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Now, she casually tells me she made the team and has a potential love interest.
Deciding to question her more about the guy later, I shift my focus to her new position as a Washington Saint's Cheerleader. "Jasmine! You made the squad!" I exclaim, leaping from my seat and releasing the gasp I've been holding. I lean over and give her a hug. "You made it, sis!"
Jasmine glances around, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention I'm giving her. "Calm down, and save some of that energy for the game."
"But this is a major deal," I insist.
She blushes. "It kind of is, isn't it?"
Curious about the news, Louise chimes in, asking, "What is it?" Jasmine shares the exciting news with her, and Louise responds, "That's great, Jasmine! Let's celebrate tomorrow at my house."
"Hopefully, we'll have a win to celebrate too," Marjorie points toward the field just as the crowd erupts into roaring excitement.
Wayne has thrown a fifty-yard pass, and there is not one bottom in the seats as our side of the stadium becomes a place of pandemonium.
Over the next four quarters, Wayne is in his element, finding openings and making plays to secure the win. And when I least expect it, he turns in my direction and pats the place over his heart.
The fan cam zones in on Louise and Marjorie as the seconds dwindle to zero on the clock in the final quarter. The seasoned divas wave for the camera, showing grace and beauty with little effort. Then, the cam scans over to me. I don’t know what else to do but to raise my hand and wave nervously.
The whispers in the wife box get loud. Stares get bolder. People want to know who I am to Wayne Richards. Their glares practically askWho the hell are you, and where did you come from?
“Girl, you’d better stop acting shy and give this fan cam some face,” Jasmine states, posing as if she’s on a runway when the cam records her next.
“I’m going to slip out and head toward Wayne,” I say to my sister.
She opens her arms and offers me a hug. “Are you ready?”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Yes. I’m very ready.”
She asks, “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Did you think we would let you do this alone?” Wayne’s mother interjects. “Come on. We’re all going with you, and if anyone gives you any problems, we’re all going to be on top of their heads.”
I want to laugh or even think about what Louise just said, but I don’t have time to think before she takes me by the hand, and our little group follows the wife box crew onto the field.
This is it…
Chapter Fifteen
LESLIE
Sign Me Up
Sane people head home after the game, but fanatics rush the field to engage in the victory celebration with the players. Film crews and photographers do their jobs of positioning themselves to record an interview or a special moment.
I will be snapping post-game pictures during the playoffs one day. As of right now, I’m an associate photographer working on an as-needed basis, which is nice because I truly want to be with Wayne tonight.
A well-dressed male reporter recognizes Louise and steps in front of her with his microphone extended, blocking our path to Wayne. “Mrs. Richards, can I ask you a few questions?” He continues before she has a chance to answer. “Wayne was in his element tonight. How does that make you feel as his mother?”
She gives him a warm smile. “When it comes to my Wayne, I’d be proud of him if he was collecting tickets at the gate, but he’s the quarterback and doing a very good job of it. So, of course, I’m happy for him in all of his accomplishments.” She tugs at my hand and pulls me to her side. “Now, if you’d excuse us. We’re looking for him to give him a big hug for a job well done.”
Intrigue enters the reporter’s gaze as he shifts his attention to me. “I noticed Wayne make several gestures toward your section during the game. I saw the way you responded to him, too. Was he blowing that kiss at you by chance?” he asks.
Marjorie’s slender fingers interlink into my free hand. She pulls me away just as Louise does the same with the otherhand. “We really have to go find Wayne. I’m sure he’s looking for us. Thanks for the excellent and fair reporting that you give him every week,” Marjorie tells the reporter.
“Yes, you’re an excellent reporter. Thanks for that. But I’m sure my son is looking for us, so we must go,” Louise adds to the butter Marjorie is serving the reporter.
“Good save,” I tell Marjorie and Louise, though I’m unsure why I need saving. Wayne plans to tell the reporters about me tonight anyway.
