Page 92 of The Player's Obsession

“Nice to meet you, Michael. I read somewhere you play football.” Lucinda is smiling and batting her long fake eyelashes. Even a blind person could see she likes him. I’m not surprised. “The Seattle Seagulls?”

“Yes. I see you’ve done your homework,” he says.

“Everything is at our fingertips these days.”

‘That’s the truth. Scary, but convenient as well. Can I get you a drink?” And just like that, they disappear.

Emily sends Theo to fetch them two dirty martinis. Thankfully she has no more questions about the wedding. Instead, she is happy to talk about their efforts to learn Bridge now that they’re retired and bored. Just as I’m ready to nod off, I feel a hand on my back. I turn, and it’s Rose and Stephanie.

We hug. I’m happy to no longer be alone with his parents. They’re lovely people but they kinda remind me of Mr. and Mrs. Howell from the TV show Gilligan’s Island.

“Please, help yourselves to food and drinks. Our boys need to win this game,” Emily chirps and accepts a martini from Theo. They clink their glasses and sip while we excuse ourselves to find our own drinks and food.

When the game starts, we all fall silent and pay attention to the field. It’s my second game, and I’m spellbound. I cheer whenever Oliver has the ball, and when we made a touchdown in the first period, we all cheered and high fived each other. I will lose my voice before the night is over. I don’t have to worry about Lucinda. Michael is taking care of her and explaining the rules of the game. They’ve been inseparable since they laid eyes on each other.

It's musical chairs to some extent. When I’m not sitting with Stephanie and Rose, I sit next to Emily. I enjoy her stories about the boys growing up on the lake, fishing and boating. It all sounds idyllic and very different from how I grew up.

I commend her on raising two boys who play a rough sport like football. I flinch and worry about injuries every time Oliver collides on the field, and I hear the clash of the gear. They sound like modern-day gladiators out there, and I wonder how his mother handles it.

“How do you watch your sons play and not get anxious?”

“Years of experience. When they were little, the games were real nail-biters. But I figure they are grown men getting paid well to do what they love. Not that Oliver needs the money. He has plenty from playing the stock market. He gets that from his father. They both love numbers and researching all that dreary stuff.”

“Well, you’ve both done a fine job of raising them.”

Michael brings Lucinda over and sits next to his mother. Just then, the opposing team makes a touchdown and a field goal.

“Oh crap,” Emily exclaims, slapping her knee.

I purse my lips together to stifle a chuckle. She’s polite. She leans and whispers in my ear, “I’d say dammit, but Theo doesn’t like it when I curse like a sailor.”

“It can be therapeutic,” I whisper back.

“Exactly.” She knocks her shoulder into mine as a sign of kinship, and my heart swells.

“Michael, are you in town long?” I ask.

“I’m not sure. My calendar is open now that my season is over.”

I glance to the field in time to see Travis throw an interception, and now we’re down by seven points. Everyone in the suite groans.

Rose is standing at the glass, and I excuse myself to stand next to her.

“Travis got rid of it because our defense sucks. He was about to get sacked by number 86 and 300lbs.”

“I don’t know how you make it through the season without having a heart attack. The sounds of their gear hitting is enough to make me cringe.”

She turns to me with a warm grin. “I cringe too, but the gear is there to protect them. We love our men, so of course, we’re going to worry. That will never stop.” Her words are not exactly encouraging, but I appreciate her honesty.

I ask her more about her singing career, and she mentions songs I’ve heard on the radio. Wow, she’s famous. I feel so insignificant around all these beautiful, rich, talented people. I spend my workday crunching numbers. My job is so boring compared to everyone else.

Emily comes up next to me, and we stand shoulder to shoulder, watching the next play.

“I hear you’re an accountant. I was too. I worked at Ernst and Young back in the day.” I get the impression she’s telling me this in an effort to help me feel comfortable in this crowd. Is it that obvious I’m uncomfortable?

“Maybe Oliver gets his love of numbers from you too. I’m good with numbers, but I wish I were as genetically gifted as everyone else.”

“Oh, nonsense. It’s a tough road for everyone, no matter what line of work it is. I might come from money, but I worked after the boys went to school.”

---