Page 46 of The Nanny Game Plan
After all the stress and awkwardness and “what the fuck am I doing” of the nearly two weeks since Clover came to live above my garage, this clean, clear, unequivocal win feels damned good.
Smiling ear to ear, I turn to search the stands to my left. I always know where the girls are sitting when they come to a game, and I make sure to give them a wave and a thumbs-up before I celebrate with the team or pump a fist at the cameraman. I want them to know that they come first.
I’m already lifting a hand when I see the glitter-smothered poster Bella and Ava hold over their heads, with some help from Clover. It reads in giant sparkle letters—CONGRATS ON 1100 GAMES DADDY! WE LOVE YOU!
My jaw drops, my gut clenching as the air leaves my lungs.
Shit.
God…is it really?
My mind reels, doing the math, until I finally realize…itismy 1,100th.
In all the insanity of the past few months, I’d forgotten.
I have no idea how Clover found out. Maybe Blue called her? Or maybe Nix or Charlotte? I think they’re friends. Hell, I have no idea. I only know that I’m so grateful to her for helping make this happen for the girls. They’re clearly thrilled with their surprise.
Seeing them bursting with pride as they wave for the Jumbotron camera, their beaming faces blown up for the entire arena to “aw” over, is almost too much.
Too sweet. Too good.
I wish Frederica could see them, see how happy and healthy they are. See that they’re going to be okay, and that I’m doing everything I can to make sure of it, because I love them so much. I might never be able to love them enough to make up for what they’ve lost, but I can give them every bit of my heart.
And I can give them amazing people like Clover, her cheeks pink as she pumps her fist and chants, “Yay, Daddy! Yay, Daddy!” along with the girls.
I’m so moved, I don’t know what to do with myself.
So moved, I don’t realize tears are leaking down my cheeks until Torrance slams a fist into my shoulder, demanding, “Are you okay, man? You having a Menty B right now or something?”
I shove at his chest with a tight laugh before swiping at my face through my mask. “No, you fuck, I’m not having a Menty B.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, relaxing as I continue to smile. “Half the Olds I know are having Menty Bs this year. Something in the water or some shit.”
“No, I’m just?—”
Before I can finish, Nix and Grammercy swoop in on either side of us, wrapping me in a stinky hug. “Kate! How’s it feel to be a bona fide legend?” Nix shouts, clapping my back.
“Aw, it feels good,” Grammercy says, shooting me a knowing grin. “Especially with your bébés here. I know those tears. Those are happy papa tears.”
I nod, fighting another wave of emotion, even as I laugh and swipe at my face again. Before I can finish pulling myself together, I’m mobbed by a riot of green jerseys delivering helmet-bonks and gloved hands hammering my shoulder pads. Torrance shouts something about “looking at Coach for a pic,” but I can’t hear clearly over the rush of blood in my ears.
I catch another glimpse of the Jumbotron, but it isn’t the girls up there anymore. It’s me,the old fogey of the Voodoo, caught in a tight zoom, looking like I just took a puck to the gut but kind of liked it.
Kind oflovedit, in fact, because I’m a sappy old man.
Iama sap. I love these men, this team. I love Louisiana and all the fans cheering their heads off as we skate toward the tunnel. And I love my family—my mom, and brother, aunts, uncles and cousins and, most of all, my baby girls.
I love them so much, it’s a struggle to keep my shit together through the post-game interviews and a quick shower. I can’t wait to see them, to scoop them up and hug them tight and tell them how much their present meant to me.
As I finally jog toward the family waiting area, bag knocking against my side, it feels like I’m overflowing with emotion. With happiness. With love.
I’m a lover. I always have been.
All the darkness surrounding the end of my marriage, the crushing blow of the divorce, and the agony of the past few months since Frederica died almost made me forget…but now I remember.
Now I remember how good it feels to let love fill you up until it overflows.
When I burst into the waiting area, I don’t even try to contain it. I drop my bag and rush toward my girls,allmy girls. Before I know it, Clover and Ava and Bella are all in my arms again, just like after the Muddy Ball Disaster. But this time no one is crying or sad or soaking wet.
