I walk outof the dressing room Friday night and ask Maddie to zip up my dress for me before moving to the dais so the seamstress can make sure no last-minute alterations are needed. The deep-blue silk drapes over one shoulder and nips in at my waist before sliding over my hips like a second skin and flaring slightly at the bottom.
It’s nearly the exact color of Max’s eyes and is pretty damn close to the color of the Revolution uniforms.
My grandfather used to have a picture on the shelf of his office of my mom in this dress. She wore it at an event before I was even born. Thank God, I took her clothes before Dad had a chance to get rid of them too.
I spin so I can see every angle in the mirrors.
It’s gorgeous, and I feel like I have a piece of my mom with me.
Watching over me. I know she’d be proud.
“Oh, D. It’s perfect.” Mads claps her hands. “Now spin and let me see the back.”
I do as she asks and spin in a small circle as the seamstress comes out and examines me carefully. “It is perfect,” she clips out in her heavy Russian accent. “Go change.”
“He’s going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of there on Saturday when he sees you.” She accepts the garment bag that holds her dress and unzips mine, then hugs me.
“I can’t thank you enough for all your help with this event, Mads. It means so much to me.”
“Nyet.” The seamstress raises her voice. “No hugging. Do not wrinkle dress.”
I move into the dressing room to carefully slip out of the gorgeous gown and throw my leggings back on so we can head to the tuxedo shop before going home. We promised Dixon and Watkins we’d grab their tuxes while we were out. Considering the way they rallied the Kings players to help with the auction and the baskets, grabbing their tuxes was the least I could do.
Maddie and I took one car to the seamstress, so I need to head back home and drop her, our dresses, and the guys’ tuxes off before going to Max’s for the night. Once we get home, there’s pizza on the dining room table, and the Kroydon Hills University football game is on TV. Cinder is curled up next to Watkins, swishing her tail like a hussy, trying to get his attention as he holds a string out of her reach.
It’s funny how much a year can change your life. Last year, Mads and I were sitting in that stadium in Kroydon University hoodies with frayed jeans and Chuck Taylors. Navy-blue temporary Crusaders tattoos stuck on our cheeks, cheering while we watched the team play.
I knew where I hoped I’d be a year from then.
But I had no idea what it would actually look like.
A giddy feeling runs through me as I realize how far I’ve come.
I couldn’t have imagined I’d be organizing a foundation that will help so many people.
A foundation that represents my family. My team. My future.
Continuing the tradition my grandfather started.
Or that I’d be doing it while falling in love.
Maddie takes our dresses upstairs while I hang Dixon and Watkins’s tuxes on the back of the powder room door, then move back into the family room to join them. “Thanks again for doing this for me, guys. And for getting the other players from the team to help out. I really appreciate it.”
Watkins pats the seat between him and Dixon on the couch, and I drop down between them. “So... I know how you can thank me.”
Dixon smacks the back of Watty’s head.
“What the fuck, dude? I wasn’t going to say that.” Watkins’s smile grows bigger. “Although...”
“Watkins...” Dix growls.
“Whatever, man. I was going to say, put in a good word for me with your friend Carys.”
Maddie dances down the stairs. “Aww, Watty. You’re breaking my heart. I thought we had something special.”
Dixon grabs the remote out of Watkins’s hand and points toward the door. “Out. Get out.”
“Oh my god. I’m kidding, Brandon. Seriously, sit back down.” She grabs the salad in the to-go container next to the pizza and sits down with her feet tucked under her on the other side of the ottoman.