I nodded and told him I understood.
“I brought you a little something. It’s in my car. Want to come out with me and grab it?” he asked.
“Okay,” I said, feeling happier than I should have.
“I meant to give you this thing the other night,” he said as we walked to the foyer. “But then Miller showed up … and I forgot.”
I nodded, both of us falling silent as we walked outside, then over to his car. I stood in the grass, watching as he opened the passenger door, reached down on the floor, and grabbed a flat, rectangular package, wrapped in brown paper.
He handed it to me and said, “Consider it a congratulations and good-luck gift rolled into one.”
Relieved that he hadn’t called it a “goodbye” gift, I took it from him and said, “I don’t know what to say … Thanks, Coach.”
“You’re welcome, girl,” he said, his eyes switching on, becoming all twinkly. “I’m real proud of you.” He bit his lower lip on the right side and said, “Now go back in there and enjoy yourself. And don’t let Ryan steal all your thunder.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I said again and very nearly hugged him.
I didn’t, though, just stood there as he got in his car and drove away. Feeling light-headed, I went back inside, hoping nobody had missed me. But as I stowed the package in the foyer, Lucy emerged from the hall powder room, her quick mind processing every detail.
“Where were you? What’s that?” she said, staring down at my gift.
“Outside,” I said. “Your dad gave me something.”
“What did he give you?”
I shrugged and said I didn’t know.
“Well, open it!”
“Later.”
“No. Now. I’m so curious to see what he came up with without my mother’s help!”
Her delivery was straightforward, but I knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. That he had gone to a lot of trouble for me, just months after he had completely forgotten her birthday. I felt a guilty pang as she scooped up the package and walked back toward the party.
“Look, Neil!” she announced as everyone paused and watched her. “My dad got Shea a present! Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Neil nodded and smiled, but something in his eyes confirmed my hunch. It was fleeting, but I could see the look of sympathy or consolation. I was suddenly sure that they had discussed my friendship with her dad—and equally certain that she had confessed her feelings of jealousy—or at least frustration that she and her father seemed to have such trouble connecting when it was so effortless for him and me.
Ryan and a half dozen other guests followed her over to the sofa, where she instructed me to sit and open it. My cheeks burned as I carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a matted and framed newspaper article. I recognized it immediately as the first full-length feature I had written for my high school newspaper, nearly twenty years ago. It was a rambling ode titled “Why We Love Walker” along with a photo I had snapped myself of Coach Carr at practice, and another one of Walker’s then quarterback, Adam Gipe, dropping back in the pocket, his arm cocked, ready for a bullet pass. Next to my byline, in a patch of white space, Coach Carr had scrawled with a Sharpie: “We love you, too, girl. Knew you could do it! Coach C.”
As everyone processed what it was, there was a chorus of oohs and aahs as J.J. seized the moment to hand me a teal fountain pen and a Walker lamp, both of which I recognized from the school store. “This is from everyone here,” J.J. said, his voice turning formal. “To thank you for two decades of diligent service.”
“Two decades?” I said. “It hasn’t been that long.”
J.J. reminded me of the volunteer work I had done as a kid, detailing some of the more mundane tasks. I smiled, as Roxann Moody, our equipment manager, cupped her hand around her mouth and yelled, “Speech! Speech!”
Flanked by Lucy and Ryan, I bit the bullet and thanked everyone for coming, telling them how much I appreciated the gifts, then giving a special thanks to J.J. and Mary Ann, followed by a reminder that I’d still see everyone often. I closed by raising my glass and saying, “Go Broncos.” Everyone clapped and whistled, and I thought I was in the clear. But then Ryan quieted the crowd again and said, “I’d like to say something.”
I had no idea what he had up his sleeve, but I thought of what Coach had told me in the driveway. He definitely knew his former quarterback well. The room was absolutely silent, pure adoration on everyone’s face as Ryan continued. “I’d like to thank J.J. and Mary Ann as well for including me tonight,” he said, expertly pausing. “As always, it’s great to be back home, especially now that I’m with Shea. I just wanted to thank her for being the girl she is. And all of you for being so good to her. It makes me proud as hell to be a Bronco.”