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“It was Exposé’s handiwork. They printed the headline after an interview where they took something out of context. I was going to deny it, but a lot of things happened, and it was easier, and more lucrative, for us to pretend we’re engaged. She wants to start a foundation and needs the cash, and I’m considering retirement, as you know. It just made sense.”
Mom hums. “That’s actually a reasonable response, I think. Might as well get something out of their exploitation.”
If anyone hates the media, specifically Exposé, more than my sister and me, it’s Mom. Their attack on Layla devastated her. The Legends requirement that I work with them has eaten her alive. It’s the only thing in her life that truly makes her furious, so it’s no surprise that she sees it this way.
“I’m glad you agree,” I say.
“You know,” she says coyly. “You could use this as an opportunity …”
I roll my eyes at my mother’s arbitrary way of not talking about sex. “You know, Mom, that’s a fantastic idea. I never thought of that.”
“Oh, stop it,” she says, chastising me. “You know what I mean. You could use this to your advantage.”
I switch the phone between my hands. “You don’t think I already thought of that?”
“I would hope so,” she says, as if she’s pleasantly surprised.
“Let me be real about this. I’m trying to work some magic here, and I’ll keep you informed if there’s any big updates. In the meantime, I am at work, and I do need to get this wrapped up so I can get home to my fake fiancée and my niece.”
“Yes. You do,” Mom says. “One more thing. Do I need to come home now? Dad’s checking into flights. We can come back and help with Sunny or whatever you guys need from us.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say. “I think they’re coming back this weekend. But if anything changes, we’ll try to get ahold of you.”
“Good. I’m gonna try to call your sister again. If I don’t get through, please, please tell her that I am heartbroken for Branch, that we are praying for him, that if she needs anything, just leave me a message, and I’ll be on the next flight home.”
“I will. And, Mom, she’s not mad. Layla knows that you’re enjoying yourself, and she knows you’d be here if she needed you. Relax and enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“Okay. I love you, and you tell my future daughter-in-law that we love her too and thank her for taking such good care of our sweet granddaughter.”
“Yeah, let’s scare the shit out of her before I get this locked down,” I say, laughing. “I love you. Go have fun. Tell Dad I love him.”
“I will. I love you, Finn.”
“Love you, Mom. Bye.”
I end the call.
The cafeteria is bustling with people. Players have lunch between appointments and staff members swing by for a bite to eat before returning to their desks. It’s a slow version of what next week will be like when training camp starts. A part of me is so ready … and a part of me is not.
“There you are, Miller,” Frutter says as I approach his table with a container of chicken and rice. “I saw you with Hannah. How’d it go?”
I set my things on the edge of the table, but don’t sit. “She said the shoulder looks good and the cartilage in my knee is wearing down, but not enough to keep me off the field.”
“Glad to hear it,” he says.
“What about you guys?” I ask, looking around the table at him, Chauncey, and Wes, the rookie wide receiver that they’re hoping can somewhat replace Branch.
“I fucked up my knee a bit at the end of last college season, but Hannah said it was stronger than she expected,” Wes says. “I’ve been rehabbing it all offseason, so I am cautiously optimistic.”
“You better be more than that,” Frutter says. “I need you catching the fucking ball. Do you understand?”
Wes nods, shoving his sandwich in his mouth like he’s not quite sure yet how to navigate this level of play or instructions from a veteran like Frutter.
“All I know is I’m fucking ready for this to start,” Chauncey says. “I have never been more ready in my damn life.”
“Why? What’s going on?” I ask.
He scoffs. “Literally, my house makes me fucking crazy. It is a madhouse, to say the least. Kids in and out of the door all day long. My wife with a list of fucking shit she wants me to get done before the season starts. There’s never anything decent to eat. You can’t relax. I’m ready to get here and avoid that mess.”
