Page 130 of Playbook
She gives me a thankful smile, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Let’s promise each other that we’ll stand up for ourselves from now on. Okay? And for each other.”
“I promise.”
She nods, satisfied with our promise, and I go back to writing names while she stacks them neatly in order of table.
“How is Brogan?” she asks, her voice regaining some of her usual bubbliness. “Is he nervous about the game tonight?” She stops and looks up at the ceiling. “Do they get nervous?”
“I don’t know,” I say, smiling at her.
“Ben is nervous enough for the both of them. Kansas City’s offensive unit is meshing really well right now and their zone defense is the best in the league.”
I stare at her a beat, trying to make sense of the words that just came out of her mouth. “You’ve been watching too much SportsCenter.”
She laughs it off but a second later, she asks, “So how is he?”
“I don’t know.” I’m careful not to look at her but to keep my voice even. For some reason, I don’t want her to know how sad I am. There has been enough drama right before her wedding and she doesn’t need any more. Plus, she’ll probably give me some happily ever after nonsense, and I don’t think I can stomach it today. “We haven’t talked much. He’s dealing with some family stuff.”
“Yeah, I gathered that from his outburst about his dad. I know you probably don’t want to say, but is everything there okay? There’s family drama and there’s familydrama,and it sounds like he might have the latter.”
“I really don’t know.”
Her brows furrow.
“He won’t talk to me about it. I have tried, but he always shuts down.” I sit back and drop the pen to the table. “I don’t want to force him to talk to me, but I don’t know how else to be there for him.”
“Sometimes people keep secrets because they don’t want to admit it to themselves, much less to you or me. If his situation is as bad as Ithink it must have been, then I doubt it’s easy to talk about, even if he cares about you. Which we both know he does. He’s crazy about you.”
“So, what do I do?”
“You just show up for him. Let him know you’re a safe space and when he’s ready, you’ll be there.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Isn’t it?”
I consider it for a minute. It’s not the worst advice I’ve ever been given.
“When did you get so much smarter than me?”
“Oh, about fourth grade.” She grins.
I toss my pen at her without the cap on it and it lands ink side first on one of the name cards.
“Ah, no. You crossed out Chris.” She holds it up to show me.
“If only it were that easy. He’s been texting me about wedding things.” I make a face.
“Really?” Her brows shoot up. “And you’re replying?”
“Yes.” Begrudgingly. “We have planned the rehearsal dinner and the toasts.”
“And he’s still alive.” She grins. “You really do love me.”
After I finish the name cards, I head home. On my way I go by to check my mail. The time with Sierra did wonders for my mood. I don’t have a clue how to fix any of it—the stuff with my dad or Brogan—but I feel less helpless than I did earlier.
I pull out the envelopes and shove them under one arm while I lock the box and shove the key in my purse. As I’m walking out, I rifle through to see if there’s anything aside from junk. I stop in my tracks when I see the letter addressed to #6. Complete with pink pen and little red hearts. No perfume or lipstick, so that’s something.
Whoever sorted the mail wouldn’t have realized this was meant for Brogan without his name clearly written out, so it didn’t get forwarded with the rest of his mail. I smile at the envelope.
