She didn’t even give me a chance to reply before closing the door after her. If she had, I would have told her that I wasn’t in any mood for visitors.
There was a knock, and I turned my head back around to face the door. Through the window I vaguely saw a woman’s head. I nodded and she opened the door and stepped into the room.
It was Mackenzie Mayfield, the daughter of the owner of the Patriots, Jonathan Mayfield. I had met her before, of course, at various team functions. I knew she was a front office staffer, but I didn’t know much else about her.
“Lance,” Mackenzie began, “I came over as soon as I could. That was a big hit you took.”
“…Hey, Mackenzie. Yeah, big hit.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Looks like I’ll be out a few weeks.”
“I’m well aware of that, I was wondering if there was anything I could do in the meantime to make sure the recovery process goes well.”
I grinned. “You could re-sign me to a long term deal loaded with guaranteed money. That would help quite a bit.”
She laughed. It was a pretty laugh, and she looked good doing it. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m looking for places to dump excess salary cap.”
“Thanks, please do.”
She stopped laughing. “I mean it, Lance, I just want to make sure that you’re OK, and that you know the entire team is behind your recovery. We want you to take your time and get back to health, but…” she came closer, leveling with me, “it would be a great honor to my mother’s memory if we could win a championship this year.” She stood back up. “And honestly? I think you’re the best man for the job of securing one for us.”
Mackenzie’s mother, who had been a friend and near-mother to almost everyone on the team, had passed away during the offseason after a long bout with cancer. John Mayfield had dedicated this season to his late wife, and we had all agreed to play in her memory.
John Mayfield hadn’t been very public around the team lately. “I will keep that in mind. How is your father taking things, Mackenzie?”
Her eyes clouded and she shook her head. “Not well. My parents were together for almost 30 years. Losing someone like that takes a toll on a man.”
“And you? How are you holding up?”
“Better on some days than others, really. Right now I have more important things to take care of. After the season’s over I’ll take the time to properly let it out.”
That was Mackenzie Mayfield. Around the facility she was known as a wizard with the business side of things, but kind of a robot to deal with on a personal level.
“Well, I’ll do as much as I can to get back on the field as soon as possible and help out.”
Mackenzie smiled. “You do that, Lance. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“I’ll do that, thanks.”
She turned toward the door, before turning back. “Keep this between us, Lance, but I plan to take over the team from my father soon. I would very much like you to be our starting quarterback for many years to come.” My ears pricked up. “If you give me a good enough season this year,” we both knew what she meant, “I should be able to convince the front office that’s in our mutual best interest. Do we have an understanding?”
So that was it, then? Championship or bust this year. Well, there was nowhere to go but up from here. “Yes, Mackenzie, we do.”
“I’m glad we could see eye to eye. I’ll check in on your progress next week.”
“Thanks.” But Mackenzie Mayfield was already gone.
That was more or less an ultimatum. Mackenzie was going to be in charge of the team and if I could find a way to get back on the field and get us a championship, I could write my own ticket in New England.
I had to focus on that and nothing else, whatever it took.
There was another knock on the door, and I could tell through the glass it was Drake. Before I could do anything Drake had opened the door and come in, with Lily right beside him.
Both were in street clothes, and they looked really good together. The twinge of jealousy that echoed through me was immediately replaced by happiness - I was thrilled that my boy Drake was so happy with Lily.
“Hey there, Lance.”
“Drake, man, how’s it going. We won, yeah?”
“Yeah, man, we won.” The smile fell away. “Listen, man, how are you doing?”
“I’m doing alright, doing alright. You know how it is, you’re playing pro football and a guy twice your weight sits on your knee. Happens all the time, could have happened to anyone…” It even hurt to make jokes about it.
“I’m sure I don’t know how that feels, and from the way you describe it I am in no hurry to find out.”
“It’s not so bad. Sawbones out there says I should be back in a few weeks. You better hold down the fort while I’m stuck in here, yeah?”
“I’ll do that, man, I’ll do that. You gotta get better soon, I dunno how long I can make Oliver look good out there.”