Page 126 of Fumble Into the End Zone
As the team separated, I turned to Bryce. “How you holding up with the baby?” I asked.
“I should be asking you the same thing. You’re starting over with a new baby,” he said.
“Mia’s pregnant with twins,” I said.
The color drained from Bryce’s toffee skin with his mouth open.
“Twins, Marcus? Are you serious? Man, stop playing around,” he said, and I chuckled.
“I’m serious. We’re having twins. I need one touchdown and play half of the offensive snaps to get my two-million-dollar bonus. Now, since you know this, we need to connect on the touchdown,” I said.
Bryce and I slapped hands. “I got you,” he said.
“But on a serious note. Why Mia is on this get to know your teammates bullshit, man?”
Bryce hunched over his seat in laughter, holding his stomach.
“I knew yo ass was sick about putting your business in the team group chat. I told you to name the chat,” he said after catching his breath.
“Man, you know I was pissed. Ed won’t let the shit rest, yo. He tried to corner me before I walked in here. Talking about him and his wife is here for me and Mia.”
Bryce’s laughter returned as he reclined in his seat.
“I wanted to correct his ass; I was a single parent before Mia,” I said.
This time around, things have improved. Bryce stood up and walked away, laughing as he came back.
When Ed cornered me in the hallway with concerned eyes, I folded my arms. For fifteen minutes, this man talked about finding a balance between family and football. Player after player walked by, not giving me a reprieve. When the coachcalled the team in, I sprinted to get away from him, not answering a question.
“If you would have attended one of those after-hours events, you would have been cool,” Bryce said.
“I told you I wasn’t going to those people’s houses. Granny said visiting people’s kitchens will make you look at them differently. Some of them are nasty already. The kicker never washes his fucking hands,” I said.
Bryce put his phone down and left me in the back row as he laughed.
Dr. Choice tried holding his laughter, but he couldn’t, and I was serious.
“Marcus, I do not believe your teammates are plotting against you by asking you to be more open,” he said.
An offensive lineman stood by the side of my car when I left practice. He tried to bully me into eating with the team. Bryce had to call him off; I might end up knocking Ed’s ass out.
“We are colleagues, not best friends. Line up and play your position. Why do you need to look at my sexy ass woman and eat my food?” I asked.
Dr. Choice dropped his head and shook it. “Marcus, the concept of football is to play as a team. With the Elite Bowl coming up, the players are more sensitive to everyone being dialed in. At least, it’s what I speculate. I’m going to encourage you to give the team something. Tell me, Marcus, what is your worst fear about connecting?”
“I don’t see a reason to connect. Play your position and we’re good. We went undefeated with nobody knowing more than they know now,” I said.
Dr. Choice released a hard gasp. “How does someone gain your trust?” he questioned.
I sat back with tense shoulders. My inner thoughts pushed me to shut down, but I promised myself and Mia I would work on myself.
“Show me they are loyal. For example, Bryce looked out for me on the contract and made sure I secured a starting position on the team. He had his own agenda, but he was up front about it. Us wearing the same colors don’t mean shit to me,” I said.
“And Mia?” he asked.
I bit down on my lip to find the appropriate words. “Outside of her fat ass, beautiful smile, and energy, Harley connected with her. My daughter has a sixth sense about adults. Mia was patient and considerate. She included Harley in the conversation. She made my daughter feel seen. And Mia doesn’t need me for shit. She got her own bread and passion,” I said.
“You wanted to trust Mia and allowed her to show she was worthy of your trust,” Dr. Choice said.
