Despite how Tim’s health had declined, Adaline felt certain that we shouldn’t rush into getting married, and I agreed. It was too hard for him to come visit us in Seattle anymore, so she continued to trade weekends between Washington and Oregon.
And when it came down to where the rest of my football playing career would unfold—it was between those two places.
The expansion team in Portland came for me hard as soon as the season was over, just as my agent promised. Denver made a great pitch too, and I enjoyed my visit there, but it was too far away. Adaline came with me for all the meetings, all the visits, and when the two of us sat down with the final two offers—she told me she loved me and she’d be happy with whatever choice I made.
The money was pretty even, but that wasn’t what would’ve helped me decide in the end.
It had never been about the money.
With the contract signed, and some pictures snapped standing between my new coach and new GM, then a few with Allie—holding the Washington Wolves jersey with my name along the back, I felt that same urge to sprint forward into this next phase of my life.
The paperclip was still in my hands, and as I set down the jersey, I realized that I’d formed a small metal circle, something flimsy and insubstantial.
It looked like a ring, and as soon as I realized what I’d done, my mind raced.
With the press requirements done, I was able to move from behind the desk and go to my family. Adaline hugged me first, and I heard more pictures being snapped as I gave her a deep kiss. She smelled sweet and clean, and just like it always did—holding her in my arms settled something peaceful and warm through my whole body.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered into my ear.
I kissed her again, resting my forehead against hers for just a moment, then hugged each of my sisters. My mom. Then my dad—who was suspiciously bright-eyed.
“Don’t cry,” I told him, as he thumped my back in a bruising hug.
“I’m not crying,” he said, voice gruff. “Just … really fucking happy, son.”
It was a bit of a whirlwind after that—more press, and a few short meetings before Coach walked with me and Dad to the locker room.
I’d still need to prove myself, but so far, every player on the roster who greeted me was excited to have me there. There was no hostility, no guarded looks, no reserved greetings for the son of the defensive coach.
I was their new quarterback, and in just a few months time, we’d take the field as a team—as a family.
The whole time I walked through the halls and fulfilled the signing day requirements, I kept that paper clip firmly in hand.
When I found Adaline, waiting with my mom and sisters in one of the front offices, I watched them from the doorway for a moment before interrupting. It was her sister-in-law Lydia’s office, and on Adaline’s lap was their one-month-old baby, Isla. Isla had a shock of black hair like her dad, a button nose and a scream that could wake the dead.
Everyone in the Wilder family adored her.
Was it terribly neanderthal of me that I couldn’t wait for her to be pregnant with our first child? Adaline and babies did something to me.
That paperclip ring felt like it was burning a hole through my hand.
Adaline was telling them a story that had my sisters cackling, something about when I cracked my elbow on the shower wall in our rental.
“So that’s why,” Adaline said, “our house will have the most obnoxiously large shower room that’s ever existed.”
“Because he hit his funny bone,” Isabel said with a shake of her head. “What a man thing to do.”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “I’m not even here to defend myself.”