Chapter Eleven
Nate
I left the field and let myself through the entrance into the Lexington Stadium locker room, listening to my footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The players had left for the day, and now it was probably just Mack and me in this entire enormous place. Normally, I would be gone by now, but I stuck around for awhile reminiscing with the guys, and admiring our Super Bowl rings. They had left several minutes ago, and I was still here busy locking up before leaving for home.
Just as I was about to turn the key on the locker room door, Mack clapped me on the back. “I’m heading home to finish getting ready for our pre-season party. See you in a couple of hours.”
“I’ll be there. See you soon,” I told Mack with forced enthusiasm.
Instead of following Mack to the parking lot, I found my feet making a left turn and heading toward the tunnel that led to the stadium’s seats. When I reached the stairs, I extended my hand, brushing the smooth handrail, letting my fingers glide down the metal surface almost lovingly. It was just a piece of hollow metal, but it was part of the handrail, which was part of the stairs, which were part of the stadium. Everything in this place was the stadium, and it was all important - every little piece of it, even this handrail. Thousands of fans had touched this bit of metal, and all of them had seen me play. Many of them must have been here for the championship playoff before the Super Bowl, feverishly cheering us to victory.
My chest swelled. The fans had gotten their Super Bowl win. I had made sure of that.
The railing ended and my hand fell limply to my side, and I just stood awestruck at the expanse of the green playing field cupped inside the bowl of red seats. I picked one out randomly and made myself comfortable. Propping my feet on the seat in front of me, I traced the yard lines on the field with my eyes, thinking.
Mack had constantly checked with me during the first weeks of my new job. He asked how I liked it, how I was settling in, and how it felt being back on the team.
At first, I had answered, “Great!” And it was true. For a while, it had been a dream come true to return to my beloved team as their general manager. Then a few weeks later, Mack asked again, and I changed my answer. “Good,” I told him, still taking care to sound excited. Just good. Not great anymore.
If Mack asked again, though, I would have to change my answer for the third time. I would have to say, “Okay,” because now, after about seven weeks, I just felt okay, neither good nor great.
Frankly, the job wasn’t as fantastic as I thought it would be. I could handle the work easily enough, although as with any new job, there had been a bit of a learning curve coming in. It kept me busy, but not busy enough to protect me from the cold, hard truth - I was not really part of the team anymore - not a player. I desperately wanted to feel that way, but I couldn’t. Watching my friends - my teammates - train on the field while I talked on the sidelines with Mack and the coaches, cut me deeper than any Hamptons’ chill. And the longer I hung around my old stomping grounds, the worse it hurt. I couldn’t even imagine how I would feel watching the team play their first game of the season on September 10th.
To make everything even worse, there was someone who could help me. Someone who could make me feel better about watching from the sidelines. Someone who might even be able to make this job bearable. But Tammy was hundreds of miles away in the Hamptons, happily planning weddings for the wealthy locals, just as she always wanted. She had achieved her dream, and I was genuinely thrilled that I had been instrumental in that. We had talked about our shared successes at length, and I knew she was happy for me as well.
Now, I stood and dusted off my suit pants before retracing my steps back through the tunnel, locking the doors and heading to my car. But before I even started the ignition, my mind wandered - again - to my high school sweetheart.
Tammy. I had seen her just a week ago when she had the chance to fly out and visit, and already I missed her so much. This was the hard part about being a billionaire. I had rental cars and jets at the tips of my fingers, just waiting at my beck and call. Any one of them could take me to Tammy within hours, and I could have her exactly where I wanted her - in my arms.
Unfortunately, after all the intrigue we had navigated to achieve our goals, I doubted Tammy would appreciate it if I skipped out on my job for her. If Mack asked how my wife was doing one more time, though, I might not be able to help myself.
Ninety minutes later, I stopped at the entrance to Mack’s beautiful home and showed the security guard my ID more or less as a formality. He glanced at my driver’s license, nodded and let me continue down the winding driveway to the side yard designated for parking.
Inside, I passed walls decorated with all sorts of team memorabilia as I headed toward the great room where the guests were gathering. Mack spotted me and approached smiling, and as if on cue. “Are you pumped? Here we are about to start the season.”
There it was, Mack was asking again how I like my job. I was proud of the way I deflected his questions and answered truthfully. “I only wish Tammy could be here to celebrate with us.”
“I bet,” Mack had said sympathetically, and I watched his eyes flick to his own wife, whom I knew traveled with him often. “How is Tammy?”
“She’s fine. Just, uh… very busy. And I miss her.”
“Oh, I bet you do...” Mack glanced over my shoulder at someone who had just walked up behind me. “Excuse me… Jack Benson has just arrived.”
I stepped aside promptly, with a keen understanding that Jack Benson was Mack’s not so silent, silent financial partner who owned a large interest in the Colonels. I nodded toward Jack, shook his hand and began working the room, waiting for an opportune moment to disappear into the stiflingly-warm evening air.
Twenty minutes later, I had made my way through the guests, making small talk here and there until I reached the sliding glass doors to the deck. I dashed outside and unbuttoned my suit and let it hang open. Loosening my collar, I called Tammy. “Hey, there.”
“Oh, Hi, Nate. You sound a little out of breath. Been running?”
“Sort of.” I hopped up on the stone wall encircling Mack’s property to try and relax a bit.
“Is something wrong?” I heard the familiar creak of her bed.
I honestly didn’t know whether to answer yes or no to that. “I’m at a party right now. Mack invited me and… of course, I had to show face. And he just asked how you were doing a few minutes ago. Luckily, our conversation was interrupted, so I didn’t have to fabricate another lie.”
“Oh. I guess you could say… she’s doing pretty well. If that’s what you called to ask.” Tammy sighed.
“I don’t know why I called,” I said, frustrated, but not with Tammy. “Sorry. I guess this ruse is just getting to me a bit more than usual. Maybe it’s karma getting back at me.”
