Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

“That was quite a speech, Paigey,” I said, leaning over to help her cut her steak.

“I’ve been practicing.” She sat straighter, turning to Jordan. “Now, before we get too much into the celebrations, we need to talk about that defensive line and their low sack record. Jones is too big and powerful for him to not have at least ten this season.”

Jordan smiled, listening intently as Paige continued on, offering her suggestions and advice on virtually every single player and coach and play by the time we’d finished eating. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise — not that I minded. My heart was full sitting at that table with my animated, passionate daughter and my kind, patient…

Whatever he was.

My stomach flipped, and I sipped down the last of my champagne before I stood, starting to clear the table.

“Cake?!” Paige asked excitedly, clapping her hands together and bouncing in her chair as she looked up at me.

I laughed. “In a little bit. Why don’t you go play in your room for a while.”

“But, Mom,” she groaned, her little nose wrinkling as she thrust a hand toward the television. “The Vols are playing Alabama. This is like the most important game of the season.”

I hung a hand on my hip, balancing the stack of plates in the other. “Jordan has spent the entire day playing football with you,” I reminded her. “Ever think that maybe he needs some adult time? You can watch it in your room.”

“Actually…” Jordan said, raising one finger up. He grimaced when I looked at him. “I really want to watch this game, too.”

“See?” Paige said, dragging out the vowels. “Come on, Mom. We’re celebrating tonight, remember? Football and cake and then I swear I’ll leave you guys alone.” She clasped her hands together. “Pleeeeease.”

Jordan mimicked her, poking out his bottom lip until I rolled my eyes and tossed one of the dirty napkins at each of them to the sound of their laughter.

“I am so outvoted in this party of three and I am not okay with that.”

“Thank you, Mama!” Paige stood on the chair to kiss my cheek before she leapt down off it and scampered into the living room, calling for Jordan to follow.

He stood, helping me carry the rest of the dishes to the sink, and when he glanced over my shoulder and found Paige glued to the television, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into him subtly.

“For the record,” he said, whispering in my ear with his hot lips brushing my neck. “I really am looking forward to adult time.”

His hand slid down, cupping my ass and squeezing it before he released me, and a flush burned through me as I bit my lip and swatted him away. He just grinned at me over his shoulder, and then he plopped down on the couch next to Paige, both of them kicking their feet up on the coffee table.

My hands were on autopilot as I washed the dishes, throwing some directly into the dishwasher after I rinsed them and spending time scrubbing the others. I found comfort in the warm, soapy water, glancing at Jordan and Paige in the living room from time to time, my thoughts wandering.

It melted my heart to see them together.

Jordan had been so comfortable with Paige from the start, and she was the same with him. It was like they were best friends from the very moment they spoke in the park. Paige counted down the days until she could spend an afternoon in the backyard running football drills with Jordan, and he never seemed to mind her stealing a Saturday of his. In fact, if I had to put money on it, I’d say he looked forward to it just as much as she did.

My stomach soured as Randy floated into my mind, as he still tended to do, this time as I compared his relationship with Paige to the one Jordan was building. It wasn’t that he and Paige weren’t close, or that Paige didn’t look up to him and love him dearly, but I couldn’t help but note that they’d never spent time together the way she and Jordan had. Randy had always put work first, from the very moment he was promoted to Chief of Police, and Paige and I had taken the backseat willingly, lovingly, with understanding and grace.

I wondered what they did when he had her for half the week.

I always did my best not to pry, not to ask her about her father when I already knew we’d put her in a tough position being the daughter of divorce. And, to Paige’s credit, she never volunteered what they did. It made me wonder if she ever talked about our time together, or if she kept that between us, too.