my dad’s jersey, so we both get to keep it.
Sunday football never became exactly what it used to be.
It couldn’t.
Gavin’s chair was still empty.
But Maisie started sitting closer to me, explaining plays the way he once explained them to her.
One afternoon, she paused the game and pointed at the screen.
“Mom, do you know what the safety is supposed to do?”
I remembered Gavin asking her almost the same question when she was six.
“Stops people from being safe?”
Maisie stared at me in horror.
Then she burst out laughing.
“Dad would be so disappointed in you.”
“Your father knew what he was getting into when he married me.”
She shook her head and started explaining the play anyway.
I understood maybe half of it.
But while she talked, I looked at Gavin’s jersey, the signed football, and the little girl who had finally
