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“We were literally just talking about that at my book club back in San Diego!” I say. “I meet with my three best friends to talk about whatever book we’re reading, but really it’s an excuse to get together, eat, drink, and gossip.”
Victoria leans forward. “How do I get an invite into this book club?”
I giggle, and we start talking about our favorite authors. Mandy pushes Travis out of the way so she can sit next to Victoria, and Tessa moves over her husband so she can be next to me.
And just like that, it sort of feels like I found some more friends here in Vegas—and maybe even a local book club.
But that’s sort of the problem with making friends with players’ wives. Nobody knows how long a player will stay on a team. Sure, these three have been around a long time, but one bad season, one bad injury, or even one personal moment that tells them it’s time to stop playing, and they’re no longer a part of this family.
It’s such a weird phenomenon. These ladies are clearly all very close, but would they still be if one of their husbands was let out of his contract or traded?
They seem like they would be. But I’m in a different situation than they are. I’m not married to a player. I’m a coach’s daughter, and sometimes being related to a coach isn’t looked at as advantageous. And what’s worse is that my dad is anewcoach in town. He walked in, flipped everything upside down, and started training players onhisplays,hisplaybook, when they were used to some other guy’s stuff.
So despite being welcomed into this group tonight, I still have to question whether I’ll be welcome as a permanent member of this group of friends. And even if I am, I’m coming in as not a third wheel, and not even a fourth or fifth…but as a seventh wheel. The numbers don’t work out. I don’t have a significant other for double dates.
All I have is a guy who claims he wants me but tells me he can’t do this before he walks away from me.
The couples start to leave, and I take that as my cue. I bid goodbye to my new friends, which include Ellie and Kaylee, and I grab a Lyft back to my parents’ place.
They’re still awake when I walk in the front door, the two of them sitting on the couch watching a documentary about birds migrating, and I’m not a bird person. In fact, I’m sort of terrified of birds, and seeing them even on the television screen gives me a visceral reaction as I cover my eyes.
“Oh, sorry, honey,” my mom says, and she presses the power button. “They’re off. How was your night out? Did you make some friends? Are you moving here?”
I laugh. “Fun, yes, and no.”
She snaps her finger in disappointment. “Shoot.”
I twist my lips as I slide onto the recliner beside them. “Sorry. I did have fun, though. I made friends with some players’ wives, and they like to read the same kinds of books that I do.”
Truth be told, I’ve never admitted to my father what I read, but my mom definitely knows.
“Nonfiction books about knitting, right?” my dad says, and my mom and I both laugh.
“Right. Exactly,” I confirm as I widen my eyes in horror and shake my head at my mom.
“Just like I read before bed each night.” She winks at me.
“You don’t need to tell me what you read, Mother,” I scold.
She holds up both hands, and my dad wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“I do enjoy the books your mom reads.”
“Oh, God,” I mutter. “These are things I don’t need to know about my parents.”
“Who else was there?” my dad asks, changing the subject with a laugh.
“I mostly sat with Travis Woods, Tristan Higgins, and Jaxon Bryant,” I say.
“Good. All three of them are married, so they’ll stay away.” He grins at me, but there’s a sparkle in his eye that tells me he’s kidding. Kind of. “Who else?”
“Some of the tight ends. I think it was Chase, Justin, and Asher,” I say, careful not to give anything away when I say his name.
“Oh, good. Asher went.”
“Why is that good?” I ask.
“Coach and player confidentiality, but between us, I think he’s just trying extra hard to fix his reputation after his suspension, and I encouraged him to get to know his teammates a little more. Sounds like he’s trying.”
