I haven’t seen him since we got to Vegas because he’s been ridiculously busy with the team and media events, like he has been the last few weeks after winning the NFC Championship. I completely understand, though, and have stolen every moment with him that I can. Soon, it will all be over and we can finally spend a few months together in the offseason, free of his rigorous schedule.
There’s been nonstop, next-level texting though. Always flirty little numbers like this conversation we had shortly after landing last night.
Me: Hi hot stuff. We’re in Vegas!
Nathan: I thought the day suddenly seemed brighter.
Me: Stooooppppp jk it’s so gross and I love it. Keep doing it.
Nathan: :） Miss you. Please don’t get drunk and elope with any strange dudes tonight.
Me: Gosh you’re so picky.
Nathan: Damn straight. Only man you can elope with in Vegas is me.
Me: Oh good. Because you’re the only one I want to elope with. How about tonight?
Nathan: Can’t tonight. I’m busy. How about tomorrow night? I have a little thing from like 6:30-10:30 but after that I’m free.
Me: Sure! Sounds good!
Now, Lily and I are walking to our provided box at the stadium, strapped into painful high heels and Saran-wrapped in fashionable designer dresses a la Marshalls.
Except, because I’m me and can’t be counted on to completely conform to societal fashion norms, I’ve also paired my cute, white, bodycon dress with a black jersey （with Nathan’s number 8, of course） cinched with a little knot in the front.
Something I learned early on in Nathan’s career: NFL wives and girlfriends live by a strict fashion code, and that code is fancy AF at all times. As his friend only, I was free to go to the games in sneakers and a t-shirt. As his girlfriend…actually, who cares. I’ll still come to the games in whatever I want. Today, I wanted to wear heels and dress up. Next game, it might be a onesie with a hood. No one can ever really predict what’s going to happen with my sartorial choices.
After being shown to the box, we step inside and find Vivian, Nathan’s mom, already here and sucking up all the oxygen with her big ego. She’s swirling the olives in her martini glass, looking like she’s got at least ten snooty comments on the tip of her tongue.
“Hi, Mrs. Donelson, it’s good to see you again.” I smile and hold out my hand like a car salesman. Wanna buy this load of crap? Normal people hug in situations like this. But let’s all remember that Vivian Donelson is far from normal, and she’s always seen me as a threat to Nathan’s career. In other words, she hates me.
Those dark eyes—similar to Nathan’s but in a haunting way that makes you think they never shut—slither down to my extended hand. “Next time, you’ll do well to get a manicure before a big game like the other players’ wives and girlfriends. And leave the tacky bracelets at home. They don’t fit in this world.” Those eyes slide back up. Hand: unshook. “No one likes a hippie sitting in the NFL wives’ section.”
Lily steps forward like she’s going to rip her earrings out of her ears and pummel this woman Wreck-It Ralph style. I grab her forearm and stop her, because I don’t need her to fight this battle for me. I’m not even stung by her words. All I feel right now is sadness for Nathan. To have grown up with such an exacting, demanding mother would have been excruciating. No wonder he feels swamped by pressure and expectations. I’m also in awe of him for overcoming this woman’s influence and becoming such a generous, kind person in spite of her. It just proves that money is not what defines a person; it only enhances their nature.
Well, it’s time Mrs. Donelson is enlightened about her nature and what sort of effect it has on the people around her. Nathan has really stepped away from his parents over the last few weeks as per the suggestion of his therapist and has been committed to implementing new boundaries. He’s opened up to me about things from his childhood that I had no idea about and also talked frankly about his mom’s attitude toward me specifically. He was clear from the beginning of our new relationship that I never have to wear a gag around his mom. I’m free to speak my mind and stand up for myself with his full, unwavering support.