Page 9

Chapter 8

Letter

Boone

“ H ow you doing?” Hudson asks as he pulls out of the hospital parking garage.

“I would rather take a helmet-unprotected sack repeatedly for an entire game than deal with that vile family,” I admit.

“Be a lot like me to say some shit like oh, you’re being harsh or you’ve gotta be nice or something like that. Notice that shit isn’t coming out of my mouth, because they’re awful fucking people.”

“It’s that old money,” I grumble.

“And they say us new money punks have no class.” He forces a laugh.

“They said a lot more than that today and again tonight.”

“You gotta fight this for her, man,” Hudson states.

“Ava is working on an emergency injunction in case it’s needed, but I don’t see how it would be. I’m already her emergency contact and, apparently, her healthcare proxy. I don’t give a shit how much money they have, they’re not in Magnolia Pointe anymore. If …” I stop and reword. “ When she wakes up, she can decide where she wants to rehabilitate, but I can promise you one thing—they’re not taking my kid.”

“Yeah, there is no love lost there for Lily and her grandparents,” Hudson states something so obvious that I have no idea how I didn’t see it before.

Lindsey’s folks, Walter and Madeline Bellemont, own half of Magnolia Pointe, Georgia, and a multimillion-dollar company, Bellemont Textiles. From what I thought, they were the reason I received letter after letter, asking me to sign off my rights. Today showed me I’m not wrong. But Lily’s reaction to them being here, and not once asking to see them, has put a sour taste in my mouth and a knot in my stomach.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“You stepping out for the season?” Hudson asks.

“We’re number one, so we have this week off. Gonna have to believe Lindsey will wake up by then, so no, I’m not stepping out, and I’m keeping shit positive, so I’m not saying anything more.”

“No need to explain, man. I got you.”

“Appreciate you, Hart.”

Pulling into town, Hart announces, “We got a text,” like he’s on British Love Island .

This makes me smile. Hart hates those reality shows about dating and finding love. Me? I love them, mostly because they’re freaking hilarious.

“Read it, man. I’m driving.”

I grab my phone off the dash and open the team group text.

Knights (official team text)

The revised schedule for the next two weeks is here.

Wild Card Weekend. Knights number one seed. Rest and mental prep. Focus on self.

“Monday and Tuesday are done, so Wednesday …” I scroll to it. “ Light practice. Focus on fundamentals . We gotta be there at nine. Situational football drills, helmets only . Thursday, light practice and films nine to noon. Friday, walkthrough and recovery work if needed, nine to noon. Team meeting at one . Saturday, we’re supposed to watch the wild card game, and Sunday, we go in to review film with the coaches. Next week, it’s full speed for game prep for our very first playoff game.” I try to sound excited because it is fucking exciting, but right now, Lindsey breathing on her own is the most exciting thing in the world. “ Monday, opponent prep, study films, light practice. Helmets only focus on gameplay . Tuesday is our mandatory day off. Wednesday, full speed, high-intensity session, pads on. Clock management and pressure plays. Thursday, third down drills, Red zone offense, and defense pads on high intensity. Friday, final adjustments and walkthrough focus on execution, special teams, final film study. Saturday, a short walk-through rest and team dinner . Sunday, we win the league.”

“Does it say that we win the league?” Hudson chuckles.

“No, man, but it’s what’s gonna happen.”

He holds out his fist. “Fuck yeah, it is.”

I give it a tap.

With Lily sound asleep in bed, I decide it’s best to shower and clean off the hospital germs and smells that seem to get stuck in my throat from that place and feels almost like it’s suffocating me. Then I decide I need to read the letter I found packed in the bag of Lily’s things, hoping it may clear up some questions I have in my head.

After stepping into a pair of flannel pajama pants and brushing my teeth, I grab the letter and begin to read.

Dear Beau,

I don’t really know how to start this, so I guess I’ll just start where my heart is. I need you to know that no matter what happens between us—whether we figure out a way to work this co-parenting thing or if we don’t—I will always, always be grateful for you. For what we created together. For the piece of both of us that will grow into someone incredible.

But I need to be honest with you, and I need you to hear me when I say this: I don’t see us working out in the way most people would expect. Not in the traditional sense. I know, deep down, you’ve always known that, too. And I hate that. I hate that I can’t give you that family you crave, but it doesn’t mean you’re not the best father for our little flower—you are. But just because we aren’t, that doesn’t mean I don’t care.

It doesn’t mean I don’t love you in my own way.

And maybe this sounds strange, maybe even selfish, but there’s something I need from you. Something that’s been sitting heavy on my chest for a while now.

If anything ever happened to me—if I wasn’t here anymore, if life did what life sometimes does and took me away too soon—I need you to allow yourself to go after love in the way you do an endzone, or a red velvet cupcake. The kind of love that feels safe, steady, and certain. The kind of love that lights up a room when you walk into it. The kind that doesn’t feel like settling.

Because our daughter … she’s going to grow up watching you. She’s going to learn from you. She’s going to see the way her Daddy loves and believe that’s what love is supposed to look like. And I want her to see it in its best form. I want her to see you happy. I want her to know what it means to be adored. Not just because of words, but because of actions.

She deserves that example. And you deserve that love. Even if it’s not from me.

I know this letter might hurt. And for that, I’m sorry. But please, don’t ever mistake this for me not believing in you. You are an incredible father. Always have been. And while I might not be the person standing next to you in the way we both tried to imagine, I will always be in your corner. Always.

For you. For her. For the love I know you’ll show her, whether it comes from me or from someone else one day.

With love,

Red

A three-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker couldn’t crush me as badly as this letter does, and it gets no better, no easier, after reading it the third time.

More questions … I have so many more fucking questions. Did she do this on purpose? Did she try to kill herself? Run into the tree on purpose?

The bathroom door flies open as I back away, tears streaming and crumpled-up letter in hand.

“Beau,” comes out in the sweetest whisper right before arms wrap around me. “Do you want me to get Hudson? Tell me what to do to help.”

“Stay like this. Fuck.” I sniff back tears. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Did you get a call?”

“No.” I tighten my fist, making the paper crinkle even more. “I got a fucking letter.” I clear my throat as I step back and hand it to her, then turn to rinse my face and blow my nose.

“Do you want me to?—”

“Read it. Read it and talk it through with me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Hudson or Riley?”

“Hudson needs his head in the game, and Riley’s pregnant.” And even if none of that were true, I’d still want it to be you.

I stand there and watch her read, watch tears fill those beautiful blue eyes of hers, watch that bow-shaped bottom lip stick out and quiver, and her hands shake right before she holds the letter to her chest. “Beau, I?—”

“Do you think she did this on purpose? Did she want to die? To leave Lily?”

She looks at the paper again. “That’s not at all how I read this.” She shakes her head and looks up at me. “The date is January 31 st ; maybe it’s an end-of-a-year or era thing?”

I run my hand through my hair and shake my head as I walk toward the door and open it. “I don’t think so. That’s not her style. But if she had, she would have given it to me.”

“Maybe she planned on it?” she asks as she follows me out.

“Where did you find it?” I ask as I quietly peek in to make sure Lily is still sleeping.

“Her nightstand drawer.”

I glance back at her as she now follows me down the stairs. “Her nightstand drawer?”

“I was concerned she may have something private in there that her parents shouldn’t see.”

“Private?” I ask as I stop and wave my hand in front of me for her to go ahead into the kitchen.

“Some girls keep B-O-Bs in their nightstand.”

“Vibrators?” I ask.

Her face catches fire. “Yeah.”

I want to ask if she has one in her nightstand; I bet it’s pink.

“So,” she says, walking past me, setting the letter on the counter, and heading to the fridge, “do you want to talk about how you’re feeling?”

“All I want is to make sure Lily gets through this with as little emotional damage as possible.”

She points to one of the bar stools, telling me to sit, and I do just that.

“You’re angry,” she says, pulling out a massive wooden board covered in some baker-type paper. When she uncovers it, I see the board is shaped like a football.

“Less hangry right now. What is all this?”

“You’ll have a busy week between practice, the hospital, and Lily time. This is one less stress. You can stick to your nutritional plan while still in season and on the go.”

“The fact someone has not swooped you up already is insane.”

She ignores me as she points to one section of the board, covered in thick cuts of grilled chicken, turkey roll-ups, beef jerky bites, and hard-boiled eggs. “Protein for strength and recovery.” She points to another section. “Complex carbs for energy.” She points to the cheese and grains. “For gains.” She points to another section. “Healthy fats. I don’t know how you feel about avocado, but I know Hudson likes them, so there’s extra. There are fruits and veggies for nutrition and hydration, and these dip down here for extra flavor, all healthy. The team nutritionist would approve.”

“Damn.”

“I want to offer to take Lily to school with me. I go in about half an hour before the students are allowed in, but if she’s with me, it’ll be okay.”

“Like a teacher’s kid,” I state.

She nods. “And after school, she can come hang with me at the shop until you’re done with practice. If you’re at the hospital, I can bring her to your place.”

“I could never ask that you?—”

“You didn’t ask, Beau—I’m offering.”

“If her grandparents show up at the school?—”

“If they’re not on the list, they won’t be given access.”

“Lindsey did all that; what if they are on the list?” I ask.

“What time do you need to be at the field tomorrow?” she asks.

“Nine.”

“Then I guess you and Lily are both coming with me to work, and you can look at her paperwork. And if you need to make changes, then you make changes. You could add me temporarily.”

“Why temporarily?” I cross my arms.

“When Lindsey gets better, she may not want?—”

“When Lindsey gets better, then she can have a say in who and who isn’t on a list of people I trust with our daughter.” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to chill. “Sorry, Cupcake, I need fucking answers.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks.

“Fuck yes, anything.” I lean forward and give her a hundred and ten percent of my attention.

“Prove to me you can actually say Sydney before I take you to my boss tomorrow, and you slip up and call me Cupcake.”

Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door.

I grab a couple olives and pop them in my mouth as I slide off the stool. With my back to her, I say, “brB, Sydney Marie Sparks.”

When I open the door, a cop is standing there. He takes his hat off and holds it in front of himself. “Good evening, Mr. Boone. I’m Officer Clark. I was told you’d called and asked for Ms. Bellemont’s belongings from the scene of the accident.”

“Yet I don’t see a bag with her belongings, and I’ve yet to be given an accident report,” I say, trying not to be a dick, but also pissed I don’t have information.

“Ms. Bellemont’s parents were given the information and her belongings.”

“Come again?” I ask.

“They’re her parents, her next of kin, they?—”

“Her next of kin is our daughter, who said prayers for her mother tonight on speaker with me while I was at the hospital sitting bedside.”

“I understand you’re upset. It’s a trying time. I?—”

“Derek, you’re a town cop. Lindsey’s accident was out of your jurisdiction, so why are you even involved?” Sydney says as she walks around and stands in front of me.

The officer looks down at her, eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business?—”

“Instead of me teaching you how to speak to a woman,” I cut the douchebag off, “and how not to, how about you just answer the question, as it is my business? And if Miss Sparks asks any other questions, I can assure you she’s speaking for me and my daughter.”

“When the accident was phoned in, I was closest. I was the first on the scene.”

“He asked for a report. He asked for her belongings,” Sydney snaps at him.

And it hits me. “Syd, is this cop your ex?”

She looks up at me and rolls her eyes.

“Understood. I appreciate you taking up arms for me. You’ll always get the same, Cupcake.” I pull her into my side. “As much as I want answers, I know damn well I’m not getting them from you. I know exactly why you stopped here. Take a good hard look at what you lost, and then turn and walk away.”

“This is nothing to me. Get the answers you and Lily need,” Syd says, sinking into my side in a way that makes me want to lift Cop Ken up by the neck and punt him down the driveway.

“I’ll have my lawyer contact the state and town boys. I’m not playing with the po-po-ratzzi.”

I shut the door in his face.

“Beau, get answers.”

“I stand there and look at that asshole, knowing he’s only here to get a glimpse of you, and I’m likely to rip his head off and shit down his throat.”

“Everything he said seems off,” she says, walking back to the kitchen, and I follow and watch that fine, fine ass sway back and forth as she does.

“This whole thing seems off,” I say as I walk over and grab the letter.

“I think her telling you she wants you to find love in a way she can’t give you is?—”

“What did he do?” I cut her off.

“He cheated.”

“He cheated himself by doing that, dumb fuck.” I grab a turkey roll and take a bite. “Does he make it a habit to follow you around?”

“The first six months after I called the wedding off, he made it a point to pull me over every time I went to work. Eventually, I quit to avoid it.”

“That’s harassment,” I growl.

“It’s over now.”

“Tell me you sued him and the department.”

“I threatened, and all charges were dropped; that’s all I cared about.”

I shake my head. “No, that’s?—”

“He didn’t come out of our breakup unscathed, either. As much of a dick as he is, and the fact that he was the one who cheated, he was hurt, too.”

“I know you’re a smart girl, so I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, for one day I would love to know more.”

She looks me over, considering me for a moment. “Part of me would love to give you that, because I think, right now, that’s what you need—to borrow someone else’s troubles—and I don’t blame you one bit. So, if you want me to slice myself open, I will do that for you, for Lily’s daddy, for the man who Lindsey loves and admires enough to tell him she’s not enough. It’s not you, Boone. Something’s hitting her, and if your suspicions are right, which I don’t believe they are, we all have got to help her heal physically and emotionally.”

“You’re staying here tonight.”

She nods. “Might as well.”

“I wasn’t asking, cupcake,” I wink, and yes, she blushes. “Don’t want you driving on shit roads when that punk is out there.”