Monday comes with a flurry of excitement. The Forge will play in the championship this coming weekend against L.A. That means we have to balance media appearances with their final week of training, watching film, medical checkups and meetings about endorsement deals that have come flooding in for a lot of the players.
Today, the team set the press conference first thing and I’ll be leading the team through their workout soon after. With nothing else pressing to do, I decide to head into the media room to watch as Hawk, Todd and Jacques speak to the press. I’m glad to see Reggie in there as well. He deserves some more of the spotlight after that game-winning goal he had on Saturday.
I smile, remembering how much his stats have improved since I started helping the team train.
The media outlets begin with their typical round of questions about the upcoming game and how the guys are feeling about their chances, their teamwork, and L.A.’s starting striker who joined the team from Brazil.
But then the questions turn to what the team has planned for after the season, when many of the players focus on their charity work and various endorsements. Reggie and Jacques talk about returning to their hometowns in Canada, where they’ll be coaching youth programs over the winter.
A hush falls over the room when the cameras turn to Hawk, who seems to have a statement prepared. I lean forward in my seat, curious. He didn’t mention anything about this Saturday night or Sunday, when he spent the day watching movies with Wyatt and me at our apartment.
I thought he’d be hanging out with his brothers all weekend, but no. He said he wanted to watch Toy Story and play Legos. And he didn’t ask me anything about Nick, didn’t press me to talk about my feelings. He was just…there. Present.
Hawk clears his throat. “Thank you for this question. It means a lot to me. As I’ve said before, I was raised by a single mother who didn’t always have the easiest time providing a safe home for me.”
“Hawk, were you the anonymous donor who gave a million dollars to the housing fund in Loudonville?” A reporter stands and barks out the question from the middle of the room. Hawk turns his gaze to the reporter.
“I’ll be happy to take questions in a few minutes. I want to say something, though.” The reporter sits back down, cheeks flushed as the rest of the reporters glare at him. I chuckle, until Hawk starts talking again.
“A lot of women struggle to keep their kids safe, and a big barrier to that is the high cost of quality legal support. I’m excited to announce that I’ve joined the board of the Women’s Legal Support foundation in Pittsburgh.” A hush falls over the room and I feel my heart surge in my chest. I swallow down a bunch of emotions I’m not ready for as Hawk continues talking. “Along with a sizable financial contribution, I’m offering my connections to the foundation, to help spread the word about the good work they do, and about how men who really care about keeping women safe…can do so.”
The reporters all start to murmur and Kioko beams at Hawk, stepping behind him to pat him on the back. “So yeah. That’s how I’ll be spending the off season.” He pauses and leans into the mic again. “Oh, and yes, I contributed to an organization in my hometown that supported my mother when I was a baby.”
There’s a loaded silence in the room and then a female reporter stands up, applauding with her notebook tucked under one arm. Hawk’s teammates at the front table applaud as well and soon the room erupts with excited questions. It all becomes a blur for me, though, as I try to process what’s happening. This man who has for months been telling me he cares, has gone out and shown me how much he means it. I can hardly form words, thinking about how his contribution will help so many women like me, who just need a little bit of support in order to be free.
Hawk fields questions as I stare at him, my fingers clutching the seat in front of me, my heart soaring. He went and threw money at a problem that matters to me. And he’s giving his time and his face to the cause. I feel a strong urge to run up to him and rip his clothes off.
Eventually the room empties out, mostly. Todd gives me a salute as he walks past on his way to his office, but Hawk stops in front of my seat.
I stand up, tears sliding down my face. “Hey,” he says.
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, I leap toward his body, his arms wrapping around me in surprise as I kiss him and try to convey my gratitude that way since words have failed me.
“Lucy,” he breathes into my mouth.
“Hawk, this is everything,” I say between kisses. “Everything.”
“I did it for you. In honor of you, and your strength,” he says, causing another sob to sneak out of my throat.
And then I notice Kioko standing in the doorway, concern clouding his typical smile. He clears his throat. Hawk steps backward and runs a hand through his hair.
Kioko crosses his arms over his chest. “May I see you both in my office, please?”
We walk up to Kioko’s office and don’t speak as we wait for him to join us. A few minutes later, he enters the room with Tim Stag and the lawyer who took over managing Forge business after it was revealed that Tim and Hawk are brothers. I’m relieved to see Tim here today. I’ve come to think of him as a safe and calming person.
Kiko gestures not to the couch, but to the more official table at the back of the room, and we all slip into the chairs as I fight the urge to grab Hawk’s hand.
Tim clears his throat. “It’s come to our attention that a physical relationship has developed between a member of the coaching staff and a player on the Pittsburgh Forge,” he says. He gestures to his colleague. “I happened to begin a review of the Forge employee handbook recently.” He catches Hawk’s eye and I notice a small nod between the brothers. “There is currently no policy in place at all about this sort of relationship and, thus, no policy has been broken.”
Kioko’s eyebrows raise and his face relaxes a few degrees. “Is that so?” He directs this question to Tim’s colleague, who nods rapidly.
Tim continues talking. “Many organizations have policies in place about romantic relationships between management staff and their subordinates, but the world of professional sports seems to be remiss in establishing these sorts of policies. I know this because my firm, as you know, manages many different types of sports teams.” Tim adjusts his tie and explains his assumption that nobody ever stopped to think women might step into these sorts of leadership roles or that same-sex relationships would ever emerge between players and staff. He shrugs. “My former colleague Juniper Jones reminded me that there are a number of Olympic track and swimming athletes married to their coaches. There’s precedent, in other words, for these relationships to exist among successful competition.”
I stare at Tim and turn my head to Hawk, who doesn’t seem shocked about any of this. I start to wonder how much Tim knew about this in advance, whether Hawk confided in his brother or sought advice beforehand. But I’m the one who dove into his arms and kissed him at work.
Kioko scratches his chin. “I cannot abide any additional scandal,” he says. “I’m still reeling from the incident last season.” Tim nods. “But also, this season…this season has been nothing short of spectacular.” Hawk grins. Kioko points a finger at me. “Since you have joined us, you and Hawk both, we have soared to new heights. We have become a team to be reckoned with. That is something special.”
I nod my head, still too stunned to speak. Today has been filled with highs and lows, an emotional roller coaster. Kioko turns to Tim and his staffer. “What is your legal advice in this regard?”
Tim clears his throat again and opens a folder. His colleague smiles. “As I mentioned, I happened to be looking into the employee handbook prior to this event. And I’m not serving the Forge in an official capacity since my brother is a player and I lack objectivity.” Everyone around the table nods. Tim continues. “I recommend this policy, which requires anyone entering a romantic relationship to disclose said relationship to a member of management, who will keep the information discreet.”
The room is silent as everyone considers this and I find it hard to believe things could really be this easy, that it might not actually be a disqualifying factor if I continue to pursue things with Hawk. My mouth hangs open as I look around the table.
Kioko leans toward me and asks, “Lucy, is there anything you wish to disclose at this time?”
Hawk grins and squeezes my leg under the table. I jump. “Um, yes?” Kioko nods and gestures for me to continue. “I, um, would like to disclose a…relationship with one of the players, sir.”
He smiles. “Is that so? And which player would this be?”
I tuck my hair behind my ears and smile. “It’s Hawk. Hawk Moyer.” I nod and stare at him. “I’d very much like to continue to pursue a romantic relationship.”