Page 2 of Peyton

CHAPTER2

Peyton

The morning light filtered through the curtains. Last night, I had opened the window hoping the fresh air would help me sleep. I sighed and rolled onto my back. I draped my arm across my eyes hoping to block out the sun.

“Fuck,” I muttered. I’d had another restless night remembering the events of last week.

Nancy texted and asked if we could meet up. Nancy was my fuck buddy during our senior year of high school. Then I went to Columbia University, and Nancy entered the liberal arts program there. I was busy with football and a business program. It was easier to fall into old habits. I didn’t love Nancy, and we never talked about marriage. I assumed she’d moved on since I hadn’t seen or heard from her since my injury. My curiosity got the better of me, so I agreed to meet Nancy at a coffee shop near the campus. I planned the trip weeks ago to give the landlord the keys to my apartment. The lease was up in a month's time and I saw no reason to delay returning them.

I spotted Nancy at the counter, coffee in one hand and the other attached to the person who replaced me as captain of the football team, Ralph Donner.

“You’re a loser, Peyton, just like your father.” Nancy flipped her bleached blond hair over her shoulders. “And I don’t date losers,” she added as she walked away, dragging Ralph behind her. She held her head up high as if she’d given me my comeuppance.

Which confused the shit out of me?

First, because I wasn’t a loser. So what if I was not going to play professional football? Second, Nancy and I were nothing more than fuck buddies.

So why had those words run repeatedly to the point of me losing sleep? Nancy was wrong. My father wasn’t a loser.

Not my adopted father, anyway.

Bio Dad, that was another story. Brad Bristol was not my father. He was the sperm donor at the time of conception. But he was never a father. That honor goes to Aleksander Manos, the man my mom married after she divorced Bio Dad.

Aleksander adopted me after he married my mom. He became my father by choice. He and my mom also graced me with four siblings. The twins, Nicolas and Thomas, are five years younger than I. My sister Anna came two years after the twins, and Elise, eleven months after Anna. They taught me the true meaning of family.

Bio Dad liked the idea of family. The little woman at home, barefoot and pregnant. He thought it would give him an edge to advance in his career. The responsible family man. Brad Bristol was the All-American boy next door. Captain of the football team. Full scholarship to a prestigious college. And he was married to his high school sweetheart.

He hadn’t counted on an injury that would end his chances at playing professional football before it began. It left him bitter and no longer in need of the status of a family man.

My mom’s parents passed away when she was a teenager. She went to live with her only blood relative, Uncle Charlie. After mom left Bio Dad, we returned to Uncle Charlie’s. Unfortunately, Bio Dad’s parents were Uncle Charlie’s neighbors.

I was too young to understand the details of my parent’s bitter divorce. I remember Bio Dad and his family blaming my mother for everything that went wrong in his life. Bio Grandparents weren’t interested in spending time with me any more than Bio Dad.

I hadn’t set out to follow in Bio Dad’s footsteps. But that was what happened. Tranquility is a small town, so everyone expected the son of Brad Bristol to wear the Tranquility Falcons football jersey.

I was never the type to bow to peer pressure. I tried out for the football team because I enjoyed the game. And I excelled at it. When the recruiters came looking, I thought long and hard about what to do with the rest of my life. I had a gift and the rare opportunity to do something I loved for a living. On my mom’s advice, I did a double major in business and marketing.

There was always a risk I’d be compared to Bio Dad. Especially when I caused damage to my left knee mid-season, senior year. After the surgery to repair the damage, I returned to Tranquility. I spent a couple of months undergoing rehabilitation at The Clinic. It was a privately funded medical facility. I was able to do outpatient care and complete my internship with Van de Graaf’s marketing department.

The physical therapist removed the knee brace one week before graduation. I passed my exams and received a Bachelor’s degree in Business. However, I skipped my graduation ceremony. I wasn’t interested in walking down a runway to sympathetic stares and whispering about what could have been. Or how much like my Bio Dad I was.

Because I was nothing like him.

When my football dreams were dashed, I didn’t fall apart, turn bitter, or blame anyone other than myself for my predicament. I had a plan B. I secured an internship at Van de Graaf. I had the summer to get back on my feet, literally. Then I would work in the marketing department at one of the world’s prestigious shoe dynasties.

The man who was my role model and father, Aleksander, co-owned Van de Graaf. He ran the men’s line. My mom, Haley, worked in their flagship store. Van de Graaf’s was known for its classic style. You couldn’t watch an award show without seeing the expensive footwear on the feet of celebrities. My mother worked hard to get a degree in marketing, which wasn’t easy as a single parent. She worked at the Van De Graaf main office for a short time. She discovered she enjoyed being on the front lines in the Boutique more.

It was also where Mom met and fell in love with Aleksander. My best friend’s grandmother N.P. Bailey is a famous author. Monica commented that my mom’s story would make a great romance novel. The struggling single mom meets and tames the world’s wealthiest playboy.

It must be a girl thing because I had no desire to read about my mother and Aleksander. Or what they did behind closed doors. I have four siblings, so I’m guessing it’s a lot. Their PDA has been and continues to be off the charts. At twenty-two, I still covered my eyes when I visited before entering the kitchen. I learned a long time ago to make as much noise as possible, alerting them of my arrival. I passed that pearl of wisdom to my younger siblings.

It was also one of the reasons I rented an apartment this summer. An apartment whose bedroom window faced east.

I threw the covers back and swung my feet to the floor. I stared down at the scar on my left knee. A reminder to never take anything for granted.

When I could no longer play football, I focused on my business and marketing classes. One of our assignments was developing a marketing plan for a new business. In the process, I had an epiphany. I knew what I was going to do this summer. And it wasn’t sitting in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself.

I called my best friend Monica and ran it past her. She said it was a good plan.

But was I willing to ruffle a few feathers in the process?

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