With every throw, my jaw is clenched. I’m waiting with baited breath to see if he’s sacked, afraid that he’ll take off running with the ball only to end up tackled or thrown and an errant pass that lands into the opposing team’s hands, and when the ball does land where it’s supposed to be, my heart starts beating again and everyone in the bar cheers the Pioneers on.
At halftime, I get up and stretch. I think about leaving, but the camera pans to Liam, Betty Paige, and Bianca. Paige has her nose stuffed into a book. Liam is focused on the field, probably the cheerleaders if I had to guess, and Bianca is talking to one of the people behind her. I find myself waving, only to realize that they can’t see me. I miss them, even Bianca. Over the years, the dynamic of our relationship has changed for the better. She’s very attentive to Noah and Paige, and has asked if Paige would like to come to California for the summer. She wants to try her hand at acting and with the connections that Grandma Betty had and with Bianca dabbling back into the business, Paige would have a fair shot at learning from some of the best.
The best thing Bianca ever did was leave Sterling. He left Beaumont not long after their divorce was final. We thought Bianca would come back, but she sold the home she shared with him and Liam, which broke his heart a little bit. I understood where Liam was coming from with that, even though I have very few happy memories there. I hated sneaking around and always living in fear that I would be caught in his bedroom. At least at my house, Liam was welcomed, although not in my bedroom. Yet, we all know I didn’t follow rules very well.
When you’re a teenager, you break rules. I broke each one ever set up about Liam. If I hadn’t, Noah wouldn’t be here right now. I can’t be sorry for not listening to my parents. However, I’ll be damned sure that Betty Paige is more careful. I plan to talk to her about sex, and make sure that Nick and Aubrey do the same thing with Mack. I see the way they look at each other. I’m not stupid. I look at Liam the same way, always have.
“Hey, can I place an order for some food?” I ask the bartender.
“Of course, do you know what you’d like?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Why don’t you give us two of each of the appetizers? There’s a lot to feed and make sure their tabs are covered.” I nod toward my table. I estimate about fifteen people sitting at or near my table.
I get the stardom thing. I used to have stars in my eyes when Liam first came back. The racing heart, the sweaty palms, and stuttering speech wasn’t because I was in love with him, it was because he’s Liam Page, sexy rock star god who has women dropping their panties with one look. I should know because I was one of them.
The night we rekindled it all was the night I asked him to be Liam Page when he took me out. I wanted to experience what others had in my place. But what I got was my Liam with a look I can only describe as smoldering. He had this presence about him, like he was in charge of the universe and it would sway on its axis any way he wanted. He treated me like a queen that night and I knew I wasn’t getting Liam Page the rock star, but Liam Page the man who has loved me since I was fifteen.
I make my way back to the table and pull Jenna into a hug. “Thank you for being strong and dealing with these people. I owe you.” And I’ll pay her back, somehow.
“I know how important the games are to you,” she says, squeezing me tighter.
I do the same for Katelyn, but say, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replies. When I pull away, she looks at me questioningly. I shake my head and turn toward the television just as our food arrives. The people who have commandeered our table have wide eyes and hungry stomachs.
“Dig in,” I tell them. I can feel all eyes on me, trying to decipher if they heard me correctly. I nod and hands go flying toward the food. Katelyn and Jenna pull our favorites toward us, making sure that we have want we want.
“You’re a saint,” Katelyn tells me. I don’t think of it like that, but see it as me doing a good deed. The people here may not ever get another chance like this, so why not make it worth something. They’ll go home, post about it on their social media accounts, and it will be something happy for them. That’s what I find to be important.
During halftime, the broadcast flips to other games. When Chicago comes on, the three of us are focused on the screen, scanning the sidelines for any sight of Peyton. Every day I wish she were two years older so she and Noah could be together. I know that’s not what either of them wants but a mother can wish. I love the twins as if they were my own daughters, and Peyton has grown into such a well-rounded young woman. I think that is partly why I don’t care for Dessie but know I need to find a way to accept her because I fear she’s not going anywhere.
When halftime is over, the bartender turns the volume back up on the TV. And when Noah comes out, the entire place erupts in cheers. I can’t help but smile for my boy and wish I was in that stadium with him right now.
As the game goes on, I grow more worried they’re going to lose. That is until Noah throws a bomb of a pass for a touchdown. My hands are clasped together until I see us cross the goal line. I stand up and raise my arms, and start high-fiving everyone around me until I see the yellow flag on the field.
“What the fuck!” I say, much to the surprise of everyone around me. When the official shows the signal for holding, I let it all out. “That’s fucking bullshit,” I yell at the TV.
“Yeah, it was,” the guy in front of me says. Even as the play is shown again, it’s clear that there wasn’t a hold.
“Assholes.”
Everyone around me starts laughing. I do too, although it’s not funny. However, as Noah will tell anyone who listens, his mother cusses like a sailor when it comes to football.
I think the game is moving at a snail’s pace, only it isn’t. It’s the two-minute warning and we’re down by seven. Each play is more intense than the last as Noah marches them down the field. Everyone is tired and the linemen are getting closer to tackling my son. I need to be at the game, to tell his line to stay strong and protect their quarterback.
Noah takes center. He’s mic’d so everyone can hear his cadence. He drops back and fires a torpedo of a pass into the arms of his friend, Chase Montgomery’s, hands. I gasp loudly when a massive man tosses Noah to the ground, but my son picks his head up and watches the ball soar through the air, landing in Chase’s arms and he runs it in for a touchdown.
“They gotta go for two,” I say, only to have one of the men at the table disagree with me.
“No way, go for one. Tie it up.”
I point at the screen. “Are you shitting me right now? There’s too much time on the clock to just tie it up. Go for two and pray that our defense can hold them.”
“She’s right,” his friend says. I look at him smugly and wish I could stick my tongue out at him. Sadly, I must be an adult and refrain from such childish behavior.
The Pioneers end up going for two, but in the end, it’s not enough. I’m sad, but it’s been par for the course this year. I order us all another round, knowing that I need it. Katelyn consoles me, which is ridiculous. Noah is the one who needs to be consoled, although he’d tell me things will get better. Sometimes I want to scream “when” because this mom is tired of them losing all the freaking time.
It’s about an hour after the game when Liam calls. I honestly didn’t expect him to call at, but I’m glad to hear his voice.