Claire
DROPPING MR. RYNQUIEST off at his suite, I stop in and make sure that everyone is comfortable and has their hearts’ desires, then I head on up to check on Mr. Mara and his guests. His granddaughter Rooney is in attendance today with the man she’s seeing. I have to admit, I like Rooney Mara. She’s feisty, quirky, and knows her football, as she should. She too comes from two of the biggest football families, and we have known each other for years.
Thinking about Jackson’s parting words both excites and scares me. I technically haven’t been avoiding him. I’ve just been busy. Picking up the slack at the Foundation in Zoey’s absence hasn’t been easy. The woman did not slow down in the slightest and had a full calendar of meetings that couldn’t be put off.
Plus, last week Brad came into my office and informed me that he was adding a few more VIPs to this week’s game. I was ever accommodating and refused to allow him the satisfaction of knowing that meant I had to shuffle existing suite owners around. It also cost me several favors that I had been holding on to.
I don’t even want to think about what is going on with Sasha. She has gone MIA and isn’t returning my calls or texts. She is still interning with the team three days a week, but anytime I see her she literally walks in the other direction. She is still carrying a full load at school. I checked. Yes, I’m that mom. And stops by every day to spend time with Zoey, Mackenzie and Christopher. It appears that my loving child is avoiding only me.
Walking into the suite, I’m surprised to see Zoey and Suzie here. What. The. Fuck! I make a beeline for my sister and grab her arm, turning her toward me. “Where are the babies?”
Yanking her arm out of my grasp, Zoey looks at me and snarls, “Suz’s mom has them. I’m leaving at halftime. I needed to be here for Derrick.”
Christ, she knows how my mind works. Answered my questions before I could get them out.
“I need to talk to you before you head out.”
“Hey, Claire, what’s up? I haven’t really seen you lately. Did Zo tell you that Mom has all of the kids today?”
“Just did,” I say in annoyance.
Leaning into me, Zoey touches my arm and says, “Sorry, I’m on edge with leaving them for the first time. What do you want to talk about?”
I shake my head to let her know that now isn’t the time or place, and I walk away to check on Mr. Mara and his guests.
THE DAY GOT away from me. I had wanted to leave by the third quarter, but fucking Brad called me—while I was in the owner’s suite—and insisted that I help his VIPS, i.e. his drunk prep school buddies to their car. I learned that while giving Mr. Rynquiest a tour of the locker room and field. I have filed that away for a later date. Abuse of the suites is a major no-no.
That little detour set my escape back by an entire quarter and earned me multiple bruises from the handsy bastards. Sitting in traffic and about to call Zoey, my phone starts ringing.
“Hel—”
“What are you doing right now? I have to tell you something and you should really be sitting for it.” My sister cuts me off.
“I’m in the car, Zo.”
A hesitant chuckle escapes Zoey as she begins. “A captive audience. Good. Okay, so first of all, you do know that I love you, right?
“Yes, Zoey, I know that and I love you too.”
Zoey is hemming and hawing and it sets my nerves on edge. Which only makes my crappy day turn to shit.
“So, yeah, well…”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Zoey, spit it out already.”
With a deep breath, my sister proceeds to blow my mind. “You know Sash is dancing at a strip club, right?”
My foot slips off the brake and I lurch forward before I slam on the brake again. “I’m sorry? What? Is this a fucking joke, Zo?” I maneuver my little Prius Hybrid over to the shoulder. “You know what, hold on a second. Let me pull over. Because having a fucking captive audience is different than telling your sister that her child is stripping while she’s operating heavy machinery! What the fuck, Zoey.”
Coming to a complete stop on the shoulder, I carry on with my rant, “No, Zoey, I wasn’t aware that Sasha is dancing. God damn it, I should have never allowed those ballet classes.” I drop my head onto the steering wheel and bang my forehead against it once, twice, and a third time before I admit in a whisper, “Sash isn’t talking to me. But this explains why she’s been avoiding me.”
“I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? Your daughter, the only other person in this world you smother more than me, isn’t speaking to you? You’re relentless when it comes to our girl, Claire.” Zoey pauses and I bang my head on the steering wheel a couple more times. “Just as an FYI, Sasha has been dancing at Lace for over a month.”
“What! Christ, this isn’t a hypothetical, you’re really telling me that my kid is dancing at a fucking strip joint?” Throwing my head back onto the headrest, I berate myself for being a shitty mother.
“Claire, you do realize that this is her way of rebelling.”
“Thank you for the insight, Zoey. You’ve been a mother for like what, two fucking minutes!”
“Language! And fuck you, I helped raise that kid too.”
“Obviously, the tattoos and stripping are all you.”
“Again, fuck you. God don’t like ugly, Claire. Remember that.”
“Whatever!”
“Sasha’s been so angry since Mac passed. She loved the old man. Add in her confusion toward life in general, and this is her way of rebelling. And quite frankly, her new boss seems to be messing with her head. I need to have Suz check into that one, because my skin crawls when he’s around.”
Taking a deep breath, Zoey continues. “You just have to ignore it, Claire. Pretend as though it doesn’t even affect you. Otherwise you’re going to push her even further away. She’s too much like you in that regard.”
“Thank you, Zoey, but the fact that you want me to ignore Sash taking her clothes off for…for…Christ, is it for a living or for fucking fun? Regardless, I can’t ignore it. No, I’m sorry, Zo, that’s just not something that I am capable of!” I’m now screaming at my sister and garnering attention from passing cars.
Zoey’s voice is calm, and that’s when I know I need to look for traps. “Claire, if you don’t, you’re going to lose her.”
“Tell me, Zoey. Why are you the one telling me this, and over the phone?”
“I love you, Claire. You know this. But, I’m a new mother and have two babies that need both their mother and father. So, there was no way on this earth I was going to tell you this in person.”
“Fucking coward!”
“You bet your ass I am.”
“You think this is funny? That Sasha’s life is a joke?” I am now full on screaming.
“Bear, just calm down.”
“Calm down? CALM DOWN! I don’t think you realize the severity of this! The embarrassment! Christ, that’s all we need. A McEvoy stripping.” Taking a deep breath, I hear my sister laughing. “Are you laughing? Zoey! This isn’t fucking funny.”
Hiding her amusement, poorly, Zoey says, “No, Claire, this isn’t funny.”
“I have the new VP pushing my buttons at work. Jackson is coming by tonight to finish what we started weeks ago, and now my kid is stripping. What did I do wrong!” I slam my head against the steering wheel again in the hope that it completes the damage my sister’s words have just inflected.
“I’m sorry. I’m ignoring all but the Jack is coming by to fuck you comment. Hold on a sec, okay? I’m gonna conference Suz in.” Giggling, Zoey clicks over and I’m put on hold.
I hit my head again on the steering wheel and pray for brain damage, because honestly, I couldn’t make this shit up.