“When I get sad, I play football,” Jay said. “That’s what I’ve always done.”
The boy nodded shyly, and Jay continued.
“You’re being much braver than I’ve ever been, you know that?” he said.
The boy nodded again and Jay pulled him into a surprising hug. I found myself touched as I watched their interactions; Jay was such a good man, with such a big heart that I couldn’t help a few more tears from leaking down my face.
“Promise me you’ll stay strong,” Jay said to the boy. He reached into his pocket and came back with his keys. “This is my special football keychain,” he said, fingering a Manchester United strip of red, gold, and black. “But I think you’re going to need it more than I do.”
The father seemed to have recognized Jay, and he leaned down. “You don’t need to give us anything, Mr. Walsh, but thank you for the thought,” he said softly. “You’re very kind.”
But the boy reached for the strip of fabric once Jay had separated it from his keys. “Is this really mine?”
Jay nodded. “All yours,” he said. “It’s good luck, so don’t lose it.”
A well-dressed woman carrying a microphone walked up to me. “What’s going on?” She looked at me, her eyes narrowed critically. “Is that Jay Walsh?”
I nodded. “He made a new friend,” I said as I pointed to the boy. “I think they have something in common.”
“That is so sweet. I can’t wait to get my crew over here! Wait until they see this!” the woman gushed, and it dawned on me that she must be a journalist.
Jay stood up with a frown on his face when he spotted the woman. He walked over towards us. “What’s all this?”
“You’re going to be on the news, and for once, it’s for something good!” the woman chirped excitedly. “Don’t you want all of your fans to see you helping out?”
Jay shook his head. “Don’t film me,” he said in a serious voice. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who’s doing good just to be on camera.”
“But wouldn’t this inspire your fans?”
“I’m not doing it,” Jay said in a gruff voice. “Have some damn respect for the tragedy that’s occurred here today.”
The journalist rolled her eyes and walked away in a huff, and I smiled up at Jay. I knew something now; one pure, indubitable fact.
This was definitely the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jay
Even though I felt like dropping down on my knees in the exact second when I saw that Kate was alive, I knew that it wasn’t the right time for a proposal. Not by a long shot. With the plane crash and multitude of people thought to be dead, it would have been an utterly selfish, jackass move to propose. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t think Kate would want a big, public proposal. She was poised and outgoing, but I knew that she didn’t like being a spectacle.
It just wasn’t the right time.
By the time we left the airport, we were both exhausted. I was starving, but I felt guilty about being so hungry. All of those people grieving probably weren’t thinking about food, and I felt like I shouldn’t be, either. But after my stomach grumbled more than once when we were in the car, Kate turned to me.
“You don’t have to beat yourself up, you know,” she said softly. “We can get something to eat. I’m hungry, too.”
Without replying, I drove us towards that little Chinese food stall where we’d had one of our first conversations. Kate gave me a watery smile when I pulled up, but she didn’t say anything.
“I’ll slide out and pick us up some food, and then we can take it home to eat, sound good?” I said.
Kate nodded. “I wish I knew why I felt so tired,” she said softly. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.”
I’d had a game scheduled for later in the day, but I had to call my coach and tell him that I would be missing it. I’d never missed a match, not even for the most foul of hangovers, but today was something different. When I told my coach a short version of what had happened, he let me off the hook, scot free.
I loaded up with a variety of wontons, fried chicken, and vegetable dishes before heading back to the car, and Kate smiled when I slid behind the driver’s seat. It already felt final, like she was back for good.
“What are you going to do?”
Kate pursed her lips. “I’m not sure,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I should do. I emailed my producers and told them about what happened, and I don’t know if I’ll have to get on a plane to go back home or not.” She shuddered. “I hate the idea of flying right now, it seems so awful.”