I hold my hands up, motioning for her to stop. “What the fuck, Elena?”
“What?” she asks, looking surprised.
“What do you mean ‘what’? What are you doing here? More importantly, why are you still here?”
“Julius, stop.”
“No, I won’t stop. You chose another man over your husband, over your family. And you think it’s okay to show up here, with your family in tow, to what, freeload off of me? How come you’re here but couldn’t make it to Reggie’s game yesterday? Neither could your parents?” Just as I mention her parents, they appear from behind my SUV and walk toward us. “Fucking great,” I mutter. “I don’t have the patience to deal with your shit, Elena. Or this,” I say as I point to her father.
“Julius,” her mother says. “All this fighting isn’t good for the children.”
“No shit,” I say. “But neither is showing up unexpectedly at my game, pretending like we’re all one big happy family. I played like shit today because of you.” I point at Elena who gasps. Her father puts his hand on my arm and I swing my arm up to get him away from me.
He stumbles and goes down onto his knee. Elena and her mother start yelling, and I can hear the kids crying from inside the car.
“I’m done. I’m so fucking done, Elena.” I head to my car, needing to get to my kids. There’s a voice in the back of my head telling me to look over my shoulder, and when I do, I find Weather Girl there, watching everything.
“Just fucking wonderful.”
Nine
Autumn
Despite it being fall, the weather in Portland is gorgeous. The days are unseasonably warm—at least to me—and the colors of the leaves are so vibrant, I feel like I’m looking at a painting. Each morning, I start my day with a run along the harbor and stop at one of the many food trucks I come across for breakfast on my way back. Some days, I sit on one of the many benches and people watch. It’s incredible what kind of stories you can come up with about someone you don’t know just by focusing on what they’re doing.
I’ve created a nice routine for myself. On Tuesdays, I meet Peyton for brunch. It’s her one day off during the season, and we’re taking advantage of it. Every day, I tell Aiden I’m thankful he mentioned her on my first day because she and I have bonded and become really great friends. I’m grateful for her and also for Noah, who is one of the nicest men I’ve met in a long time. That’s not to say the teammates Noah’s introduced me to aren’t lovely. Most are, except that one.
That one, in particular, seems to hate me, and I can’t figure out why. Julius definitely has the wrong idea about me, and from what Peyton has told me, he’s one of the nicest guys out there. I don’t see it, especially after everything I witnessed on Sunday, which I plan to ask Peyton about when I see her.
After my shower, I put my hair in a loose braid, slip into a pair of leggings and throw on an oversized sweater. Having a wardrobe at work is a godsend. I absolutely love the lack of stress that comes with this perk.
The café Peyton and I are meeting at is halfway between our respective places. While I’m on the water, she and Noah live about six blocks away from it. Of course, their view of the harbor is something I’d take in a heartbeat over the proximity. Don’t get me wrong, I love my apartment and the location, but the idea of sipping my coffee from my balcony while looking over the city is appealing as well.
Peyton is already at the table when I arrive. She waves and tells me she already ordered us mimosas as I sit down. “How was your run?” I’ve begged her a couple of times to come with me, but she declines. I wonder if it’s because she genuinely doesn’t like to run or if this has something to do with her accident. I did look it up online, and it was horrific. The article I read said she wasn’t expected to survive, and the interview her dad gave was heartbreaking. The way Noah hovers over her, it’s like he’s waiting for something to come out of the sky and take her away from him. It’s endearing and completely makes sense to me now that I know about the trauma she’s been through.
“My run was great. The weather is perfect today.”
Peyton laughs. “Almost as if you predicted it yourself.”
I follow suit and shake my head. “Puns for days,” I say to her. “I keep seeing this older couple. I don’t know, I’d guess they’re in their eighties or something, but each time I see them, they’re holding hands and seem so in love. My grandmother is always talking about how my granddad is driving her crazy and says they’ve been married way too long.”
“My mom’s parents are still alive, as is my father’s dad and my dad’s mom.”
I hold up my hand. “Okay, explain the dad/father thing to me.”
Peyton smiles and readjusts herself in her seat. “My dad is Harrison. He adopted my sister and me, and my mom adopted his son, Quinn. They’re my parents. They have been together since Elle and I were about six. My father is Mason, and he died when I was five.”
“You sometimes talk about your father like he’s still part of your life.”
“That’s because he is, sort of. Football was his thing. He played in high school with my Uncle Liam and played in college. Then he started coaching back at his high school. My sister gravitated toward my mom, and I was my father’s football buddy. My dad has always encouraged us to talk about our father. There are even pictures of him up at my parents’ house.”
“Got it, I think.” Our waitress arrives at our table with our mimosas and takes our order. Once she’s gone, I continue. “And Noah has always been there?”
“Every memory I have, he’s in.”
“That’s so crazy. You’d think you’d be tired of each other. My parents are like that, high school sweethearts. How long have your parents been married?”
Peyton’s eyes widen, and she lets out a chuckle. “They’re not. My mom wasn’t ready to get married, and my dad said a piece of paper isn’t going to change how he feels. They’ve been together for over twenty years, but you’d think they’re still in the early days of dating. My sister, brother, and I have walked in on them way too many times.”
I want a love like that, something that spans years and decades but never fizzles. Something tells me that Peyton and Noah have that one of a kind of love, where absolutely nothing else matters in their world.
“Okay, I have to ask, what is the deal with Julius Cunningham?”
“What do you mean?”
I lean forward to talk quieter. You never know who is eavesdropping. “At the game, daggers. This man loathes me, and I don’t understand why. I know he thinks I’m using you, but his anger toward me has to be something else. Then, I see him after the game. He’s in the parking lot with his wife, and things are not going well. I can tell they're heated, so Lisette and I are trying to keep to the shadows. Some older man comes up to Julius, and he sort of shoves him away. I can hear kids crying. His wife and an older lady are screaming. It was all a mess. Worst part—Julius saw me there.”