"Then say it,” I reply, knowing what is coming but still loving her enough to keep my cool. "Say what you need to say."
"Your daughter is angry at you, Whitney, not the bullies. She is angry at her mama and she doesn't know how to deal with that. You're her mother, the woman who has raised her and always been there for her, and you hurt her when you cut Troy out of your lives."
"I did it for her own good," I say woodenly, and Dani gives me a frustrated look.
"Her own good? Fighting and biting is her own good? And what about you? You've lost what, ten pounds since he left? And it's not a good weight loss either, it's a stress and heartbreak weight loss. Never mind what it's doing to Troy as well."
"What do you mean?" I ask, despite myself. "I . . . I've intentionally avoided keeping up on the football news."
"Hold on, let me show you," Dani says. "It's all over the Football Network."
Dani reaches out and snags the remote control for her TV, turning it on and punching in a number. The channel changes to the Football Network, which is pretty busy as it is a Monday night, although the game is on a regular cable station and not a premium one like FN. In its place are the normal pundit shows and highlights of Sunday's games. "Just a minute, I see it coming up."
I see it on the sidebar of the program too: 'T. Wood Troubles?' I blink, feeling a stab in my heart at just seeing his name. "What is going on?"
"Hold on a minute, like I said. Honestly, have you been happy this past month?"
I want to protest, but shake my head, my chin dropping. "You know I'm not."
"I do. You've been miserable all month, and I'm not the only friend of yours who’s—wait, here it is."
I look up as the title bar on the bottom of the screen changes over. The announcer launches into the story. "And in further developments out of Jacksonville, newly acquired linebacker, Troy Wood, who is in the middle of a season that some are calling one of the best second year rises in recent history, is making news for something else—his fines from the league. Specifically, his violation of the League's uniform policy, which states that players are not allowed to display any personal messages on their bodies."
The video cut over to a shot of Troy getting ready for his most recent game, his white uniform blazing in the bright early autumn sunlight. "Wood, however, since being traded to Jacksonville, has worn a piece of tape around his left bicep. While that isn't a problem, according to the league, what he has on the tape is."
On the screen, Troy looks at the camera, and I see in his eyes not a hint of happiness or of the man who loved playing football. Instead, I see the cold eyes of a man who’s getting ready to unleash violence without a hint of remorse or care for his own well-being. Suddenly, Troy smiles, and shows the camera his left arm, where two strips of white athletic tape have been wrapped. Side by side, in huge letters that nearly stretch from the top of one tape to the bottom of the other, are the letters, WN-LN.
"While a seemingly minor infraction of what many people say is an overly strict rule, the League office is cutting Wood no slack. His first infraction brought a six thousand dollar fine, and for the past two games, he's been fined twelve thousand dollars each. In order to avoid penalties themselves, the Jacksonville Wildcats have also fined Wood five thousand dollars for each of the past two weeks. So far, the four letters on his bicep have cost Wood ten thousand dollars for each, but when told by the league to remove the tape, he has so far refused."
The video cut over to a shot of Troy in the locker room, surrounded by reporters and microphones. "I told my coaches and the League that while I understand and respect their position, the tape doesn't come off until our next bye week, when they will be replaced by a similar tattoo."
The announcer's voiceover obliterates the rest of what Troy is saying, and the video cuts to highlights of his performance so far for Jacksonville. "When asked for clarification on the meaning of the letters, Wood has so far refused all requests except from head coach Eric Morgan, who will only state that Wood's statement is a personal one, and that it is his prerogative. To quote Coach Morgan, 'Troy's a grown man. He has said he understands the consequences, and he’s willing to deal with them.' The League is still . . ."
Dani mutes the sound and looks at me. "Forty thousand dollars. Now I don't know about you, Whitney, but that's a lot of money. Pete might clear that this year after taxes, but I'm not sure. I know for damn sure that you aren't seeing anything close to that working at the Gallery until you get your private clients ordering stuff again. And yeah, Troy's probably making forty thousand dollars a week, but I don't care about the money. What scared me more was that look in his eyes."
"Yeah," I admit as the story changes to another highlight reel. "But I can't take responsibility for it."
"Bullshit."