Page 56 of A Play For The Heart
“Are you going to the game today?” my Dad asks. He always keeps up with Henry's games, even though he couldn’t care less about professional football. He only watches the games that Henry plays in and then will message me every time he catches the ball. It’s both adorable and annoying because Henry catches the ball a lot, which means I receive a lot of text messages from my father full of exclamation points.
“No. Maren, Nathalie, and I are going to watch at home.”
We had all planned to go since it was a home game and worked with everyone’s schedule, but the tickets left were way out of our price range, so we decided to stay home. Henry is great, but he is not worth spending a thousand dollars on nosebleed seats.
“We better let her go then, Jim,” my Mom says to my father, still sniffling, “I’m sure her friends are coming over soon.”
“We love you, Sawyer. Tell Henry we say hello and let him know how excited we are that you two are dating!”
“I love you both, too.”
With that, I hang up the Facetime call and get out of bed to get ready for the day.
A few hours later, I hear a knock at the front door. It’s about the time I told Nathalie to come over, so I meander over to the doorway and look through the peephole. Sure enough, Nathalie stands on the other side of the door, holding a package in her hands. I swing the door open and immediately start.
“I told you that you don’t need to bring something over every time. Even if it's polite to bring the hostess a gift. Maren’s going to become addicted to Cheez-Its if you keep bringing them,” I playfully scold her.
The last few times she’s come over, she’s brought something for the both of us. Finally, I told her to stop because I felt bad accepting something every time she came over, especially when we were just watching a movie or having book club.
“I didn’t, I swear! There was a postman heading to your door at the same time I was, so I grabbed it. It’s addressed to you.”
She hands me the package, then moves towards the living room, flopping down onto the couch.
“What did you order anyway?” she asks, scrolling on her phone.
“I didn’t order anything.”
At least I don’t remember ordering anything. Skeptically, I walk to the kitchen and grab a pair of scissors to open the box. I pull back the cardboard and sitting on top of tissue paper is an envelope. On a piece of stationary sits a note covered in a chicken scratch I instantly recognize.
Tears well in my eyes. The note is almost identical to the one I gave him one Christmas. He was heading to a bowl game and I couldn’t go, so I sent him a note with a smoothie cup telling him I was his biggest fan and an instruction guide on how to catch a football. In case he forgot, of course. I didn’t even realize he remembered the note I wrote. Slowly, I peel back the tissue paper and gasp at the contents. Three tickets for the game sit on top of a Seattle Mavericks jersey. I put the tickets to the side and pull the blue and silver Jersey from the box. I chuckle at the instructions taped to the front and flip the jersey to the back and a gigantic smile spreads across my face. Right at the top of the back of the jersey reads ‘Parker’. I trace my fingers along the seams. He gave me a jersey with his name on it.
Never in the years I’ve known him have I worn a jersey with his name on it. It always felt too intimate. Something that a girlfriend would do, and we were strictly friends. It means a lot that Henry thought of this and wanted me to wear it.
Nathalie drags me back to the present. “So, what did you get?”
“Henry sent me a jersey and three tickets to the game today.”
Nathalie shoots up from the couch and bolts into the kitchen where I’m standing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her move so quickly. Her speed is truly impressive.
“Maren, get in here!” she bellows, nearly shaking with excitement.
Maren struts out of her room, dressed in her usual game-day fashion. Mavericks’ jersey, leggings, and eye black on nearly half of her face. “What’s going on?”
“Henry sent Sawyer a jersey with his name on it and tickets for the game today!” Nathalie squeals. She almost seems more excited than I am.
“Oh…” Maren coos. “How nice of yourboyfriend.”
I told Maren that Henry and I were officially dating the evening after he spent the night, but she already knew since she had seen his shoes while leaving for work. Gracefully, she didn’t say ‘I told you so’ out loud, but she 100% said it with her eyes. She seemed genuinely happy by the news, and it was a comfort to know that both she and Nathalie were in my corner. After the issues I’ve had in the past with friendships, it’s been refreshing to have them as friends, even if they can be wild at times.
“We better get ready to leave for the game then, since there’s no way I’m watching from the couch when Henry gave us fifty-yard line seats,” Maren adds, holding onto the tickets like they’re precious. The gleam in her eyes tells me she will fight someone who even suggests taking them away.
“Fifty-yard line?!” Nathalie and I yell at the same time.
Maren laughs and waves the tickets in front of our faces. I was so preoccupied by the thoughtfulness of the jersey I didn’t even notice the details on the tickets. Sure enough, the tickets are way nicer than anything we would have ever contemplated buying.
A thought pops into my head now that we're going to the game and Henry is sure to see us, considering he just gave us front-row seats.
“We need to make a pit stop before we head to the stadium.”
