of this feel…okay. At least I hope so.
I walk down the fancy hall of the hotel, finding the room she said was hers and giving the door a firm knock.
“Oh!” She swings the door open and gasps dramatically, clutching her hand to her chest. “Well I’ll be damned, it’s my beautiful Matthew!”
“Hi, Grandma.” Before I have a chance to give her a hug, she’s got my face in both of her hands and is kissing each of my cheeks over and over again.
“You are as strong as a bull, my boy! Come in, come in!” She pulls me into the entryway and shuffles across the carpet toward a little corner kitchenette. “Would you believe this crazy shit? There’s a whole darn kitchen right here in my hotel room.”
“It’s really a nice place. I hear your potty mouth hasn’t evolved at all,” I say with a smile, slipping off my shoes and following her.
“Oh hell no. You know me. How about some tea? There were some tea bags sitting on the counter when I got here…” She winks at me and holds a finger to her lips. “I’ve been helping myself!”
The first real laugh I’ve felt in days tickles my chest. “Tea sounds great.”
“My darling boy, what have you been up to?” She turns on the silver kettle and points a finger at me. “And I don’t just mean football. I know you guys must be practicing all hours of the day, but what else is new with you? Oh, you’ve always had such a good heart. Have you been volunteering? Suppose you might not have the time…” She pulls out two mugs. “I’m rambling like a dumbass. You talk.”
I take a long, deep breath and wonder how I should even begin to explain to my sweet, loving, angel of a grandmother just how much of a dramatic mess my life outside of football has been. “Well, you know. It’s been a lot of focus on the Super Bowl recently.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I’m sure.” She pours the two mugs of tea and stirs the bag around in each. “But I’m not even slightly surprised. You know, Matthew, I’ve been a football fan since I can remember being a tiny little girl. And you’re the best motherfucking quarterback I’ve ever seen.”
I roll my eyes and cringe a little at her language. Even after almost twenty-six years, I’ll never get used to my sweet old grandma who talks like a sailor. I take the steaming mug from her, giving a soft laugh. “You’re a terrible liar, Gram.”
“Not lying, my boy. That’s why I’m not surprised at all. I’m thrilled for you, bursting at the seams with pride for you…but I knew this day was coming.” She sips her tea. “I’m just glad I’m around to see it.”
Emotion tugs at my chest. “So am I.”
“Let’s go sit, dear. I have a whole living room inside my hotel room. It’s the darndest thing.”
I laugh and shake my head as we sit on the little couch and recliner in the sitting area of the suite.
“Now.” She blows on her tea and gives me a stern look. “I wanted to know about things in your life besides football, yes? You talk about football day and night, you live and breathe it, of course. But what else? I can already tell there’s something. And it’s not something too terribly insignificant, is it, Matty?” For eighty-three years old, her mind is as sharp as a freaking tack.
I puff out a sigh and lean my head back on the couch cushion. “You’re on to me.”
“You’re my only kin. I read you like the damn New York Times crossword puzzle. Which, by the way, I still do every day.” She proudly straightens her bony shoulders. “Now. Spit it out.”
There’s really no point in even attempting to be coy about this. “Okay, Gram. Hold on to that mug tightly, because this one’s a stunner.”
Her brown eyes widen and light up like fireworks. She turns her head to the side and points at her right ear. “I’ll give you my good ear.”
I chuckle and scoot forward on the couch. “All right. Well, I met this woman.”
She claps. “I knew it! Is it the girl in the picture you sent me of you skating at Rockefeller Center?”
Ouch, my soul. That night is the last thing I want to reminisce about right now. “Yeah, that’s Ellie. Anyway, brace yourself, because this isn’t exactly a fairy tale.” The reality of that stings in my chest. “You