Charlotte

It’s always hard watching Lowell leave because I’ll miss him and because he has the best ass, and I hate when he covers it up. I haven’t slept in a bed with a man ever, not even with him before. It’s all I want to do, but I have to think of Kimberly first.

I have to admit I was pissed at him earlier, but then I thought of all the mistakes I made in the beginning and saw he truly cared and regretted it. If Kimberly forgives him, I do too. Except this promise of his to let her be on the sidelines, it’s scary to me, but if he thinks it’s fine, then I guess I trust him. To say I never imagined her cheering her dad on would be a lie—it was a passing thought five years ago, and now I think about it way too often.

After I walk Lowell out, I make myself a midnight snack of ice cream. My knees are wobbly as I walk back to my room. I eat and shower again before I check on Kimberly because I am restless. He riles me up and then I’m wide awake for a while after. She is still fast asleep under the covers, so I return to my room and do the only thing guaranteed to send me to sleep—read old expense reports. And then I’m out.

“Mommy, we can’t be late.” Kimberly has been bouncing up and down since she woke up this morning, and then off the walls after I told her Lowell confirmed her one request to watch the game on the sidelines. I have all the instructions in an email from who he said was an assistant to Jacob. I wonder why he didn’t ask Donnie before I remember what he had said to me, a bit glad Lowell isn’t too involved with him anymore.

“I know, I know.” I finish tying my hair back knowing the humidity won’t be nice. I’m lucky to have a team jersey from an old press event, and Kimberly is dressed the same. It might not be a coincidence that the team color is orange. Her scrunchie matches the lines down the side of her jeans. She’s very fashionable.

“It will mess up anyway.” Kimberly starts tugging on me then, and I truly do give up.

“Okay, let’s go.” I wish she was this excited to go to school.

I take her hand and leave my bedroom with her, grabbing my purse on the way out. The drive to the stadium isn’t long, but the traffic is insane. Home games in the city are crazy, especially since they are in the playoffs. Kimberly kicks against her seat in the back, not so patiently waiting. I don’t know if she is excited for her first football game in person or to be on the sidelines or to watch her dad play a game.

The only thing I worry about is the press. Lowell isn’t that public, but he makes headlines sometimes and especially now because his team is in the playoffs. I’m afraid of what it might do to Kimberly especially at school if pictures of her get out or even her name.

I know it will come with being with Lowell, and it might be the only thing keeping me from fully committing.

When I pass the east gate and relay the proper information, Kimberly and I wait by the lower gate until someone from the team comes by. A glorified manager, maybe. She’s young and very spirited with her orange painted hair and takes us down to the garage level of the place before we appear in the stadium again on the other side. We can look up at the stands and the crowd already there and players of each team running drills.

“Wow…” Kimberly tugs on my hand. I look down at her and smile. She looks so awestruck, it’s cute. Nothing makes her this excited anymore.

“This is so cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” I laugh. She cackles and starts to tug me along. The helpful team assistant even gives her a mini-tour as we walk—the press box, refill stations, and players’ benches. I don’t recognize any of them, not even the coaches, but know they are because of their windbreakers and headsets. It’s an early game, so it’s a little chilly, but I brought us both jackets just in case.

Some of the players and others on the field stop and stare, but I don’t think they’re looking because of Kimberly, their eyes are trained on me. Lowell either told some of his teammates or no one, that latter seems to be a better option. But I didn’t know I could still turn heads.

“You can sit here, most of the time no one even notices.” The woman smiles.

The section is small with three rows of about ten chairs. Some people are already seated there, and they look important and stuffy. It’s on a different tier from the other stands and right where the players would walk by for the water cases, or when offense and defense are off the field.

“See? You can see everything.” I sit next to Kimberly, who is already taking photos with her Polaroid camera. Catherine got it for her for Christmas last year, and I have never seen her use it until now.

“Yes.” She giggles then stops taking photos to look up at me. “Where is Daddy?” she asks.

I shrug. “Hmm.” I look out at the crowd all but scanning the bottom half of the players until I find the right ass and am surprised I’m right when I look closer. “There, number…” I pause, recognizing the number more than I thought I would. Thinking I’m wrong or reaching, but it makes sense because it wasn’t his number in college.

“Number fifteen.” I smile to myself. October fifteenth was the homecoming game back in college when he talked to me for the first time.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? You have to go potty already?”

I laugh. “No.” However, that is my signature—using the bathroom right when we arrive somewhere.

Lowell is engrossed in the drills he does with the wide receiver. I know he hasn’t been told we’ve arrived yet.

I forgot how much I don’t really like football games and how they drag out until it starts, and the first quarter lasts an hour.

“Mommy, help. Can’t do it.” Kimberly nudges me to help her with yet another pretzel. I never let her have anything fun. I can admit that after Lowell making it a point to, so I don’t protest, at least not today.

“Here.” I tear it apart and hand her pieces she chews quickly.

I haven’t seen her have this much fun in a long time. She doesn’t get excited about much, but she’s been watching the game like she knows what is going on, and she probably does more than me anyway. When the end of the fourth quarter hits, the other team lets the clock run out since they already lost by two touchdowns. No coming back from that. I’m sure Lowell and his team are very happy they are one step closer to the Super Bowl.

“Where do we go now?” Kimberly bounces off her seat and nearly falls. I laugh and catch her in time. She definitely had too much sugary soda by now.

“Back home to wait for Daddy,” I tell her, though I wish I had left earlier to skip the crowd. Now it will take us at least thirty minutes to leave the stadium.

I can’t see where Lowell has gone because the entire offense has been swallowed up in a pit of reporters and coaches and the other players. Kimberly is still snapping pictures, though I’m sure she will be out of film soon.

“But I want to see him now.” She clasps her small hand above my knee and shakes.

I smile and grab her hand watching her pout. It’s not like I can tell her I don’t want to cause a scene, and that all the photos and eyes on Lowell could expose her to something we don’t want. I want to keep things quiet until I’m sure we are a family, or I won’t be an old college fling trying to milk him for money, using my daughter as leverage.

“Soon, I promise.”

Which comes soon enough when the stadium clears out, and we leave through the regular entrance, take the skywalk back to the parking garage, and head home. The traffic isn’t as bad as I imagined, and we are out of downtown faster than I thought. Kimberly has busied herself in the back seat with cartoons playing on the television, so she doesn’t even hear when Lowell calls on the phone connected to Bluetooth.

“Hey, where are you?” he asks, sounding sort of out of breath but not completely. I’m sure he must be tired having run three of the touchdowns the team had himself.

“Almost home, why?” I smile to myself.

“Jacob is having a barbecue at his house, remember him?”

“Sort of…”

“I was hoping you and Kimberly would come instead of just going home.”

“She has been asking for you.” I sigh, making another turn before I almost get lost from being distracted.

“So, you’ll come then?” There is suddenly a lot of noise on his end. I’m guessing he must be in the locker room or near it.

“I don’t know.” I crack my neck which hurts along with the rest of me. I didn’t know I was old enough to be tired from sitting in one place too long.

“You can go if you want, though,” I add.

“Well, I don’t want to go by myself. I was hoping y’all would come.”

To say I don’t hear the longing in his voice would be a lie. It’s there, and I’m still in denial that it’s true.

“And I liked seeing y’all up there in the stands. I didn’t know Kimberly had a camera.” He chuckles, and I giggle back.

“She does… I guess we’ll go. Where is this place?”

“I’ll text you the address and meet you there.”

“Okay. See you.”

“Bye, Char.”

I hang up with him and take the next exit to stop at a gas station. Kimberly and I use the surprisingly clean bathroom before I fill up the tank, and Lowell has sent the address to me. I plug it into the navigation system and set off after telling Kimberly where we’re going. She isn’t happy about other kids being there, but she never is. She’ll warm up to it one day.

I’m a little glad to find his house isn’t far from my neighborhood, maybe five miles in the other direction.

Jacob’s house has a long, circular driveway, and the house itself looks like something out of a home magazine—tall and plain brick with stucco. Two cars are already there, but neither sports car is Lowell’s.

“What is this place?” Kimberly looks around and up in awe as I get her out of the car.

“Jacob’s house. He’s a friend of your dad’s.” I hold her hand and walk around the other end of the car. At the same time, an engine sounds behind us, and I turn to see it’s Lowell pulling up with Jacob.

Kimberly waves eagerly at him before he gets out of the car, and after, he walks up the driveway about as dreamy as it gets in his jeans and fitted white Henley. His sandy brown hair is tousled on his head, and his smile is wide. I finish greeting Jacob, who leaves us alone to go inside in time for me to see Lowell lift up Kimberly and swing her around before he sets her on his hip.

He stops in front of me as if remembering he can’t kiss me like he must want to when I watch his eyes dip to my lips. I pretty much do the same to him, but instead, I smile at him and run my hand down his shoulder.

“Hey, congrats on the win,” I tell him.

“Thanks. We’re getting closer to the Super Bowl.” He starts walking in, and I follow him.

“Do you get money when you win?” Kimberly asks boldly, still perched on his hip like it’s her chariot.

“Sort of.” He chuckles, tickling her ribs. I smile at the sight of them both and almost want to take a picture.

“I want to go to the Super Bowl.” Kimberly pouts.

“Me, too, Keeks. Me, too.” He kisses her cheek and sets her down before opening the front door with his own set of keys. I’m a little shocked before I remember they’ve been friends since college for almost ten years.

We walk in the house which is a very modern style with bright furniture and light wood floors. Light is coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.

“They’re out back,” he explains, and he walks through the house like he owns the place. I remember I haven’t seen Lowell’s house since over a month ago, and Kimberly never has.

Outside, a few other people are there. The sun is setting, lighting up the pool and outdoor grill. I recognize Jacob, but no one else. I ask Kimberly to play nicely with his two girls, but only when she sees the super-size outdoor dollhouse does she agree. And I somehow get loped into girl talk, when most of the other guys take over the grilling. There are three of them, who I learned are other players on the team, single but with dates of their own.

I try to hide out in the kitchen before Jacob’s wife comes in.

“Hey, I thought I could hide for a few minutes.” I smile at her, but I can still see Kimberly from the kitchen window.

“I try the same thing a lot. But this isn’t the place.” She sets two trays down and then nods for me to follow her. She is petite like me, her russet skin matching mine and brown hair in long waves. I almost want to give her a card for my salon.

“It’s crazy, but we have met before,” she tells me once we reach the right hiding spot—the linen room off the laundry room with two benches and a huge sink.

“Really?” I sit next to her.

“Yeah, at your salon.” She giggles. “I used to get my hair done there every two months until Jacob got me a stylist. I only saw you once, though, and it was my stylist who said you owned the place.”

“Oh, wow. It must have been every time I wasn’t in.” I look at the way her makeup is done perfectly, and true happiness in her eyes is nice to see.

“Maybe… but it’s such a small world. That you’re the Charlotte Lowell would talk about.”

“He would?” My heart skips a slight beat at the mention of his name.

“Yeah, every once in a while, over the years. Those two have been so close since college and especially after he found out about Kimberly.” She smiles more.

“He told you?”

“Yeah but not anyone else. Jacob is like his brother. Don’t worry, he would never tell anyone. I know you want to keep things quiet until… I don’t know. Something changes.”

I nod in agreement. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Plus, I had no idea Jacob was so good at giving advice. Lowell was calling him off the hook with questions. But he’s always been good with kids. He babysits so much for us. It’s the only reason our marriage still works.” She laughs, and I join, smiling to know Lowell is good with kids. I knew as much pretty quickly, though.

“I’m glad.”

We talk more about what she does and gossip about the guys. I sometimes wish I could be a stay-at-home mom too, but I might get bored. Maybe I would need more kids for it to keep me busy as if I’m even thinking about that right now.

Lowell comes in to relay that the food is ready, and we go outside to eat on the patio which seats us all comfortably. Kimberly sits next to me and picks at her hamburger meat and only eats the mac and cheese while I have a steak. It was one serious cookout. Lowell brushes my hand or against my knee under the table a lot. It would be no use telling him to stop because it’s not like I don’t like it.

I know I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.