Page 111 of Play the Last Card
They’re all there, mixing together like one giant, confusing cocktail.
“I just … I’m angry. I miss them. I wish I had more time with them. I don’t know who else to blame,” I say quietly after a moment. “Scott is … I don’t know. What should I do?”
“I don’t know sweetie. Maybe it’s time to talk to someone about all this.” Katie steps forward and wraps me in her arms, hugging me tightly. “You can find someone to help you work through it, if you’re ready. And, Ives, I love you. I do. But not being with Scott because of his literal job? The only people that you’re punishing are you and him.”
I turn my head, resting on her shoulder. If I had any tears left, there is a good chance I would cry.
“I miss him,” I murmur.
“I know you do.”
“I don’t know how to be all in,” I admit out loud to her. “I’m so scared. Of facing that world, of all the things that come with it. Of losing him to it.”
“He’ll help you, you just have to let him,” she tells me quietly, her hand running soothingly over my back.
Something in my resolve crumbles. A brick from the endlessly high wall comes crumbling down. She’s right. I know she is. I knew it last night, and I know it now.
I’m still angry. I’m still confused.
Maybe if he never walked into the bar all those months ago, I would spend the rest of my life living in the football free bubble that I made for myself, perfectly content. But he did. And now that I know him, now that I love him, I don’t want to go back.
I just need to figure out how to go forward.
He’s told me he isn’t going to give up, that he’ll fight for me. I think it’s time I step in the ring.
My phone rings again. This time I pick up.
“Ivy? It’s Dr. Bryden.” A chill takes over my body. “I think you should come to the hospital.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
An ESPN Newscaster
“Sad news in sporttoday. Reports have confirmed that William ‘Billy’ Booker passed away in a Boston Hospital late last night. A representative for the family has released the following statement:
Billy was battling poor health after a minor stroke six months ago. We sadly lost him overnight. His granddaughter, Ivy, was by his side. Billy was a big personality and loved by many. He will be dearly missed. The family requests that you respect their privacy at this time.
The Broncos will be holding a celebration of Billy’s life next Saturday morning at their home Stadium. It’ll be open to the public and tickets can be reserved on their website now for free. Our hearts go out to his granddaughter Ivy and Billy’s close friends. He was a one-of-a-kind player that had captured the hearts of many a football fan. We pay tribute to the illustrious career of Billy Booker, next onESPN.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scott
Snow covers the churchand its surrounding grounds.
Brown stone, red brick and stained windows look dull under the storm clouds that circle above. Rain is coming but for now, the only sound is the bells echoing in the air.
Black cars line the road in front of the church and I kick the gravel path as I move quickly toward the front doors. I’m running late.
My shoulder is torn and I’m sitting on the sidelines. If we make it to the Super Bowl, there’s a chance I can get cleared but Coach confessed to me through the week he isn’t confident we will. The draft pick straight out of college that replaced me on the field after I got injured was good, but isn’t NFL ready. The boys held onto a lead we already had to win the game but the gap closed pretty quickly.
I was angry. I was annoyed. I hate being hurt.
But then Billy died.
Being hurt hasn’t mattered so much since I found out the news. Nothing has mattered all that much since then.
Except Ivy.