Grey Skies

Bonus Chapter

Bonus Chapter

I watched as her little legs traveled up and down the grassy field. She was wearing the green jersey that I finished washing thirty minutes before the game. The battle was in finding where she had misplaced it in the house. After searching every bedroom, tearing through her closet and drawers, and checking underneath her bed, I eventually found the small article of clothing tucked between the couch cushions. Ava offered no explanation for her new storage space, giving me only a smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

I was seated in a camping chair and Davis was seated on the floor in front me, his back pressed against my shins and his legs pulled up to his chest. He swung his bottle in the air as he called out to Ava and told her where to go. He was always in coach mode whenever we went to her games but refused to actually coach the team. He said he didn't want his daughter hating him when he took their scrimmages too seriously, and a four-year-old could really hold grudges, especially when that four-year-old was the spitting image of her mother. 

Ava's thick hair was tightly wound in a single braid that rested between her shoulder blades. She wore a gray headband to hold back her baby hairs that fell onto her forehead and tickled her during her games. 

She was easily the best thing that ever happened to me. Everything in my life that had gone wrong no longer mattered because she erased all things that came before her. I didn't understand what it meant to love someone more than yourself until I held her in my arms. That six-pound bundle had left a permanent weight on my heart, filling it so completely that even on my worst days I had a reason to continue. 

And then there was Davis. I often asked myself what I did to deserve him. God knows I had given him hell in the beginning, pushing any button that I could find, and yet he was still here. Our five-year anniversary was approaching quickly, and though our marriage was still fresh, I had a feeling we would never get old. Every year with him would bring something new. There was always something to learn, to love, or even to argue about. 

I returned my attention to the game and watched as Ava kicked the ball across the field. Davis stood up and cheered for her to continue, earning a few glances from the other parents who were sitting near us. We were definitely that couple and they hated us for it. 

The goalie jumped in place as Ava approached the goal and then flinched when she swung her leg and sent the ball in the left corner. She ran across the field, pulling her jersey off and swinging it in the air. She screamed Aguero as she ran along the sideline. She stopped in front of me and gave me a wide grin. I smiled back, giving her two thumbs up and ignoring the scowl of parents who would have to console their crying children. 

Davis turned around and shook his head at me. "You taught her that." 

"I did not." 

"So you didn't show her the 93:20 clip over and over again?" 

I smiled to myself. I kept my promise and made sure that Ava was a Manchester City fan. She knew all the players and it was my obligation to expose her to the greatest moment in Premier League history: City's win against QPR and Aguero's goal that stole the title from United. Or, in other words, 93:20-- the greatest day in my life and Davis's recurring nightmare. 

Ava and I watched games together every weekend. She enjoyed the games where City faced United the most. She'd taunt her daddy whenever her team scored, jumping onto the couch and hovering over him as she bragged about City and trashed United. I couldn't be more proud. 

After the game, Ava came running toward us. 

"Mama did you see me scored?" she asked, jumping in place until I answered.