Daylight, page 19
I sigh. I should be honest with her, but I’m just nervous. I decide to go with an abridged version of the truth.
Hey! That sounds awesome, but unfortunately, we both work every Sunday. Last weekend you caught me on a rare occasion when I had off. I’m back in town tomorrow, I would be down to get lunch with you! Cohen can come along! I’m with you, I need some new friends in the city!
Lunch tomorrow sounds great!
We text back and forth, ironing out the details. I pull out a pad of paper to make a to-do list for the week. It’s another busy week, but Chicago is going into a bye. I requested this weekend off back in August since I knew our time together would be getting to the point where we are barely seeing each other during the day. A weekend off will be nice for both of us.
Halloween is on Friday, so I need to go shopping for Halloween candy at some point. Halloween is one of my favorite excuses to throw a party, and I can’t wait for Alex and I to start creating our own traditions.
We are going to visit my grandparents, they live just south of here. It was his idea, he thought it would be good for us to get out of the city, even if it is just a few miles, to go visit them for the afternoon. We’re going on his day off, which is Tuesday.
When it’s time to get out on the field, I set up my shot with my cameraman before my executive producer talks in my ear, telling me what I’m going over. We go back and forth for a few minutes before I’m on air and doing my pregame.
The game itself is incredibly mundane. Not much of anything out of the ordinary takes place, but I talk with my coworkers back in the studio through my earpiece. We all agreed that from behind the scenes, the interview the network put out about me looks so… manufactured and disingenuous, but from the public eye, looks wonderful, wrapped up in a bright, beautiful bow.
After our postgame interviews, I waste no time getting my things from my locker in the press lounge and heading to the car waiting for me. My flight leaves in exactly one hour. The Green Bay airport is a small one, but you can usually get pretty lucky with flights to Chicago on game days.
Security is a breeze, the only other people in the airport wear the same NFL credentials that I do. Everyone is likely trying to get to O’Hare to catch their connecting flights. I see a few familiar faces but generally keep my distance. I sit down on a chair and pull out my phone, connecting my earbuds to watch the Comets game.
The gate starts to fill up with lots of people in suits and lugging bags of equipment with them, likely cameras. I mind my own business, watching the game on my phone.
The network flies me first class, which I’m thankful for. I get the in flight WiFi, so I can watch the game during the flight. Not surprisingly, the Comets are leading at the half. They’re playing the Dallas Rangers, who are having a rough season. Alex throws a touchdown pass to start off the third quarter, and I find that I’m smiling to myself.
My hand falls to the chain around my neck. It’s the necklace Alex got me for my birthday, a small and subtle way to show my support for him on air. In a way, it’s turned into more than that for me, a symbol of our love that I can wear around my neck.
I get back to Chicago around eight o’clock, but I’m not home until close to nine. Alex is just leaving New York, so I tell him to wake me when he gets home. I’m tired, but I want to see him once he’s home. I put my backpack from my day of travel on the floor next to the office, not wanting to unpack it tonight. I’ll worry about it in the morning.
I peel out of my clothes that I’ve been in since five o’clock this morning, ready to fall asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.
I wake to the sun shining through the blinds and a strong pair of arms around my waist. Stirring slightly, Alex’s eyes flutter open. “Good morning, sunshine,”
“You didn’t wake me last night,” I frown.
“I know,” he yawns. “You just looked so peaceful. I was exhausted, too. You didn’t even move when I got into bed. I came home, changed my clothes, and crawled into your arms.”
I laugh. “I did the same,” I sigh. “Yesterday just felt long, didn’t it?”
“A little bit, yeah,” he chuckles softly in response.
“Congrats on the win, babe.” I place a kiss on his cheek. He smiles knowingly, graciously accepting the kiss.
“I caught your pregame. I liked your segment on Maxwell,” he smiles.
“Ugh. He’s such a dick. But, thanks,” I shutter.
“I know. You made him look likable,” he laughs. “Only you could do that.”
I shrug, knowing he’s not far off from the truth. Jeff Maxwell is the insanely douchey head coach of the Detroit Ducks, though you’d only know he’s a douche if you work behind the scenes. To the outside world, he’s the greatest coach of our lifetime. I disagree with the sentiment, because to get awarded that title, I think being a decent human being plays a part in how great of a coach you are.
We lounge around a bit before getting out of bed for the day, neither of us in a rush to start our days. I’m meeting Brooke at a quiet lunch spot at eleven thirty, the idea was to make it out before the lunch rush. After Alex and I spent a quiet morning on the couch together, he has to get ready to go in for late-morning recovery training. It’s optional for today since they’re going into a bye, but he still chooses to go in. I get ready to leave for lunch, leaving not long after Alex.
I get there a few minutes early so I go in and get us a table near the back. The restaurant is mostly empty, so it’s not hard for her to spot me when she comes in. Her husband was able to keep Cohen today, so it’s just the two of us today. I can see the look of recognition flash across her face as she approaches, smiling and waving.
She slides into the booth, a look of confusion on her face. “Hey,” I smile.
“Hi…” She trails off. “Sorry. You just… look a lot like the girl who does… you are her, aren’t you?” She asks.
Well, that took no time at all.
I laugh, nodding my head. “I am.”
“You know, that makes a lot of sense,” she shakes her head, laughing. I laugh too, thankful that the waitress comes over to take our drink order. I’m unsure of what to say. “We watch you on TV every Sunday,” Brooke laughs.
I change the subject after her candid statement leaves me uncomfortable for no reason other than the fact that I hate how it singles me out. I ask her about when she moved to the city, explaining I’m just now back in Chicago full time.
“Six months ago. My husband and I moved here from New York,” she smiles.
“Oh, no way! I moved here from New York too. The city or somewhere else?” I ask.
“The city,” she smiles.
“Me too,” I nod. “I miss it, but I think of Illinois as home. I grew up here, a lot of my family is here,” I say.
“Yeah, I get that. I was born and raised in New York, but my husband got a really killer job opportunity here that he couldn’t turn down,” she explains.
“How long have you been together?” I ask.
“Two years,” she smiles. “Our third anniversary is coming up next month.”
“Aww, congratulations,” I smile.
We continue making small talk, getting to know each other more. I learn more about her and her family. Cohen is two and a half, and her husband Jordan is a private contractor. The mention of just the name- a name that used to hold so much power over me- sends a jolt down my spine, but I shake it off. The world is small, but not that small. I’ve been doing so well lately, and what I’m not going to do is let him start to get into my head after we’ve been broken up for years.
She is a stay-at-home mom but does freelance interior design work occasionally. Her grandparents were born and raised in Illinois, so while her parents aren’t fans of the Comets, her grandpa is and that’s why she is.
We click insanely well, which isn’t surprising. I’ve always been able to make friends, I just haven’t been trying super hard lately. As we wrap lunch up, we head out to our cars. She tells me that she’s going to send me a friend request on Facebook, and I smile before waving goodbye. A new friend. I don’t come across them very often, but I feel good about this one.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Elle’s Point of View
“I can pick up candy on my way home from practice tomorrow,” Alex yawns.
“Oh, I am so ahead of the game. I bought candy on Monday. It’s just hidden,” I wink.
“What?” He gasps. “Why?”
“I did what had to be done. I remember in college when you came to the dorm, you stole all of my ring pops after Halloween. Oh, I was so pissed,” I shake my head laughing, thinking back on the memory.
“I would never do such a thing,” he shakes his head in disbelief. I roll my eyes.
We finish up dinner, cleaning up together before we settle down for the night. It’s nice that we both have the weekend off, tomorrow starts my weekend vacation but Alex doesn’t have optional practices until Friday. We thought about throwing a little Halloween party with a few friends, but a quiet night with the two of us and cute Trick-or-Treaters sounded a lot more fun.
After dinner we sit on the balcony, sipping on sparkling water as the sun goes down. It’s brisk outside, but nothing a sweater can’t fix. He hands me a cookie from the plate we brought out with us, and I accept it graciously. My grandma gave them to us yesterday after our visit to her and my grandpa.
We had a great afternoon visiting with them. They were so excited to see me but were (not so) secretly more excited to see Alex. It made my heart dance with joy knowing that someday when we become one another’s family, he’ll be accepted with open arms. I had no doubts about that, but seeing it in action made me so happy.
It’s been hard for him, having been essentially exiled from his family. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know it’s something he struggles with. The few times he opened up about it in college, he was always overcome with an all-consuming sadness. I wish there was a way for me to make his pain mine, so he wouldn’t have to feel the agony of a shitty family that doesn’t deserve him.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, tipping his head back so our eyes meet.
I let out a sigh. “Thinking about you,” I shrug, sighing.
He nods. “Yeah?” he laughs.
“Actually…yeah,” I sigh, something in my brain clicking. “You know despite the people who raised you, you would make an excellent father?” I ask looking up at him.
I’m expected to be met with a look of disapproval for bringing this up, but instead, I’m met with his shining eyes full of sadness. “It’s hard to deprogram my head after years of thinking that way, you know?” He shrugs.
“Your father is not half the man you are. You don’t ever have to worry about his opinion or worry about anything related to him. He’s out of your life for good, Al. Quit letting him have this power over you.”
I wrap an arm around him, letting him crumble into my embrace. “So many years, I was reduced to believing I was good for only one thing. The thought of bringing another human into the world, one that would have him as a grandparent… Elle, it fucking terrifies me,” he sinks into my side, wrapping an arm around me as an anchor.
“Alex, look at my family. My family consists of my grandma and my grandpa. My dad died when I was nine and my mom decided she didn’t want to be a mom. Family is what you make it, Alex. My grandparents didn’t have to take me in and raise me, but they did. I had the best damn childhood I could’ve asked for thanks to them. Now, I know that wasn’t the case for you. Alex, I would do anything to change the years of- let’s call it what it was- childhood abuse you endured, but I can’t change the past. The only thing we can do is rewrite the future and break the cycle,” I hold him in my arms as soft cries escape him, but I feel him nod along with every word I said. “I love you, Alex,” I whisper against his head, holding him tight.
He pulls back so I can see his face. Brushing a strand of hair from my face, he leans down to place a kiss on my forehead. “I love you too, sunshine,” he whispers, his voice gravelly.
We sit there a while longer, sitting on the balcony in each other’s arms watching as the final remnants of daylight fade.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alex’s Point of View
I’ve never been one that’s gotten overly into Halloween, but it’s Elle’s ‘favorite Hallmark Holiday’. We put up some decorations this morning and spent the majority of our afternoon off together carving a pumpkin. We display it proudly outside of our apartment door next to a scarecrow she bought from Home Goods. The apartment complex does Trick-or-Treating, so I’m hopeful our hard work was not for nothing.
We both have the weekend off, so we get to spend it all at home, together. The downtime will be welcomed and much needed. It sucks for me since I’ve only played a few games back, but the rest of the guys need the bye and you can see it. Everyone’s hit that mid-season slump. I’m not complaining, though. A weekend in with Elle sounds like exactly what I need right now.
“You know, I should’ve just dressed up as you,” she laughs, her arms full with bags of candy. She bought an orange pumpkin-shaped bowl at Home Goods because I previously had zero Halloween decorations. Instead of dressing up, she bought us matching shirts to wear. They have pumpkins and bats on them, and then she bought sunglasses that have pumpkins for eyes to go with them. I indulge her, knowing Halloween is her favorite.
Trick-or-Treating starts at five, so we have about thirty minutes until we can expect to see kids coming up to the door. She made penne allá vodka, and we ate an early dinner before we snack on candy all night.
She pours us each a glass of red wine to sip on and pours a few bags of the candy she bought into the big bowl. The first kid, an ambitious little Spiderman, comes to the door at 4:49. Elle excitedly grabs the bowl and rushes to the door, giving him a small handful.
We sit in the kitchen since it’s closest to the door, and for the first hour, we have a consistent flow of kids coming. Things kind of slow down a bit around six o’clock, so we’re just sitting at the table talking about a lot of nothing.
Her phone buzzes on the table, and it’s her new friend Brooke. She wants to bring her kid to our place for Trick-or-Treating. A brief look of hesitation flashes on her face, but I encourage her. Outside of Quinn, Elle doesn’t have a lot of friends, and none in Chicago.
“Okay. They’ll be over in twenty minutes,” she smiles, setting her phone down. “She said they don’t live too far from here. We’ll have to buzz them in.”
“Sounds good,” I nod. She smiles, excitedly getting up to go answer another knock at the door. I think we’re on our fifth Spiderman of the night.
After dealing candy out to the most recent batch of kids, Elle sits down next to me, popping open the wrapper on a ring pop. A goofy, lopsided grin overtakes her face as she dramatically falls to one knee. “Alexander, will you take my hand in marriage with this delicious, cherry-flavored ring pop?” She asks, laughing.
I stare at her for a moment. Something inside of me shifts. I keep telling myself that I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but I’ll be telling myself that for months at this rate. I smile down at her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stay here,” I say quickly, getting up and jogging to our bedroom.
The timing couldn’t be better, on Tuesday we went to her grandparent’s house for what Elle thought was just a visit. I’ve actually been corresponding with her grandma for about a month now, and she gave me a family ring to propose with when I was ready. The ring was her great grandma’s, and her grandmother wore it for her first marriage, too. I knew a family ring would mean more to her than a brand new flashy ring. Elle’s always been sentimental.
I grab the tiny velvet box from my practice bag. It’s the only place I thought to hide it where Elle wouldn’t find it, not that I put a lot of thought into a hiding spot. I slip it into the pocket of my sweatpants and briskly walk back out to the kitchen where she sits, a brazen, dazed look on her face. I plant a kiss on her cheek as I kneel before her. “How about I do you one better,” I say, a small laugh slipping through my lips. There’s a chorus of knocks on the door, but we both ignore it as tears prick at my eyes and they fall down her cheeks. I grab the ring from my pocket, looking up at her as a small gasp falls from her mouth. “While the ring pop was enticing, this might be the better end of the stick. Will you marry me?” I ask, my voice breaking as she falls off of the chair and into my embrace. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight.
I’m not sure about a lot of things in my life. This though, this I am sure of.
“Oh my god!” She exclaims, laughter cutting through the tears. “Yes, Alex. Yes!” She answers through rugged breaths. “What the hell is wrong with you? Is that why you wanted to go see my grandparents?” She asks, playfully jabbing me in the shoulder.
I laugh, too. “I can’t lie, yeah,” I nod, pulling away so I can slip the ring on her finger. It has a gold band with diamonds creating a nest for the large, oval cut stone that sits in the middle. It is a really pretty ring, one that her grandma said Elle loved when she was a little girl.
“Oh, my god,” she shakes her head. “Alex. I can’t believe you. This is… this is really incredible,” she beams. She stares at her hand for a beat, lost in the moment before snapping back to reality. “Come answer the door with me before these kids start to kick it in.” She grabs me by the wrist, dragging me toward the front door.
At the door sits a family of three, a little boy in yet another Spiderman costume, the dad in an Ironman costume equipped with a mask obstructing his face, and the mom has a Black Widow suit on. “Brooke!” Elle exclaims. “You guys are so cute! How’d you get in?” She asks, turning toward me to discretely wipe away the last of her tears away.
