Chapter 9 Austin Graham

Put Me to Work

Two and a Half Weeks Until Christmas

We win on Sunday, and I fully believe it’s because Kelly is in the crowd watching with her Graham forty-one jersey on.

I fully believe that’s why I have the drive of competition in me. I’m fired up, and I score on the third play of the game only to glance up and see her screaming like crazy in the crowd. She catches me looking and waves at me, and I wave back to let her know I’m thinking of her even in the moments when I’m scoring a touchdown for my team.

How the fuck did that happen?

Better yet… when did that happen? I’ve always played for myself, but maybe that’s because I never had anyone else to play for.

And maybe I do now.

Kelly found a babysitter and brought Ava to the game, and every time I looked up from the field into the stands, I saw the two of them laughing and having a great time.

Having her in my stadium, wearing my jersey, makes me feel a little less lonely.

It feels a little less like rock bottom today…like maybe she’s here today for more than just supporting the father of her child. She’s here because she wants to be.

At least…that’s what I’m hoping.

When Tuesday rolls around, I head to Kelly’s place to pick up Mia. It’s Kelly’s day off from the bakery, and when she answers the door, she looks…flustered.

“You okay?” I ask, reaching over to remove a piece of ribbon from her hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Good. I just…” She sighs. “Come on in.”

I follow her into the family room, and she has a six-foot folding table set up with all sorts of crafting supplies on it. I spot Mia on the floor unspooling a roll of red and silver ribbon, and I walk over and grab it from her.

I respool it as I ask, “What’s all this?”

“Mrs. Howard—the woman who set me up on that awful date last Friday—she told me she’d pay fifty bucks for one of the wreaths I made for the cookie shop. At the game on Sunday, Ava encouraged me to sell them at the shop, so I thought I’d use today for my side project and bust out a bunch of wreaths. Only…I can’t really get anything done with this sweet little doodlebug here.”

I chuckle as I watch that sweet little doodlebug lift herself to standing using the chair Kelly presumably was sitting on before she answered the door. Mia proceeds to run her hand along the top of the table, knocking all the decorations Kelly had organized on the top into disarray.

Kelly huffs out a sigh, and I swoop in and pick up Mia. Her shirt rides up a little, and I lift her into the air and blow raspberries on her stomach. She dissolves into giggles, and I tuck her into one arm like a football as I bend down to pick up all the things she just tossed on the floor.

“What can I do to help?” I ask.

She’s staring at me with a touch of awe in her eyes, and she pushes her hair out of her face. “You’re doing it.”

I laugh. “No, really. I can help with more than just keeping Mia out of your hair.”

“You know how to make wreaths?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Well, no,” I admit. “But I can help keep things organized, or you can teach me.” I carry Mia over to her highchair, and I strap her in. I set the tray on top and pour some Cheerios onto the tray, and then I pull the highchair closer to Kelly’s workstation.

I put Paw Patrol on the television since the pups always make Mia giggle even though I can’t be sure she really understands what she’s looking at, and then I head to the kitchen table to grab another chair. I set it beside Kelly’s at the worktable. “Put me to work,” I say as I sit beside her.

She raises her brows. “You sure?”

I nod, and she hands me a circular metal thing. She points to some greenery that looks like it came off a Christmas tree, and she hands me some wire.

“First step is to secure some wire to the ring. We attach the bigger greens in the back, and we layer in smaller bunches on top. So if you could make the base with a bunch of the big pieces, that would be a huge help to get me started.”

I pretend like I understand everything she just said, and I start wrapping some wire around the metal ring. She watches me for a few seconds before she reaches over and guides my hands to show me how she does it.

Her hands are on mine, and for a second, it’s like she doesn’t realize it. But then her eyes shift to mine. Hands still touching, our eyes lock into some heated moment I don’t ever want to step out of.

“Dadadada!” Mia calls, snapping us out of our trance.

I glance over at her as Kelly pulls her hands back and refocuses her attention on the wreath she’s been working on. “Mimimimi,” I say back to her, and she giggles as she tosses some Cheerios onto the floor.

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Cheerios go in the mouth, not on the floor. See?” I snatch one off her tray and pop it into my mouth.

She mimics me, popping one into her mouth too.

“You two are cute,” Kelly says, and I glance over at her with a raised brow as I set my hand on my chest dramatically.

“Cute? Me?”

She laughs, and we get back to our tasks. She holds up the wreath she’s been working on after a few minutes, and she eyes it. “Something’s missing,” she murmurs.

“Looks good to me,” I say, inspecting it, but she drops it onto the table and shoves another bunch of greens onto one side before holding it up again.

“There.” She sets it back down and starts laying out pinecones on top of it as if she’s figuring out where she’s going to set each one, and I continue wrapping the big pieces along the ring.

We work together as Mia snacks on her Cheerios, and eventually Kelly starts to make conversation.

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

“I don’t really have any,” I admit. “It’s on a Thursday, so I’ll have practice. You?”

“I’m going to Chicago. I always met my parents at my grandparents’ place over Christmas break back when I was teaching, so it sort of feels like tradition now.”

“Oh,” I grunt. I don’t mean to be short. If she wants to go to Chicago, she should. It’s just…I was hoping to see Mia on Christmas at some point, particularly given that this is her first Christmas. I guess it’s not all that important to me since the holiday is meaningless for me, but somewhere deep down, I was hoping to start a new tradition. I was hoping to find a way not to dread the holiday—to replace the bad memories with some new, good ones.

“If you don’t want me to go—” she begins, but I interrupt her.

“No, not at all. You should go, especially if it’s tradition.” I bury the thought about wanting to see Mia.

“I figured if you had practice, you wouldn’t mind.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah. Absolutely. I’ll be gone most of the day.” I don’t mention the fact that Lincoln Nash also has kids and will likely cut practice short depending on how we performed the week before and who our upcoming opponent is. Wednesdays and Thursdays are typically our two toughest days of practice in season, but if we put in enough work on Wednesday, we might go lighter on Thursday.

But it doesn’t matter. I have no one to celebrate with.

Not even my own daughter.

I’m quietly introspective after that. I finally got the starting position, and…

Now what?

It didn’t solve my problems.

Sure, we shared a kiss last Friday, but it didn’t seem to get us anywhere. We didn’t talk about it. She’s still holding back, still doesn’t trust me, still thinks I’m too immature.

So what else can I do to prove I’ve changed? Will there ever be anything that’s enough, or is it time for me to finally just figure out some way to move on?

As I sit here wrapping wire around tree branches as my baby girl giggles happily in a highchair, and I sit beside this woman who I’ve fallen for over the last year and a half, I can’t help but wish I had the answers to those questions.