Chapter Forty-Four
Payton
I did my best to comfort Dax as he worked through the loss of Gram, and I felt a huge hole in our lives as we moved through the rituals of mourning and tried to get ready for the next game between the Storm and the Saints. When Sunday rolled around, Dax and I were up early and at the stadium hours before the fans were scheduled to be let in. There were a few groundskeepers doing last minute maintenance work on the Storm logo in the end zone, but aside from that, the stadium was silent and empty.
“She loved being part of all of this,” Dax said as we walked out on to the empty field.
“She loved you and she loved being part of your life,” I said reaching out to twine my fingers through his. I could feel the weight of his loss and I, although I’d suffered my own losses, I didn’t know how to ease the pain he was feeling in any way except to be near him. “You brought her so much joy, Dax.”
“She loved you, too, you know,” he said, looking over at me. I swallowed my grief, and nodded as I squeezed his hand. He pulled me into his arms as he whispered, “I think she knew I was going to be okay.”
“I’m sure of it,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around his waist. I knew that grief had a tendency to push people toward feelings that, under normal circumstances, they might not ordinarily feel. It happened to me after Daddy died, and I knew it would be a mistake to get caught up in an emotional whirlwind brought about by loss, but I also knew that during the months since Dax and I had signed our contract, things had changed. I wasn’t sure what this meant in terms of our future, but one thing I was certain of was that he was a good man.
“Do you think we’ll win today?” he asked. I chuckled at the abrupt shift in the conversation.
“I’m certain of it,” I said, leaning back so I could look up at him. “We’ve got the best team in the league, and they’ve got Gram on their side. How could we lose?”
“Well then, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” he said leaning down to give me a quick kiss. I took his hand and together we climbed to the top of the stadium.
Several hours later, we sat chatting with the Storm guests in the skybox. The room was full of people who’d known Gram and Pop, and Dax had had a photo of his grandparents framed and hung on the wall above the bar. I’d quietly asked the bartender to make a Manhattan and find one can of PBR to set under the photo, and when Dax saw the tribute, he’d smiled.
Before the game started, the Storm players took the field and stood in a long line, holding their helmets while the stadium announcer read a statement they’d written. “The Storm would like to acknowledge the passing of Eleanor Connor, owner Dax Connor’s grandmother. She was their biggest fan and most ardent supporter, and she will be missed. Today, the Storm would like to dedicate the game to her memory and would ask that their fans donate to the library fund they’ve set up in her memory. It was an honor and a privilege to know Gram Connor, may she rest in peace.” As the announcer finished, every member of the Storm team raised his helmet toward the bright-blue December sky and looked upward as the fans burst into applause and jumped to their feet.
“See? How could they lose?” I whispered as I turned to see Dax staring out at the field with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face.
The game was an exciting matchup between two extremely competitive teams, and the Saints proved to be formidable opponents. During the first half, the Storm scored two touchdowns and the Saints quickly tied the score each time. At the half, both teams ran off the field into their respective locker rooms as the crowd roared. At the start of the second half, Nick sent Johnny Riggs back in, but when he took a hard hit late in the third quarter, he was quickly replaced with McKenzie. The two quarterbacks bumped fists as they traded places, and I watched as McKenzie took control of the huddle and called the play.
The Storm pressed forward toward the goal line, but the Saints stopped them before they could get within scoring range. Neither team scored in the third quarter, and as the fourth quarter drew to a close, it looked like the game would end in a tie. On the sidelines, I could see the defense huddling together as McKenzie and his offensive line took the field for the last time. As they settled into formation, the defensive players formed a circle and began clapping in rhythm as they repeated a cheer we couldn’t hear up in the skybox.
McKenzie took the ball, dropped back far behind the line, and looked for an opening. The Saints’ defense fought to bring him down, but the Storm players maintained a line of protection as McKenzie searched for, and then found, an opening. He launched the ball in a high arc and I watched as it spiraled in the air, heading straight for the open arms of Jamal Williams, who plucked it out of the air, tucked his chin to his chest, and plowed through the waiting defensive players to score!
The crowd went wild as the Storm offense flooded the end zone slapping Williams and high fiving each other. I looked over to see Dax wiping his eyes and then looking upward with a big smile on his face.
“Kind of like this football thing, don’t you?” I whispered as I slipped my arm through his and leaned against him.
“Yeah, kinda,” he grinned.