full drive without asking questions.
Gavin could spend an entire Sunday explaining formations to Maisie as though she were preparing for an exam. She loved every second of it, especially because he had a habit of forgetting her bedtime whenever the game was close.
Their favorite player was veteran wide receiver Cole Brennan.
Gavin owned his jersey, defended him whenever he had a bad game, and once spent twenty minutes explaining to Maisie why one impossible catch proved Cole was “built differently.”
I usually watched the two of them more than I watched the television.
Then, one ordinary weekday morning, Gavin kissed us goodbye and left for work.
By late afternoon, two police officers were standing at my door.
For months afterward, even turning on a football game felt wrong.
Maisie stopped wearing her father’s jersey. She didn’t ask about scores and no longer argued when Sundays passed without
