Chapter 35 - Max
It takes me three weeks to work up the courage to hand in my notice to my father. Quitting the family business is not something I thought I’d ever do, and by the look on my dad’s face, he never thought I’d do it either.
But I have to do it.
Once Naomi left, what else was there to do? It’s like she opened my eyes to what I was putting up with, to the mental games that my parents play. She made me realize how crazy this life really is. Why would I keep working for the company that tried to control my life like that?
I finally grow a pair. I’m a grown man, for Christ’s sake. I can find a job on my own. If my parents cut me out of their will, then they cut me out. It’s not worth living my entire life on a short leash just to get a payout.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know Naomi would be proud of me. She hasn’t spoken to me since the day at her apartment, but the thought of her being happy for me gives me the courage to quit. Maybe I just tell myself that to make myself feel better, but it still helps me go through with the resignation.
My father’s face is grim when I give him my notice. He takes the envelope from me, staring at it for a few minutes. He purses his lips and shakes his head.
“Is this because of the girl?”
“No. Well, maybe. I just need to be my own man, Dad. I thought you’d understand that.”
He nods slowly. “There will always be a place for you here,” he says as he shakes my hand. My chest feels tight, and a lump forms in my throat. I nod.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“What are you going to do?”
I sigh. “I’m not sure yet. I want to pursue a career in football. If I’m not playing, I can still coach. I’ve got lots of contacts from college.”
My dad extends his hand towards me. “I’m proud of you, son,” he says. He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me towards him, wrapping me in an unexpected hug. “You remind me of myself when I was your age.”
“Just wait to see how I turn out before you say you’re proud,” I laugh. He grins at me, and the tightness in my chest eases.
A couple weeks later, when I walk out of the building on my last day, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I know it was the right decision. And if I ever see Naomi again, I’ll thank her for giving me the courage to do it.
“So I heard you’re all finished up at daddy’s company!” Graham asks as I walk into Joel’s living room. It’s Sunday, and me and the boys are all here to hang out and watch the games.
I fall onto the couch, grabbing the beer that Connor hands me. “Yep. Last day was Friday.”
Joel whistles. “He’s finally cutting the apron strings, boys,” he laughs. “I’m happy for you, man.”
“What are you going to do?” Graham asks. He tosses me a bag of chips and turns down the volume on the TV.
I shrug. “Been talking to my old college football coach. He said he might be able to get me on as an assistant coach for next season. Spring training starts in a couple months, so the timing would be good.”
“Nice,” Connor says, nodding. “Sounds like a good gig.”
“Yeah, it will be. I walked into the athletics building at college last week to talk to him and it was like coming home. I spent so many hours in that building. It’ll be nice to be around football again,” I say. “I missed it.”
“If your knee is better, you should join our rec team,” Connor says. “You won’t have that excuse anymore.”
I grin. “It’s not quite there yet, but maybe in the fall.” I haven’t found a physical therapist since Naomi, and progress on my knee has stalled. Even doing the exercises she showed me reminds me of her, and most days I avoid doing them.
None of my friends mention Naomi, which I’m grateful for. They haven’t mentioned her since the weekend after it ended between her and I. The boys took me out for the weekend and got me completely wasted, and then helped to nurse my sorry, hungover self back to health with Gatorade and greasy breakfasts.
It seems like it all happened a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few weeks. My heart was just as shattered as my knee. It’s recovering slowly, but it’s recovering.
Eventually, the rawness of the whole ordeal fades. My heart still skips a beat when I see a redhead in the street, or at the bar, or at the grocery store, but it doesn’t hammer against my ribs quite so hard as it used to. I make it through the holidays without too many reminders of Naomi. My parents make a few comments that sting, but I try to ignore them.
I end up telling my dad that the private investigator was wrong about Naomi, and the acquisition of Jerry’s company still goes through. I don’t tell them my engagement was fake, only that we broke up because of the whole misunderstanding.
I don’t know why I don’t tell them the full truth. Maybe it seems wrong to reduce my time with Naomi to just a business arrangement. Even after everything, I don’t want them to think that it was all fake.
Or maybe, it’s me that doesn’t want to think that. I want to believe that what we had was real. I want to believe that when she accidentally told me she loved me, it meant something.
I end up getting the job as an assistant coach at my old college, and come spring, we start the pre-season training in full force. By the beginning of March, I’m back on the gridiron, running practices and feeling the familiar buzz of energy that comes with sports and competition.
Coach Carter pats me on the shoulder after one of the first practices, grinning.
“Good to have you back,” he says.
I nod. “It feels good to be here. Thanks for taking a chance on me.”
“You were a good player, and you’ll be a good coach,” he says. He looks me in the eye as a lump forms in my throat. We nod to each other, then he walks towards the locker rooms with the team.
I look around the stadium, up at the stands that will soon be full of fans, and I breathe in the crisp spring air. It feels good to be back. It feels good to be free of my parents, to be doing something for me. Who knows, maybe in a couple years I’ll be a head coach. For the first time in a long time, the future is exciting.
I look up and down the field and let out a sigh before turning towards the locker rooms.
It’s exciting to be here and it feels good to finally be my own man, but I know it would feel a lot better if I had someone to share it with. I pick up a water bottle that one of the players dropped, shaking my head to clear those thoughts.
I can’t think like that. I have to keep moving forward.