Thankfully the reporter started talking about gas prices, and Dad fell silent. I could hear him eat the crunchy flakes in his bowl and was glad he had something else to do with his mouth other than talk.
After they covered soaring gas prices, a house burning down in a neighboring town, and the president’s new insurance plan, they finally played the clip of a football flying through the air, which meant the local teams’ scores were about to be posted.
“The Lawton Lions have done it again” were the first words out of the news anchor’s mouth, and I let out an actual sigh of relief. The lady droned on to say that Brady Higgens had struggled through the first half but he’d come back in the second half and owned the game. The Panthers hadn’t been ready for him, or at least that was the Panthers’ coach’s take on it when they asked him. He seemed impressed, and although he was sweating and tired-looking from the game, he agreed that Higgens was the best quarterback in the state. He’d now experienced it and looked forward to following the boy’s career.
A little burst of pride welled up in me, and that was silly, but it was the truth. We had been friends as kids but not anything special. I had been friends with all of them. Brady had always been the leader, even when we’d all been playing together on the swing set at the park.
It made sense that he was the leader now. I stood up to leave when the recaps of tonight’s game moved on to something else.
“Guess you can sleep now knowing that boy had a good game,” Dad said as I was leaving the room.
I paused and winced. I was a little obvious walking out just after that news. “He was nervous and possibly the only friend I’ll ever have in this town.”
That was the best explanation I had, and it was the truth.
“He’s a good kid. Talented athlete. But I will say I’m more proud of him for ignoring the rest of them and reaching out to be your friend anyway. He has a lot riding on him, so to see him take a stand like this gives me hope for that bunch after all. Brady is their leader. They may buck him at first but eventually . . .” He trailed off.
I wasn’t going to think that way, nor would I get my hopes up. Brady couldn’t take away all the hate that was set in from what happened with Rhett. I often wondered, would this all have been better if I had just left town and not told anyone? I would never know the answer to that, and figured that was okay. I didn’t need to know. My life had turned out the way it was supposed to. I was a firm believer in fate. So far fate had given me Bryony and I couldn’t complain. She was perfect. My perfect.
“Good night, Dad,” I said before leaving this time.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
I went down the hall and slowly eased the bedroom door open so I wouldn’t wake my sleeping princess. She was curled up into a ball with most of the covers, and I loved watching her like this. She was safe and secure in the life I’d given her. She knew nothing about how she was conceived or the pain that had followed it. There was no need for her to know.
Bending down, I kissed the top of her head, and the sweet smell of baby shampoo met my nose. I loved smelling her. The house had smelled like this—baby—when I had brought her home from the hospital. That smell reminded me of sleepless nights but also of first smiles, first kisses, first words, and first steps. I loved everything about that smell. I often wondered if I could convince her to keep using the same shampoo into her teen years. I doubted it, but there was always hope.
My phone was sitting on the nightstand. Although it was on silent, the screen lit up the room. I never got texts or calls unless they were from my parents. The only person who had my number now was on a bus celebrating a victory.
I hurried around the bed and picked it up.
Brady’s name appeared, so I swiped my finger over the screen and read his words.
Thank you. I owe tonight to you.
That wasn’t true. He owed tonight to the fact that he was a star. I had nothing to do with it.
I seriously doubt that, but congratulations, I replied.
He would be leaving town this summer. Going off to live his dreams. And I would be here with my parents until I could get a place of my own in a town where I could start over and have a life.
If you hadn’t talked to me today, I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate, he replied.
Had my going over to his house really bothered him that much? I wanted to let the flutters in my stomach fly free and enjoy this, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t a girl in high school who could flirt and have fun. I was a mom and a daughter with responsibilities. I lived a life he didn’t understand and I didn’t expect him to fit into.
“Enjoy your win. I watched the news. You deserved it.”
I didn’t wait for him to reply. I turned my phone over and laid it down. Young girls’ fantasies were not for me.
Fun Game Last Night, Huh?
CHAPTER 20
BRADY
Saturdays after a game I should sleep in. However, sleep didn’t come easily last night, and the smell of bacon woke me up earlier than I’d have liked. I reached for my phone and checked to see if Riley ever responded to my last text. She didn’t.
Jerking on a pair of sweats, I headed downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. My mom was piling up a stack of pancakes with her pink-and-white apron tied around her waist. I had bought it for her five years ago for Mother’s Day with money I’d made mowing grass. She wore it all the time.
“Morning,” I said as I headed over to the fridge to get the milk.
“You’re up early. I expected you to sleep until noon,” she teased.
I hadn’t slept until noon, well . . . ever. She knew better. “I smelled the bacon,” I told her. “A man can’t sleep when there is bacon.”
That got a laugh from her.
Mom had always been that mom. The one who made our lunches and cooked us breakfast. The mom who made cookies and let me have a den full of guys over. She believed in me and was proud of me. In return I wanted to continue to make her proud. I had been given a mom most guys weren’t lucky enough to have. At least not in my group of friends. I was lucky that way. Not a lot of moms were as perfect as mine. For example, Gunner’s mom. I wasn’t even sure she deserved that title. She hadn’t done much for him in life.
“You sore from last night?” Mom asked as she placed a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table for me.
I had a few sensitive spots but nothing worth mentioning. Those were from some ringers in the first half that I deserved. My head hadn’t been where it needed to be. “I’m good,” I assured her.
She smiled at me, then went back to the pancakes. “I saw the hits you took in the second quarter. You’re bound to have a few bad spots.”
I shrugged and reached for the syrup to coat my pancakes in. “Dad still in bed?” I asked, changing the subject.
“No, you know your dad. He got up early and headed to the office. Said he needed to get caught up on things, and he’d see us at dinner. I’m sure he’ll be ready to talk football by then.”