Page 13 of Running
“Hey, Johnny.” Yeah, she still calls me by my childhood nickname. “How was your day?”
“Good. I had some friends over to play ball.”
“That’s great. When does your training camp start again?” She loves to hear about my football routine, having been a great softball player back in her day.
“Mid-July, so there’s a couple more weeks until then. I’m focused on conditioning and mastering the playbook updates for now.”
“The summer sure is flying by.”
“Yup. How are you all?”
“We’re holding things down okay here, and the kids are thriving. Lainie returns to hybrid days in the office at the end of July.”
I’m not as close to my sister as I am to my mom. She’s eight years older, so we didn’t spend a ton of time together as kids, especially once she was a teenager. But I don’t know how Lainie’s able to do it all, especially with Mark not helping much at home as far as I can tell.
I don’t want my mom stuck picking up his slack either.
“Mom, are you sure I can’t get you guys more help? Cleaners? A part-time nanny?”
She responds quickly. “No, no, Johnson. You’ve done enough. I’m glad to take care of those things for Lainie and the kids.”
I don’t push her for now, but I make a mental note to keep checking in. I have the money, so it wouldn’t be a big deal to set them up with more resources.
Like I’m doing for those kids facing what I did when I was younger.
That’s the thing about having all this money. I’m using it to create a dream home for myself, to help others in need, because actually doing something with the absurd amounts coming in feels better than just staring at the numbers in my account. And those moments of action give me brief relief from the thoughts that creep up when I’m by myself.
Namely,I better be pitch-fucking-perfect to show that I actually deserve any of this.
Apparently ready to change the topic, Mom starts telling me astory about some cute things Emma said over the last day. After about fifteen minutes, we say goodbye.
I’m alone in the quiet of my house again, and put on a baseball game to fill the silence.
The week goes quickly. I put in long hours at the Waves facility even though we aren’t close to our peak practice period yet.
In part, it’s amething. I add in extra training sessions to ensure my conditioning is rock solid. I also catch up on some game film of our first opponents that I didn’t have a chance to begin reviewing when I was in Alabama.
For the good of the team, I make sure to connect with more of the offensive players too, building our chemistry and connection. I schedule a hang-out session at my house on Wednesday night that most of the offensive starters attend.
Another distraction emerges on Friday, when Landon’s back in the Waves facility for training after returning from Wimbledon. Apparently, things with Rori went well, despite there being a gossip story that risked busting their secret. She’s made it to the finals tomorrow, and Landon, without revealing many details, seems to have had a good trip.
“Yeah, London was a fun time,” he says to me with a wink when we bump into each other in the locker room. I understand his not spilling secrets with so many people around.
No elaboration is necessary, honestly, now that I see the glow in his expression. Their relationship started as a one-night stand, but it looks like it’s getting more real. I’m happy for him.
We’d spoken about his growing feelings for Rori in more detail six weeks ago, when he admitted he wanted to be more than just a hookup buddy with her.
I get it. Even more than I admitted to him at that time.
I had a girlfriend in high school, a sweet girl named Amy. Although we had a lot of firsts together, we weren’t meant to last. There was always something missing, like we were ultimately meant to be friends, nothing more.
We’d broken up once I’d left for college, on good terms. She’s happily married now, and we’d even caught up amicably after I bumped into her in the grocery store when I was back home.
I went a little crazy at first in college, my mind blown by the women interested in me as a member of the football team. That got old, though, even starting my last year in school.
Now I feel caught in between—not willing to abstain (no way) yet also struggling to meet women that really want to get to know me asme. So the last couple of years have been marked with a few short-term and casual situations, but I’ve not felt truly connected to anyone.
“You want to come over for dinner tomorrow night?” Landon asks, interrupting my thoughts. We generally hang out a few times a week, sometimes just us and sometimes with a bigger group.
