he’d take care of me if I left with him. I’ve never regretted my decision of choosing him over the other guy in my life—especially as I look at my three beautiful kids—but there’s always been a part of me, tucked deep in the back of my mind that wonders …
What if …
What if I had chosen that other life?
What if I hadn’t taken his hand that day and saidfuck itto everything happening around me?
I inhale a long, deep breath and take my seat in the stadium chair my husband set up for me. He reaches for my hand, and I glance his way, grinning before turning my attention to the field.
The emotions that race through my body almost take my breath away.
Though the beat-up grass is now covered with shiny, brand-new turf, still, all I see is my dad out there.
We’d be out here every Wednesday night while he mowed the grass himself. He had this little riding mower that he used to slowly make his way up and down the grass while I sat in the press box, doing homework.
I turn around to see if the handprints we put there years ago, when I was a little girl, are still there from after we painted the box bright orange. Lo and behold, on the corner of the box is one big handprint from my dad and one tiny handprint from me next to it.
I lean down to my kids sitting in front of us. “Turn around.” I point to the box. “You see those handprints up there? Those are mine and Grandpa’s from when we painted it years ago.”
Mollie shrugs and goes back to her phone while Aubree and Tommy smile, then turn around quickly to enjoy the excitement of the stadium.
My husband wraps his arm around me and brings me toward him. He kisses my forehead and whispers, “I think it’s cool they are still there.”
I smile at him, and then he removes his arm and claps his hands together with a burst of excitement. “Who wants popcorn?”
