“Listen. We’re asking for it,” he said. “Derrick, you grab the flowers. They have those pre-made bouquets, and my mom likes pretty much everything. Seth, you get a couple of bottles of wine. I’ll keep us moving. Remember, get what we need and head to the nearest checkstand.”
“Got it.” They all did a fist bump and half-jogged into the store.
Seth’s optimism wasn’t rewarded. Three Sharks in one grocery store less than two hours after a team victory was a recipe for bedlam, and this was no exception. Seth darted into the wine section, Derrick headed toward the flowers, and Drew heard the first shouted “Go Sharks!” less than thirty seconds later as he tried to head to the ice cream section. He was surrounded by fifteen autograph seekers almost immediately.
“Great game!”
“Will you sign this, ‘To the hottest woman I’ve ever met’?”
“My son’s school is having a fundraising auction. Would you donate a game-worn jersey to it?”
A little girl was tugging on his pants leg. “Would you sign this for my daddy?” She held up an issue of Sports Illustrated with the Miners’ QB on the cover.
The grocery store manager arrived on the run. Drew glanced up from signing autographs and said to him, “Would you please grab a couple of pints of Ben & Jerry’s for me? Something that goes with chocolate cake would be nice.”
“Sure,” the guy said. Seconds later he heard an announcement over the store’s intercom. “Customers, please allow our special guests to get in line at a checkstand. Thank you for shopping at the North Bellevue QFC, and Go Sharks.”
Derrick and Seth had emerged from the floral and wine departments and were attempting to steer a cartful through other Sharks fans who also wanted autographs. Drew managed to pull his phone out of his pocket, punched in his home number, and waited until his mom answered the phone.
“Mom, we’re at the store. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“What’s going on there, honey? It sounds like a mob scene.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be there soon,” he said and ended the call.
The store manager was now attempting to disperse the crowd. “They have places to go too. C’mon. Let’s let them by.” He was also kind enough to open a checkstand just for them, and he walked them out to the parking lot to make sure they got in their cars and away safely.
They pulled into Drew’s driveway less than five minutes later. Drew got out of the driver’s seat and regarded his teammates. “That was interesting.”
“I’ll say.” Derrick waved the register tape at Seth. “We’ll settle up later. Let’s go eat Drew’s mama out of house and home.”
DREW NOTED THINGS seemed a little less tense between his parents than they had been before he’d left for the team hotel last night, but going out with his teammates later was probably out. His dad was back to calling his mother “babe,” and she let him have the spatula to lick after she frosted the chocolate cake. Drew managed to distract Derrick and Seth from this fact. He didn’t need the two of them in the kitchen badgering his mom to let them lick the mixer bowl. He really needed to make sure his mom and dad at least talked about their differences before he took them to the airport tomorrow. He loved his parents, but he needed a few freaking days of peace and quiet.
Drew’s mom took a look at the label on the wine Seth bought and called out, “Honey, are you sure about this? This stuff’s pretty expensive.”
“I bought it, Mrs. McCoy,” Seth said. “It had a ninety-nine from Wine Spectator. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
Bonnie shook her head. “You boys need to learn the words table wine,” but she laughed as she said it.
It seemed like an eternity since he’d awoken in Kendall’s bed, and it had been less than a week. He’d sent her a text the other day:
I can’t stop thinking about you, either.
She hadn’t answered. Maybe she’d counted the cost of continuing involvement with him. He knew he was out of his mind to persist at all; his career would go on, but he worried about hers. What kind of shit would he be if he got her in serious trouble at the office over the party in his pants?
Derrick and Seth were attempting to teach his dad how to play Call of Duty. Drew walked into the kitchen and sat down on one of the bar stools in front of his kitchen island.
“Mom, is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“Why don’t you carry a few of these things to the table for me?”
She indicated a napkin-wrapped basket of bread, the big bowl of salad, and the bowl of mashed potatoes crowned with a big pat of melting butter on top. His stomach rumbled. He missed his mom’s home cooking, and the laughter and teasing between himself and his brother and sisters when they got together for Sunday dinner in Wisconsin when he was on the offseason. She was transferring a gigantic roast from the pan she’d cooked it in to a platter when she glanced up and grinned at him. “It’s a good thing I got the big piece of meat, honey. I’m afraid there won’t be a lot of leftovers.”
“That’s okay, Mom. I’ll have to fly home on the bye week so we can have dinner again.”
He carried the bowls and the bread basket to the dining room table. The wine was already opened and waiting for them. If he offered to pay their plane fare, he wondered if his family would be willing to visit over Thanksgiving weekend this year. He had to play on Thanksgiving, but he would be happy to make himself a turkey sandwich with the dinner leftovers when he came home to a house full of his family members.
One of the few drawbacks to playing in the NFL was the fact holidays weren’t celebrated on the day they happened for most players, who were far from family and friends six months a year. It was a price to pay, but after retirement, he’d make up for all the Thanksgivings and Christmas mornings he missed with his family.
The four men ate until they couldn’t hold any more. Drew’s mom beamed as Derrick shoved his chair back, patted his belly, and said, “Thank you so much, Miss Bonnie. I can’t eat another bite.”
“There’s chocolate cake for dessert,” his mother enticed.
“Well, maybe one more bite,” Derrick said. Drew’s mom reached out to pat him on the cheek. To Drew’s amazement, Derrick blushed and smiled at her like he was five years old or so.
“Where’s your mama and grandma tonight?”
“They’re having dinner at their pastor’s house.”
Seth let out a snort.
“You didn’t want to go?” Bonnie asked.
Derrick glanced down at the table. “This is much more enjoyable,” he said.
Drew’s dad hid his grin behind a napkin.
“Mrs. McCoy, thank you so much for the delicious dinner. Would you like some help with the dishes?” Seth said.
“You boys are so sweet, but I can handle it,” his mother said. Four men stood up from their chairs when she got to her feet.
“No, Mom,” Drew said. “You go relax. We’ll handle the dishes, and then we can have some dessert.”
The guys stacked the dirty dishes, cleared off leftovers, and loaded the dishwasher while Drew’s mom perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island and directed traffic. Even Drew’s dad got in on the action, which he was pleased to see. A few minutes after the last leftovers went into the refrigerator and the dishwasher came on, Bonnie started a pot of coffee, brought out the cake, and sliced large portions for her husband, her son, and his friends.
“Does anyone want some ice cream?” she asked, wielding a big spoon.
“Yes, please.”
“Yes, babe.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Derrick grinned at her. “Will you adopt me?”
“You have a mama and a grandma. I know they spoil you.”
“I can always use more spoiling,” Derrick said.
She handed the cake and ice cream around, cut a much smaller piece of cake for herself, and sat down on the big sectional couch in Drew’s family room.
Seth put his plate down on the coffee table in front of him and pulled
the chirping phone out of his pocket. He handed the phone to Derrick.
“They’re all at Element Lounge,” Seth said.
“There’s a gigantic piece of home-baked chocolate cake with my name on it,” Derrick told him. “They can wait.”
Drew knew Derrick and Seth weren’t going to want to hang out with his parents all night no matter how much food his mom made for them. Sure enough, half an hour later, Derrick carried his plate and coffee cup to the kitchen sink.
“We hate to eat and run, but we’re going to eat and run,” he told Drew’s mom. “Thank you so much for a wonderful dinner.”
Seth wrapped his arms around Bonnie. “It’s the best dinner I’ve had since my mom made me dinner last week,” he assured her. She laughed out loud.
“That’s a pretty big compliment, Seth,” she said.
“You’ll take me in when my mom gets sick of me, right?” Seth said.
“Of course. You’re both welcome.”
“D. Want to go with us tonight?”
Typically, he would. He’d have a drink or two, dance with some beautiful women, and goof around with his teammates, but tonight, he needed to find out if his mom and dad had officially made up before they went back to Wisconsin in the morning.
“Sorry, guys. I think I’ll hang out here.”
“Honey, you can go. We’re going to pack and get some sleep. Really.”
His mom made the “shoo” hand motions, but he wasn’t caving.
“I don’t get to spend that much time with you in the first place. I can spend some time with these guys next week on that flight to Dallas,” Drew said.
“Oh, that’ll be a fun time, won’t it?” Derrick said.
“Hell, yeah. The flight attendants make sure there are freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home,” Seth said. He got up from the couch, hugged Drew’s mom, and shook Drew’s dad’s hand. “I’ll look forward to hopefully seeing you soon.”
“He just wants more of that cake,” Derrick said. “So do I.”
A few minutes later, Seth and Derrick were on their way to the nightclub, and his mom was puttering around in the kitchen again.
“Mom, Dad,” he said. “Would you like another cup of coffee?”
“No, honey. I won’t sleep as it is,” his mother said.
“Thanks, Son, but no thank you.”
“Why don’t we sit down again for a little while?” He gestured to the kitchen table. “We can chat a bit more before you need to get some shut-eye.”
“That’s really not necessary—” his mom said. She was interrupted by his dad.
“We’re fine, Son. Don’t worry about us.”
“Mom. Dad. C’mon.” He sat down at the table. His parents slid into chairs across from him. “What can I do to help?”
His dad let out a sigh. “We don’t need help. This is a disagreement. When your mom quits that job of hers, it’ll be over.”
“I’m not quitting my job, Neil. I’m enjoying it. It doesn’t affect your life at all, so I can’t figure out why you are reacting this way to it,” his mom said.
“You’re not home when I want you to be there—”
“Dad, maybe Mom doesn’t like it when you work overtime or weekends, either. Did you ever ask her?”
“I’m providing for the family. That’s different.”
“Dad, it’s not different.”
“Why are you taking her side?”
“There’s no side. We’re a family. We team up and work together. Isn’t that what you’ve been teaching me my whole life? Did you forget?” Drew said.
His dad’s shoulders were hunched over again, and he didn’t look up from the table. “No, I didn’t forget.”
“Well, then. How can we work this out so everyone will be happy?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, honey,” his mom said.
He put his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “Maybe you should let your partners do some of the overtime and weekends.”
“I’m getting close to retirement. I need to bank that money.”
“Dad. Come on. Work with me here. I know there’s plenty of money for you and Mom, and if you ever needed help, I’m here.”
“We’re not taking money from you.”
“Well, it’s there if you need it,” Drew said. “Mom, will you agree to ask your boss if you can work Monday through Friday unless you’ve made an arrangement with Dad?”
“Honey, the only people who get to work exclusively Monday through Friday during the day are people who’ve been there a lot longer than I have.”
“Ask them. The worst thing they can say is no. Dad, if Mom is making adjustments in her working hours, you’ll need to do that too.”
His dad’s mouth dropped open and shut. No sound came out.
“I mean it, Dad. It’s time to compromise.”
His father’s mouth formed a flat white line, but he nodded.
“In the meantime, Mom, Dad says he misses your special dinners. Can I help with that?”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“I can pay for a chef a couple of nights a week so you can relax and enjoy yourselves, or I can get you some gift cards for restaurants you like. Which would you prefer?” Drew said.
“No, thank you,” Bonnie said. “We don’t need a chef. It’s just the two of us, and cooking a big dinner can be a challenge on weeknights. I tried making some ahead and freezing them, but he didn’t like that, either.”
“Dad—”
“I want to know she thinks of me when I’m not around,” his father burst out. “She always made things nice for me. She’s busy now.”
His mother reached across the table and took her dad’s big meaty hand in both of hers. “I’m always thinking about you, Neil. Why would you believe I don’t?”
“You have other things to do. You don’t cook unless the grandkids come over now. I don’t want to sit and watch TV without you.”
If Drew had ever gotten a hint that maybe he should make himself scarce, that was the time. He’d gotten his parents talking. They needed to sort out their differences on their own. Maybe they needed to make an appointment with their pastor or something, to talk with a trained professional.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
He got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the stairs to his room, grabbing his overnight bag on the way. His parents barely nodded in his direction. His dad was holding his mom’s hand and they were still talking. Hopefully, they’d keep talking.
Drew unpacked his bag and changed into some warm-ups and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs, but maybe that was best. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and sent Kendall a text.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Twenty minutes or so later, he heard footsteps in the hallway outside of his bedroom, and he opened the door a crack to see what was going on. His parents were holding hands and turned into the guest room next door. He heard the door shut behind them. This might be an even better time for him to go downstairs for a while. He loved his parents, but they needed some privacy.
He sat down on the couch in the family room, pulled out the book Kendall had lent him, and kept reading the same page over and over before he finally gave up and threw his forearm over his eyes. Maybe he should watch a little TV; it might relax him. He clicked through the channels until he found a rerun of Treehouse Masters. Maybe he’d hire the guy to build a treehouse in the greenbelt that ringed his backyard.
Drew was interested in watching the TV program, but he couldn’t stay awake. It had been a long day. He usually was in bed by ten on game days. He held up his phone to see what time it was: ten forty-four. Hopefully, his mom and dad were sleeping now. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and heard someone knocking on his front door.
It was pretty freaking late for the guys to drop by and see if the cake was all gone. Maybe one of them left their phone at his house. He hurried to the front door and look
ed through the peephole.
Kendall looked back at him.
Chapter Twelve
* * *
DREW THREW HIS front door open and reached out for Kendall. He pulled her inside his house, nudged the door shut with one elbow, and wrapped his arms around her. He took a deep breath of her green apple scent. She slid her arms around his waist and snuggled against him. He laid his scratchy cheek against her softer one.
“When did you decide you were coming to visit?” he said.
“Last Tuesday morning,” she said.
“How long can you stay?”
“My flight leaves at ten AM tomorrow,” she said. “Quick trip.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t go out with the guys tonight.”
“Yes, it is.”
Their mouths met in a sweet, fleeting kiss. He nibbled at her bottom lip and heard her soft snort of laughter. He had ten hours with her at most. He was exhausted from today’s game, his parents were upstairs, and he was going to be sore as hell later from getting knocked on his ass for three hours by guys who outweighed him, but he’d cherish any time at all with her.
“Would you like the good news or the bad news?” he said. He smoothed the hair out of her eyes.
“I’ll live dangerously and take the bad news.”
“My parents are here. They’re in the bedroom next door to mine.”
“Aren’t they asleep?”
“I don’t think so. That’s why I’m downstairs.”
He felt her laugh. “Oh, no.”
“I understand it’s the twenty-first century, but I do not want to think about my parents having sex, let alone overhear it.” He let out a breath. “Maybe they’re reading the Bible to each other or something.”
“The last time I visited my parents, I found out they can get pretty loud,” she said.
“Reading the Bible?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” she said. “Let’s say I’m happy for them, but I don’t want to know, either.” She looked up at him. “What’s the good news?”
Covering Kendall Page 13