“Get on with it, Norland!” one of the guys yells out. “We gotta game to win.” The chorus of teammates join in, and I look at Coach, pleading with my eyes for them not to do this.
“You heard ’em,” he says. “Get on with it.”
I inhale slowly. “All right…” I turn and stand with two firm feet to face the press. “Ladies. Gentlemen. Teammates. I’m here to make a statement and…” I don’t want to mess this up, so I pull out the piece of paper with the speech Larry provided. “I am speaking today because I want the world to know the truth about me, my baby, and her mother. A crime has been committed, and the responsible party must be held accountable.” I go on to tell everyone about meeting Marli and how she said she was mourning the loss of her marriage. Me? I was mourning the loss of a dream. I go on to explain how Marli showed up last Sunday with a surprise.
Everyone is silent and listening up until the part when I disclose the real reason Marli left Fia with me: she was married to Tony “the rolling pin” Rigatoni and on the run.
Mutters and mumbles break out among the crowd, including my teammates standing behind me.
“A few days ago,” I say, “Marli returned and asked to meet, which is how I learned the truth about her dangerous situation. All she asked of me was to protect Fia’s identity so that her husband wouldn’t learn about Marli’s infidelity. Basically, a death sentence for all of us. Marli believed that Fia is mine but wasn’t absolutely sure, nor did she care. She begged me to ensure that Tony would never be a part of Fia’s life no matter what. Minutes after I left Marli alone in her motel room, Tony killed her with a ladle.”
Tears well in my eyes. Dammit, Norland. You can’t cry. You’ll never hear the end of it. But I can’t stop myself from feeling what I do. None of this should have happened.
I straighten my back, determined to take it like a man. If they want to laugh, so be it. “Tony found my phone number on Marli’s cell and reached out to me today. He made it clear he intends to kill me. He does not know about Fia, but it was only a matter of time.
“That’s why I decided to go public today. I want everyone to know what happened to Fia’s mom. She did not deserve to die like that. I want everyone to know who is responsible, and in case I’m murdered with, say, a spork or other random kitchen utensil, you’ll know who’s behind it. I hope the authorities will place the full force of their efforts into catching this vicious man, even if he’s connected to powerful people, before anyone else becomes a victim of his ladle. Or rolling pin. Or whatever weird crap he’s into that week.”
I stand still for several long moments, noticing the absolute silence in the air. I look over my shoulder at my teammates only to find an ocean of shocked, horrified, and blank faces.
“Okay!” Coach claps his hands. “Good talk. Everyone inside. Chop-chop!”
The team eagerly complies, kind of reminding me of forest creatures fleeing a wildfire.
I follow them inside and catch up with Coach. He looks like he wants to piss himself—stiff back, pale face, sweaty brow. “Next time a murderer is after you, how about a heads-up, son?”
“Fair point.” Though, I tried to warn him. Maybe I should have tried harder. “You want me to go? I’ll understand if you do.”
“Hell no, son. I’ll never hear the end of it from Jo if I don’t give you your shot tonight, and, frankly, I’m not changing my lineup because of that worthless SOB. I mean really? Who kills a woman with a ladle? Sicko.”
Truth. “You’re serious? I can play?”
“Just don’t screw up the game tonight, Norland. We’ve all placed our chips on you.”
And there’s the pressure, pedestal, and confidence-undermining shebang. Awesome. It’s going to take a miracle to get me through tonight.
“Go suit up,” he adds.
“Yep. Got it. Game on, Coach.” I head straight to the bathroom and throw up. I can already feel the weight of the pedestal crushing me. I’m fucked. So very fucked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sixty seconds until the kickoff, and I’ve tried every trick in the book to get my head straight. I did visualizations of calming streams, I thought about how the people in my life are depending on me, and I reminded myself how much I want this. I’ve pushed on every possible angle, but the weight is still there, suffocating me.
Come on, Norland. Get it together. But the loud cheers of the fans fill my ears to a point where I can hardly hear myself think. I don’t dare look at anything other than the green grass below my feet. God forbid I see a fan smiling in my direction, hoping great things for me tonight.