Chapter Thirty-Six
Payton
Sunday dawned bright and beautiful, and I felt exponentially better than I had the day before when I’d stayed in bed sleeping off the hangover from Friday night. I knew I’d made an ass of myself at Black Jack and that I had left Dax confused about what was going on, but I didn’t know how to talk to him about what I was feeling. He didn’t understand my deep connection to football or my family, and I didn’t trust that he could listen to what had happened between my mother and I without being extremely judgmental, so I put my walls up and went to find some coffee.
“Feeling better this morning?” Dax asked as I stood at the kitchen counter making myself a cup of espresso.
“Much better, thank you,” I said without turning around adding, “And thank you for Friday night. I’m sorry I ruined it.”
“You didn’t,” he said. His voice was so soft that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. I turned and found him standing right behind me.
“Oh! You scared me!” I gasped as I looked up at him and saw concern in his dark eyes. “You shouldn’t do that when I’m making hot coffee.”
“Payton, what’s going on?” he asked. “Is there something I can help you with? You don’t have to be afraid to ask, you know. If I can help, I will.”
“I know. Thank you,” I said, lowering my eyes so that he couldn’t see my shame and confusion. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said taking my hand and slipping his fingers under my chin so that he could lift my face. “I’m not an ogre.”
“I never said you were,” I replied as I focused on his lips so that I wouldn’t have to see the worry in his eyes.
“Then why won’t you talk to me? We started out so well,” he said before dryly adding, “Breakfast negotiations notwithstanding.”
“It’s not that,” I said, forcing a smile so that he’d know that I, too, was trying. “It’s just that there are things you don’t understand about me. Family things. Sports things. I don’t know how to explain them so that you will.”
“And I will repeat myself,” he said. “Try me.”
“How can you possibly understand when you don’t even like football!” I cried as I twisted away from him and moved down the counter. “I can’t explain my love for the game and my family’s team any more than I can explain the color blue. It’s a feeling I get when I watch a quarterback throw a perfect spiral pass or when a wide receiver tucks the ball into his midsection and breaks into a dead run for the goal. It’s the way the fans stay in their seats until the last play and then cheer for their team. How do I explain that to someone who just doesn’t give a damn?”
“I do give a damn,” he said softly. “I just don’t have the same connection to it as you do.”
“I know. For you, it’s an investment,” I said glumly. “For me, it’s a lifestyle. It’s my passion, Dax. I don’t know how to convey how much of a passion this is for me. It’s not just about status or money; those things are important, but when you get down to it, this is about the game.”
He stood staring at me until the espresso machine began steaming, and then he turned and flipped the switch, letting the water flow while he grabbed the steel pitcher from the sink and poured some milk into it. He didn’t say a word as he focused on steaming the milk. When he was done, he poured the espresso shot into a mug and topped it with the milk, drawing a small heart in the foam. He handed me the mug and then turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Several hours later, we entered the skybox at the Storm stadium and found Gram already sitting in one of the leather club chairs.
“What took you two so long to get here?” she asked as she studied our faces. “And what’s wrong with you? You look like someone killed your dog.”
“Hi, Gram,” Dax said bending down to kiss her cheek. “Glad to see you, too.”
“Oh, stop it,” she scolded kissing, him and then gently patting his cheek. “You can’t fool me, kid. You never could.”
“I know,” he nodded as he looked around and spied something that caught his attention. “I’ll be right back.”
We watched him exit the skybox and then Gram patted the chair next to her and said, “Come sit down, Payton. We need to have a talk, you and me.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I don’t know, you tell me,” she said sternly. I could feel the weight of everything building up inside me, and I wanted so much to unburden myself, but I wasn’t sure I should tell Gram. I didn’t want her to reject me, too.
“Dax and I…” I began and then a wave of emotions rolled through me and started the tears. “I don’t know what to do, Gram. I fought with my mother and she’s basically disowned me, and now Dax is upset because I can’t explain what’s happening, but he doesn’t understand football. He doesn’t even like it!”
“Shhh, there, there,” Gram said as she pulled me to her and patted my head. “Honey, my grandson is one of the best men I’ve ever known, but sometimes he can be a real jackass. He’s afraid of what he doesn’t understand. Most people are, you know.”
“But I want to share things with him,” I said, sitting up and wiping my eyes. “He says he wants to hear them, but I don’t think he does. If he knew what was going on between my mother and I, he’d flip out. And he doesn’t understand that the Bears aren’t just a team, they’re part of my blood.”
“I know you think he can’t understand, but that’s not true, Payton,” Gram said. “David is a stubborn boy, but he’s got a good heart. Keep trying. He’ll get it one of these days.”
I nodded knowing that Gram didn’t understand the whole situation between Dax and I, and I wasn’t about to try and explain our unconventional contract. She thought we were really in love, and I was starting to wonder whether there wasn’t a kernel of truth to that, but there was no way I was going to broach the subject with Dax while he was stubbornly interviewing GM prospects and I continued doing the job. If we were going to have that discussion, he’d have to meet me half way, and I didn’t see that happening, despite all of his offers to listen to my tale of woe.
Dax wasn’t back by the kick off, so Gram and I cheered and shouted as the Storm tried their hardest to rise to the occasion and beat the Packers. It was a tough game, and the trainers carried more than a few of the players on both sides off after particularly hard hits. Gram and I winced as Johnny Riggs was sacked again and again.
“Why the hell doesn’t the defense wake up and protect him?” Gram shouted as Riggs was taken down yet again. I watched as he lay on the ground for a moment, and then rolled over and took the hand of one of the Storm’s offense and pulled himself up to a standing position.
“Gram, that doesn’t look good,” I murmured as I watched Riggs shake his head a few times trying to get his bearings. “I hope Nick pulls him and has the doctor look at him.”
“That son of a bitch wouldn’t pull his own mother from a game if it meant losing the edge,” she spat with contempt. “I told David not to hire him. He’s a mean man with a small—”
“Gram!” Dax said as he reentered the skybox. “You can’t say those things in front of other people!”
“Why not?” Gram protested. “It’s not like Payton doesn’t think the same thing, right?”
I grinned and raised my hands in surrender, letting Dax know I wasn’t going to contradict his own grandmother. He laughed and said, “Still, you can’t say that stuff about our team!”
“Please,” Gram said waving him off. “Get me another Manhattan!”
Dax brought her a drink and we watched as the Storm was beaten by the Green Bay Packers 28-0. It was a humiliating defeat coming off the two previous wins, but at least it was to the Packers, the legendary NFL champs. Still, the loss stung, and Gram was muttering under her breath as we exited the stadium.
“You two come for dinner this week,” Gram called as she slid into the backseat of her waiting car and waved.
On the ride home, Dax looked over and said, “Dinner at Gram’s this week, then?”
“Can’t exactly say no to her, can we?” I smiled as I reached out and took his hand. He smiled and squeezed my fingers lightly as we sped back to the penthouse.