Halftime Husband

by McCarthy, Erin

  I waved to Poppy and Willow as the taxi pulled away.

  I was doing the right thing for them, but it really hurt like hell.

  Putting my hand over my eyes, like I could somehow prevent the avalanche of tears, I realized I didn’t agree with Brandon. I was glad I hadn’t known it was the end of our relationship the last time we’d had sex. I couldn’t have casually had goodbye sex. That wasn’t me.

  It was better not to have known.

  Live in the moment. That’s what I always told Brandon.

  The future was a blank canvas.

  For the first time in my entire life, I actually hated that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Seven Weeks later

  “You sound miserable, Brandon,” my sister said, not pulling any punches.

  “Thanks, Madeline,” I said dryly, walking down Fifth Avenue. “I’m just tired. There’s been a lot of pressure with this season.” There had been. But we were above five hundred for the season, which was more than anyone had expected. I considered it a success so far, but I had wanted to do more. Do better. I was disappointed and wanted to finish strong with the final two games.

  “I’m not talking about football. I’m talking about your pathetic love life. I don’t understand why you let Dakota walk away from you.”

  I was worried about that too. I was worried that the real reason I wasn’t sleeping was because I missed Dakota. It felt like every single breath I took was extra effort, like every smile was strained, like every moment was a litany of regret that I hadn’t done more to show Dakota what she meant to me.

  That did not, however, mean I wanted my sister calling me pathetic. “Oh, well, thanks. That makes me feel better. I didn’t want Dakota to leave, but she got a job offer. What was I supposed to do?”

  “We’re just worried about you.”

  I was worried about myself, to be totally honest, but I wasn't about to share that with her. “Who is we?”

  “Me and Chris.”

  “You discuss my pathetic love life with your husband? That’s fantastic.” I glanced over at a boutique. I saw a brunette coming out of the door that I recognized as one of Dakota’s friends. “I have to go. I’ll call you back.”

  I ended the call without waiting for my sister’s response and approached Felicia. She had her baby bundled up and sitting in a stroller. She was struggling to get out of the shop. I opened the door wide and held it for her.

  “Thank you,” she said. Then she glanced over at me. “Oh, Brandon! Hi, how are you?”

  “I’m okay. How are you?” I made a goofy face at the baby, who I had met after the game the day Dakota’s friends had all hung out with her in my box. I was rewarded with a blank stare. “Not into comedy, huh?” I asked the baby, making an even more outrageous face.

  “She’s just up from her nap and she’s still shell shocked, don’t take it personally. I’m aces. Aside from the lack of sleep from Amelia’s teething, I couldn’t be happier.” She pulled the stroller in front of the boutique window.

  “Do you live in this neighborhood?” I asked. “I live two blocks from here.”

  “I’m right around the corner. We’re practically neighbors.” Felicia bent over to adjust the baby’s knit hat. “Dakota is back in town. Have you seen her?”

  The question sounded innocent enough. Given that I’d never told Dakota how I felt, it wasn’t really a weighty question. “No, I didn’t realize she was back already.” I was disappointed I hadn’t heard from her, which was stupid. She might text the girls to see them, but she wouldn't reach out to me.

  We had agreed we were done.

  Felicia studied me. “What happened between you two?” she asked, bluntly. “Because I thought for certain there was something going on.”

  I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. I wasn’t sure how convincing I was. I sure hadn’t convinced myself. “Nothing happened. She got a job and left. That’s what we always agreed on.”

  “She never told you how she felt?”

  I wasn’t sure what Felicia was driving at. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. Or maybe I do. I know how Dakota feels about a lot of things. She doesn’t exactly hold back what she’s thinking.” Which was what made me confident her feelings for me were not the same as mine toward her.

  “You have to understand Dakota,” Felicia said. The wind blew her long dark hair across her face and she pushed it aside. “She’s an unintentional guru, you know. People think she’s just a good time, then she bursts out with something incredibly profound and insightful.”

  I thought of the night we met and how she had told me my superpower was being there when people needed me. It might have been the best compliment I’d ever received. “She’s an amazing woman,” I said, still unsure where Felicia was trying to steer me.

  “That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have the same insecurities as everyone else when it comes to love.”

  Now I was totally lost. “I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me,” I said, going for honesty. I had to be at the school for parent-teacher conferences in fifteen minutes.

  “She’s in love with you, Brandon. She thinks she did the noble thing for the girls by leaving because you didn’t want to date and risk it all going down the loo.”

  Her words hit me full force. I stared at Felicia. “What? Did she tell you that?”

  “Yes, she told me that. She’s bloody miserable.”

  “She loves me?” An amazing sense of relief and elation poured over me.

  “Yes. Now I probably shouldn’t be interfering but I have watched her talk about you for a year now and you two are being very thick about this whole thing. In the beginning when I first met my husband, I was being an idiot in my relationship and I had a helpful push from my friends, so I figure I need to pay it forward. Just take a risk, Brandon. Take a leap of faith and see where you land.”

  For a second, I just stood there, processing Felicia’s words. I had been one hundred percent convinced Dakota wasn’t in love with me, didn’t want a future with me. Then I remembered that night in bed, when she had asked what would happen if we just got married and I thought she was proving the fact that we were stuck doing what we were. Which was hiding our relationship. What if she had been trying to tell me something different and I’d failed to pick up on it?

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “She’s back at her old apartment. I guess the new tenant didn’t work out.”

  I had fond memories of that tiny apartment. That incredible first night we’d spent together there haunted me at night. “Thanks, Felicia.” I impulsively reached out and hugged her. “I have to go.”

  “Don’t text,” she called after me as I started jogging toward the girls’ school. “Call or do this in person.”

  “I’m not going to text,” I said, turning around. “Texting is for boys, not men. I have something better in mind.”

  I did. But first I needed to talk to my daughters.

  “Good luck, I’m rooting for you!” Felicia waved.

  Heart racing, I finished the jog to the school, forcing myself to focus on this meeting. I had a totally different attitude about it. Now I was feeling optimistic about everything. Life. Love. My future. I had a chance and I was going to take it. I wasn’t letting Dakota go without a fight.

  Poppy is a wonderful student but she talks too much in class.

  That was the gist of the conference with Poppy’s teacher. Not a shocker.

  Willow is an average student lacking in confidence. She’s improving since she started playing soccer.

  Also exactly what I was expecting. Soccer had been a huge piece to try to fit into the puzzle of our schedule, but it had only been a month and it was worth the massive inconvenience. Willow was standing straighter, laughing more, finding her attitude and voice again.

  The girls were waiting for me in the school computer lab, so I went and signed off for their release and ushered them out for the walk home.

  “What did my teac
her say?” Poppy said.

  “That you’re an excellent student but you talk while she’s doing her lessons. Knock off the jibber jabber.” I gave her a stern look.

  Poppy made a face. “I can’t help it.”

  “You can so help it. Everyone can control their own behavior if they try.”

  “Then maybe you should try to be less grumpy,” Willow said.

  “Hey.” She wasn’t wrong, but still. “Remember who you’re talking to.”

  “It’s true. You’ve been a grump since Dakota left. I miss her. Did you know she got back yesterday?” Willow said. “Can I go see her?”

  My daughter had handed me the perfect opening. “Yes, of course you can see her. Text her and see when she’s free. But, speaking of Dakota, I need to be honest with the two of you. I care about Dakota and I would like to date her, if she’s interested. Would that bother you?”

  “Are you serious?” Willow asked. She had her hands shoved in the pockets of her coat, the wind stinging today, but now she removed them and grabbed my arm with both hands and jumped up and down a little. “That would be so awesome, Dad.”

  “Really?” I was a little surprised. I had been nervous they would want Dakota all to themselves. “You wouldn’t mind? What if it got serious?”

  “If it keeps you from being grumpy, I’m all for it. She likes you, too, you know. You guys weren’t exactly fooling anyone.”

  That was ironic. “No? Here I thought I had a great poker face.”

  She made a raspberry sound with her lips. “Please. You look at her like this.” She grabbed her chest, tilted her head, and batted her eyelashes with a huge sigh.

  That made me laugh. “I have never once in my entire life looked like that. You’re insane.”

  “Okay, maybe not. But it’s like so obvious that you were happy when she was around and now you’re Sad Dad.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” We turned the corner onto our street. “Pop, what do you think?”

  “I think my love potion worked.” She looked up at me smugly.

  It took me a second to process what she was saying. “What? Love potion? What are you talking about?”

  “I made a love potion so you and Dakota would get together.”

  Oh my God. The crap she kept trying to get me to sniff. “That stuff that smelled like licorice?”

  “Yep. I found the formula online.”

  Mary, the old nanny, had been right. The kid was dabbling in magic. Which was both disturbing and incredibly sweet. Hell, I was proud of her intelligence and her willingness to take matters into her own hands.

  I ruffled her hair. “I appreciate you wanting to make me happy. But you can’t force people together with spells. They need to be together because they want to be together.” Not that I thought Poppy’s cup of sludge had influenced me in any way. I just wanted to be clear that having people sniff chemicals for your own motives wasn’t a great idea.

  “I told you that you should pay more attention to her Amazon ordering history,” Willow said, looking down at her sister like she was such a child.

  Mental note. Check Amazon weekly. “Pops, I guess if you were trying to bring us together, this means you’re cool with me going and talking to Dakota?”

  “Totally.”

  “I thought you girls thought I’m too old for her.”

  “Oh, you are. But she doesn’t seem to mind so I’m like whatever,” Willow said. “She thinks you’re funny and to be honest, Dad, you’re really not, so that says a lot.”

  Getting dragged by my own kid. This was parenthood. “I feel like that was encouragement sandwiched between about nine insults, but I’m glad I have your approval.”

  My mood was way too high to have a crack at my sense of humor bring me down. If the girls were on board with me dating Dakota, the only obstacle to us being together was her potentially turning me down.

  “Go get her, Dad,” Poppy said. “Bring your best game.”

  A new doorman opened the door for us at our apartment building.

  “We need a plan,” I said. “You two need to text her in a group text making sure she’s going to be in her apartment tomorrow night. Don’t make it obvious.”

  “I’m so good at not being obvious,” Poppy said.

  That was debatable. But I held my hand up. “High five. Let’s do this.”

  They both slapped my hand and I pulled my phone out. I had a couple of calls to make.

  Standing in the empty main room of my old apartment, I sighed. I had one suitcase, six unopened boxes that Brandon had sent over that morning, and an air mattress I had just bought, but had yet to inflate. I regretted leaving my mattress and sofa behind when I moved out. They were obviously long gone, left on the curb, thrown in a dumpster, or sold on an app for twenty bucks.

  Everything about it was depressing. I was depressed. The tour had gone well. No hiccups. A good time on the road with old friends and new people alike. Yet, I hadn’t enjoyed myself. I couldn’t get Brandon out of my head. Or Willow and Poppy. I missed them and no amount of parties with Petron could change that.

  The apartment was freezing cold. Shivering, I went over and turned the heat up, appreciating the hiss of the radiator cranking on immediately. When I turned, my gaze landed on the dream catcher I had left behind in the window. Crossing the creaky hardwood floors, I ran my finger over it and then turned my note to read it.

  I’ll be back.

  “I didn’t mean that quite so literally,” I said to the dream catcher. “The universe just loves to screw with me, doesn’t it?”

  This was supposed to signify my independence, that I had returned to triumph over my bills and my career. Instead, it just felt like I was backsliding to my old life, not going forward.

  The new tenant hadn’t worked out, according to my landlord when I had called him halfway through the tour with Sneak, begging to know if he had any available units in any of his managed properties. The tenant hadn’t paid rent after the first month, but there had also been multiple raids of the apartment by police for something they were not at liberty to discuss. It sounded like for three months my apartment had been living a colorful life.

  Yet they’d left the dream catcher, which was interesting. With my partially empty bottle of champagne beneath it on the window sill. Then I suddenly realized it wasn’t the same bottle. This one was full. Unopened. A more expensive brand than the one I had left behind. That was just crazy.

  There was a new piece of paper added below mine.

  Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable. ~ Helen Keller

  That was a better note than the one I’d left. I could admit it. The freeloading tenant under investigation by the police was more cerebral than me. That was just fabulous.

  My life had been a daring adventure. I wasn’t sure what it was anymore, nor did I understand that quote exactly.

  After I had texted the girls, I had texted Brandon asking to have my stuff sent over. It was stupid of me. I should have actually called him, but I had chickened out at the last minute. Now I was staring at my paltry belongings in three stacks around me. I had to have more than six boxes of possessions, but apparently not.

  Poppy texted me in a group text with Willow.

  Can you video chat later? Are you going to be home all night?

  I was going exactly nowhere.

  Yes. Any time is good.

  Still freezing, I viciously ripped open the nearest box, feeling mocked by the universe, the previous tenant, and even Helen Keller, which was just wrong of me. But weren’t we supposed to embrace fate?

  I needed a freaking sweater. There had to be a sweater in one of these boxes.

  No sweater, but there was a cheap winter coat on top. I realized immediately that it was the coat I’d bought on the fly the night I had met Brandon. I’d grabbed it off the rack for like twenty bucks to go ice-skating. It wasn’t a cute coat. Wh
y had I kept this and yet jettisoned half of my stuff?

  Because I’m stupidly sentimental and don’t want to admit it.

  Brandon’s text back to me when I’d requested my stuff the night before had been pleasant and polite. Helpful, accommodating. Nothing more. I had wanted more. But what the hell was the man supposed to say in a text when I’d just up and left his life seven weeks earlier?

  He was an adult, so he’d been polite and very efficient. My boxes had arrived twelve hours later.

  I pulled the coat out of the box and put it on over my leggings and sweatshirt, hoping it would warm me up. Then I went for the champagne from the last dude to live in apartment 311 and twisted the wire off the top. I popped the cork and drank straight from the bottle. I saluted the dream catcher. “Fate is a tricky bitch, isn’t she?”

  I had been so convinced that fate had brought me and Brandon together.

  Look how that had turned out.

  Fate had handed it to us and we had both essentially turned it down.

  Thanks, can’t, too scary, bye.

  I took another sip of the champagne. The apartment was so cold the bubbly was actually chilled to perfection. Setting the bottle back down on the windowsill, I started pulling stuff out of the open box on the floor. Mostly clothes.

  I threw down the pair of shorts I was holding. I sat back on my ass, legs crossed. This was bullshit. I wasn’t happy. I had played it safe instead of being a free spirit and now I was just miserable. I loved Brandon.

  “Dakota, you’re a mess. Even more than you were a year ago,” I said out loud in my empty apartment. “Because then you were just having fun, now you’re in love with a man who has no idea how you feel.”

  Just hearing my words echo in the mostly dark room, lit only by the feeble undermount light of the kitchen cabinets, I crawled across the floor on my knees to reach the champagne bottle. After sipping it again, my hand was cold from holding it, so I tucked it into my coat pocket.