Page 142 of A Whole New Play

We hit the turf. I scramble to my feet and search the air for where the ball will land.

It seems to hang in the air for eternity.

The crowd holds a collective breath.

The ball begins to drop near the twenty-yard marker, close to the sideline. I can’t tell if it’s in bounds from this angle, but two Arizona players are there, ready to catch it.

I take off in that direction, determined not to let them make the play of the game.

Turns out, I don’t need to worry.

Deon Walters comes out of nowhere.

I watch in awe as my teammate jumps into the air, reaches out above the Arizona players’ heads, and snatches the ball right out from above them.

Deon clutches the ball to his chest and holds possession as he hits the ground.

The crowd erupts.

“LET’S GO!” I shout.

The refs blow the whistle. The game is over. We won.

The Rough Riders sideline rushes onto the field. Players on the field dogpile onto Deon. The young lineman gets up and holds the ball in the air with a victorious shout. The crowd goes wild.

Players run up to me, hugging and shoving me in celebration. The field is covered with people. I see players run up to Coach Owens and pour a cooler of water over his head.

This moment is surreal.

It feels like an out-of-body experience, especially when I look over to the Rough Riders sideline and immediately see my kids and Valerie jumping up and down in celebration. Confetti falls around them. Streamers fly across the air. The image is one that will be seared into my mind forever.

“Go get her, son.”

I whip my head around.

Coach Palmer stands at my side. He looks meaningfully towards his daughter then shouts to be heard above the crowd, “Not that you need it, but you have my approval.”

Even with all the noise around us, I hear the emotion clogging his throat.

I clear my own, as well. “Thanks, Coach.”

I jog to the sideline, pushing through the swarm of people who’ve overtaken the field. I will celebrate with my team again in a minute. First, I need to catch the beauty before she escapes me once more.

The twins see me first.

“Dad!” They cry in unison. I rip off my helmet, toss it to the ground, and kneel to catch them as they jump into my arms. I hug them fiercely, savoring this moment with the two most important people in my life. But my eyes are locked on a close third.

Call it the high from the win—call it the clarity that comes from adrenaline—whatever it is, I know now that I can’t let another day pass where I don’t confess the truth of how I feel about Valerie. Of how much I regret ending things between us.

It isn’t because she saved my daughter.

And it isn’t because I saw how she and my kids smiled and laughed on the sidelines anytime I looked their way during the second half of the game.

No, it’s because Valerie Palmer is, and always will be, the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.

Screw what anyone else thinks.

The only opinions that matter are mine, Valerie’s, and my kids’. And based on the way Abby and Andy have missed their former nanny these past months, I highly doubt they’ll protest us getting back together.

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