Page 37 of Scored

I wasn’t a coach. Nevertheless, I wanted to run down to the Vikings’ locker room at halftime.

Sometimes it was fucking painful to watch a game when I genuinely cared about the outcome without being a part of the team. Despite my six years with Green Bay, I wanted Minnesota to win, for Zane. The playoffs were a special time. The energy was different, more intense, the difference between a decaffeinated coffee and an espresso. Last year, the Vikings tied their record with the Bears. The Bears won the tiebreaker, blocking the Vikings from entering the wild-card round.

Zane made it to the divisional round twice while he played in New Orleans.

Today, both teams were playing tight defense. If I could be in the locker room at halftime, I’d tell Rowlings to play more aggressively, throw the long passes. Conservative play wasn’t going to win this game. I’d also tell the Vikings’ defense to watch for the long pass. Hughes had an arm and so far, he barely used it. Short passes and handoffs may have Green Bay up by six, but that was because of the Packers’ two field goals.

“Score some more points,” I mumbled.

“Fin.”

A well-manicured hand with alternating green- and gold-painted nails landed on my arm. I looked up to a soft-brown stare from my past. “Gail,” I said, moving my arm away from her touch. “Long time.”

“When I heard you were here, I had to stop by.”

“I wasn’t sure you still worked for the Packers.”

Gail feigned sadness. “You mean you haven’t followed my career as I’ve followed yours?”

“I admit, I haven’t.”

“LA was a shit season. Jackson should have never let you accept that offer.”

“You know what they say about hindsight,” I said as I saw Vee whisper to Mom before Mom turned back.

Shit.

“We’re here tonight to watch Zane,” I said. “You remember my brother.”

“Of course. Oh, is that Lisa?”

“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth as both Vee and Mom came closer.

“Lisa,” Gail said. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Gail.” My mother’s voice was as cold as I ever heard.

Setting down my drink, I placed my right hand in the small of Vee’s back before chastely kissing her pink lips. I turned to Gail. “Vee, this is Gail. Gail, this is my girlfriend, Maeve Hubbard.”

Everyone was smiling except my mom—not the real kind but the ones you carry with you for a moment such as this. They’re our masks that, in fact, don’t hide our true feelings.

“Yes,” Gail said with dramatic flair. She thrust her hand toward Vee. “So nice to meet you. My sympathies for your father.”

Vee shook Gail’s hand. “Thank you.”

“You know,” Gail said, “now I remember seeing a news story about the two of you.” She looked from me to Vee and back. “Now you’re the owner and president of the Lexington Coopers. And…” She turned to me. “Oh my. She owns you.” Her eyebrows came together. “That’s an interesting dynamic.”

Snaking my arm around Vee’s waist, I pulled her closer.

“His contract,” Vee corrected. “Funny how fate works, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.” Gail looked around the suite. “I wish I could stay, but I’m afraid there’s no rest during game day. Of course you know that, Maeve.”

“I do. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. And if you ever want to come back to Lambeau, don’t hesitate to get ahold of me.” Gail winked before turning and exiting the suite.

Mom put her hand on Vee’s shoulder. “I’m glad you were warned.”