Page 8 of October (New Orleans #10)

“A re you still going to pretend you don’t like football and don’t know anything about the Saints?” Juliet asked.

“I can’t exactly go back on that, can I?” Molly replied. “What would I even say to her? I pretended not to be a fan and know stuff about football for no reason?”

“You could just start by telling her that it wasn’t for no reason,” Juliet suggested. “It was because you liked her, and she made you nervous, so you didn’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, and then she shows up to work tomorrow with India on her arm and sits down next to me, feeling sorry for me because I like her and she’s back with her gorgeous ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh, Molls,” Juliet replied and wrapped her arm around Molly’s shoulders.

“So, we’re supposed to pretend that you don’t know anything about football?” Gwen asked.

“Yes, I’d really appreciate that. Thank you for your support, Gwen,” Molly replied as they approached their gate.

They were meeting Finley and Rusty, along with his wife, whom neither Juliet nor Molly had met.

There, Finley would give them their tickets, and they’d go inside together.

Molly had worn a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, hoping that would help her fit in with the crowd, which was predominantly in black and gold.

She hadn’t lied about not having a Saints’ jersey.

She’d never bought one, not seeing the point because she was a fan from her couch.

This was actually Molly’s first home game, and it was hard to pretend that she wasn’t excited because this was a big deal.

She’d grown up a Saints fan. She remembered the Super Bowl they had won right after Hurricane Katrina and how much it had meant to the city that was still rebuilding.

Her dad had introduced her to football, but her mom was a big fan as well, and they’d spent many Sundays watching games in the living room together.

Her mom would make three or four different dips, her dad would buy all the chips in the store, and they’d snack until it was time to cook.

Then, he and her mother would cook lunch or dinner, depending on the time of the game.

They would try to time eating around halftime unless it was a big game and everyone needed to sit down and watch and not cook.

Then, they’d all clean up together after the game.

Molly still thought back on those days and smiled.

When Finley had first talked about football, it had been with Juliet, but Molly had been there as well, and Finley had asked if she was a fan.

For whatever reason, Molly had said no, and now, she was stuck with the lie, or she’d have to tell Finley that she hadn’t been truthful and give her the reason why, or tell another lie, which she didn’t want to do.

Molly smiled when she saw Finley standing by the entrance with Rusty and a woman wearing a Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ jersey. Finley looked up and smiled at her. No, she smiled at all of them. Juliet and Gwen were included in that smile, too, probably. It couldn’t have just been aimed at her.

“Hey,” Finley said to her.

“Hi,” Molly replied.

“Hey, Jules. Good trip?” Finley asked.

“Great trip,” Juliet replied with a smile. “This is my girlfriend, Gwen. Gwen, this is Finley and Rusty. We work together.”

“And this is my wife, Emily,” Rusty said. “But you can pretend you don’t know her, if you want. She’s wearing a Bucs’ jersey.”

“Hi,” Emily spoke through her light laughter. “Sorry, Bucs’ fan for life.”

“It’s fine. We’ll be inclusive for the day,” Finley replied. “But only if the Saints kick your ass.”

Emily laughed, and with Finley distracted by the conversation, Molly took her in.

Finley was wearing a pair of jeans and a black jersey with the number seven on the front.

She was also wearing a Saints’ baseball hat with the fleur-de-lis on it.

She looked like the perfect, casual-but-not-so-casual fan, unlike some of the others who had on face paint and sometimes, went topless and spelled out the name of the team on their chests.

That had her thinking about Finley’s chest and wondering how her small breasts would fit in her hands.

“Molls?”

“Huh?”

“Um… I brought you this.” Finley held out a jersey in her hand. “If you don’t want to wear it, you don’t have to.”

“You brought this for me?” she asked, taking the jersey from her. “Is this India’s?”

“She never wore a jersey, so–” Finley stopped, and her eyes went somewhere. “You can just keep this one. I don’t need two,” she added and pulled on the jersey.

Molly couldn’t tell what she was doing. Then, Finley’s hand disappeared into her pocket, and she smiled at her.

“Keep it? These things are expensive. Over a hundred bucks for an official one.”

“How do you know how expensive football jerseys are?” Finley asked.

“Just a guess.” Molly cleared her throat and pulled the jersey on over her T-shirt. “We’re in a stadium. I assume everything is expensive here and that they’re charging a lot for jerseys, too. Ow!”

She looked down as she felt a sharp, almost-slice over her hip. There was a piece of plastic attached to the jersey there that looked like it had been part of a price tag. Molly looked up at Finley in confusion.

“We should head inside,” Finley said, turning away from her.

“Did she just buy that for you?” Gwen whispered as they walked toward the gate to hand their tickets to the agent there.

“I’m sure the tag was just still on it from India.”

“I doubt it. The way she was acting, yanking that price tag off it and shoving it into her pocket, she wouldn’t have done that if she’d bought it for someone else,” Juliet offered.

Molly looked down at the jersey she now wore and did her best to tuck the plastic piece she couldn’t get off without the scissors into her jeans so that it wouldn’t scrape her skin.

Then, she walked on. Finley handed her the ticket and let her walk in first, getting it scanned and going through security.

Once their whole group was through, Rusty and Emily went to join the beer line, Juliet and Gwen wanted to pee before the game started, and Finley stood there waiting with Molly.

“Want to grab some food?” Finley asked. “That way, we don’t have to get up later.”

“Um… Sure,” she replied.

She followed Finley, who seemed to know where she was going, but with the crowd, she lost her twice before finding her again.

Finally, Finley reached her hand back for Molly to take, and Molly took it without second thought.

In the moment, it wasn’t because she wanted to hold Finley’s hand.

It was because she didn’t want to lose her in the crowd again.

It was just practical. But after a few seconds of Finley pulling her through the busy stadium, Finley linked their fingers as if to make their connection stronger, and Molly thought about what that would feel like if they were actually here on a date or as a couple.

She thought about how nice it would’ve been to be able to be the big fan that she was with the woman who was also a big fan, and how she would’ve loved to have Finley hold on to her from behind as they stood in the food line.

Then, they arrived at the line Finley wanted, and she looked down for a second at their joined hands before she let it go, and Molly felt its absence.

“So, they have hamburgers, hot dogs, nachos, and pizza here. I thought it had the most options. Oh, and fries; really good garlic fries and plain ones, too. Plus, you can get beer from this one. Do you want a beer? I don’t think they have any other alcohol here, but there’s wine and–”

“Beer is good,” Molly interrupted. “What are you getting?”

“I’ll be spending my entire paycheck on a beer, nachos, and a hot dog.”

Molly laughed and asked, “What about those garlic fries you said were so good?”

“Those are for halftime. I’m not getting jalapenos on my nachos in case you want to share.”

“You don’t like them?”

“No, I do. I thought you might not, and I like to share.”

Molly smiled and replied, “You can get extra jalapenos, then.”

“Really?”

“I’m from New Orleans, Fin. You think I can’t handle a little spice?”

“Some people can’t.”

“Well, I’m not some people, I guess,” Molly replied as they moved up in line.

“Okay. Extra jalapenos, then. What are you getting?”

“I’m thinking a hot dog,” she said. “And stealing some of your nachos,” she added.

Finley laughed.

“Oh, and a beer.”

“No garlic fries?” Finley asked.

“Apparently, those are halftime snacks.”

A few minutes later, they made their way to the front of the line, where Finley ordered everything for both of them and handed over her credit card.

Molly had her own card out, ready to pay for her food, but Finley shook her off with a smile.

Then, they carried their food over to the condiment stand, and Molly added mustard to her hot dog.

She watched Finley add mustard, ketchup, and relish.

They both grabbed some napkins and walked back to their section, where they met Rusty and Emily.

Juliet and Gwen were already in their seats and, somehow, had gotten themselves each a beer, likely in one of the shorter, beer-only lines.