Page 65 of Blade
“It’s not your fault. Yeah, it sucks. But, like I said, I’m over it. Amber’ll get over it too. Coach will have a shit fit when he finds out about you two, but he’ll deal with it. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
“Family dynamics can be rough.”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Amber’s relationship with her father. Your relationship with Dad. And my relationship with Dad.”
Tommy smiled brightly. “Everyone should have a relationship like the one you have with Dad.”
That’s exactly what everyone thought, but that wasn’t the reality of it, and Robert decided it was about time he shared his hidden insecurities with his brother. “It was a lot of pressure growing up in that house.”
Tommy’s brows shot up, and his hand landed on his chest. “You’re tellingmethat it was a lot of pressure?”
“I know it was for you. But it was for me too. It wasn’t easy being the football hero. I was so afraid of disappointing Dad. I honestly didn’t know what would happen or how he’d take it if I fucked up or got injured and couldn’t play anymore. It was hard. And it weighed me down. It still does. And there’s even more pressure now. Not only do I have to worry about disappointing Dad, but I worry about disappointing the team, Coach, and the fans.”
“I had no idea you worried so much about this stuff, Robert. You were always in such a good mood. On top of the world. You still are. Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?”
“You had your own shit going on. My shit was insignificant.” He mimicked a dopey voice. “Poor me. What if I’m not the big football star anymore?”
“Hey.” Tommy pulled Robert in for a side hug. “Don’t discredit your worries. They’re real. Maybe it might sound ridiculous to some, but I know the struggle. Just because you have opportunities and good fortune doesn’t mean you worry less. It’s the opposite. I know that. Look. I can tell you from experience, live your life for you. That’s it. That’s all that matters. You and your girl.”
Robert knew Tommy was right, but he’d never stop taking his dad’s opinions into consideration. It was too ingrained in his DNA. “What’s going to happen when I can’t play football anymore? Logistically, I’m at the end of my career. I know I only have a few years left—if that much. All it takes is one injury, and my career is over. I almost missed the season when I hurt my leg last time. I didn’t break anything or tear anything. I just pulled a damn muscle. A fucking muscle! It took me out for three weeks. Next time, I might not be so lucky. Then what?”
“Then you do something else. Football isn’t everything.”
Robert let out a loud guffaw. “You should talk. Like music isn’t everything to you?”
“It is, yeah. Of course, it is. But there’s more to me than just being an awesome guitar player.” Tommy smiled. “Like my modesty.” He laughed. “For real, music is a huge part of me, but I’m a husband and a father first. Then I’m a musician.”
“But I’m not either of those things.”
“You’re a brother. A son. An uncle. A friend. A boyfriend.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. And it makes me feel really good about myself.” He hugged Tommy. “You always do. But I don’t think Dad is going to agree. He thinks of me as a professional football player before anything else.”
Tommy smirked, skeptically. “You think Dad looks at you and sees a pro football player before he sees a son?”
Robert hung his head. “I think he sees me as his son, the star O lineman for the New Jersey Bucks. I don’t think he sees me as just his son. Like that’s not enough.”
Tommy clapped his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “You couldn’t be more wrong. Football doesn’t define you. It’s your career. Once it’s over, you’ll find something else. And whatever it is, Dad’s going to act like you just discovered the cure for cancer. You already achieved everything he wanted for you. Anything else is just icing on the cake. You honestly don’t have to do a damn thing. You’re number one in Dad’s eyes. You always have been, and nothing will ever diminish that.”
It bothered Robert that Tommy thought their father favored him. “That’s not true,” he snapped, even though he knew it was.
“Yes. It is. Don’t worry about it. I’m OK with it.”
“I’m not,” Robert quickly replied. “We should both be number one in Dad’s eyes.”
“I know that. You know that. Most of the world knows that. Sadly, that’s not always the case. But I’ve dealt with it, and, like I said, I’m fine with it now. Don’t worry about me. Or Dad.”
“I know you’re probably right—about everything—but I still worry about what he thinks of me.”
“Then talk to Dad about it. Get it off your chest. Clear the air,” Tommy suggested.
Robert leaned forward, clasped his fingers together and stared at the marble floor as he wondered how the hell to have a conversation like that. Was he supposed to say, Hey, Dad. What happens after I can’t play football anymore? Will you still love me?
“Hey.” Tommy cupped the ball of Robert’s shoulder. “Don’t overthink it.”
“Yeah. I know.” He let out a breath, dismissing the heavy topic and focusing on the positive things in his life. “I’ll figure it out.”
