“Is this a signed Michael Jordan baseball?” she asks.
“Sure is,” I say with a laugh. “That one’s actually worth something.”
“No kidding. I bet it is.” She looks back at me and smiles. “I didn’t know you were into collecting.”
“Just a few sports stuff,” I say with a shrug.
She wanders over and puts her bag down on the couch. “Smells good,” she says, nodding at the kitchen.
I lead her over to the table. It’s a small table, pushed back in the corner. It’s usually covered in game material and playbooks, but tonight I straightened up and put out silverware. I grab her plate and carry it over before pulling out her chair.
“Your dinner,” I say.
She grins and sits. “This is nice,” she says. “Seriously. This is how a football coach lives, huh?”
“This is how a single, young assistant coach lives,” I correct. “The head coach lives a little bit better.”
“I’m sure.”
I carry over my plate and the bottle of wine. I pour her a glass then fill up my own before sitting. She eyes the food then eyes me before tilting her head to the side.
“What?” I ask.
“Most college guys just want to go out for pizza and beer,” she says.
“Is that what you’re into?” I ask. “That would’ve been easier.”
“No, it’s not.” She sips her wine. “Not at all. Good wine.”
“Thanks, glad you like it.” I take a sip and shrug. “I’m not normally a wine guy, but every once in a while I can get down with it.”
She laughs. “Get down with it?”
“That’s not what the kids say these days?”
“Oh, god. You’re ancient.”
“I’m barely ten years older than you.”
“So what? That’s a lifetime.”
“Maybe for a kid born in the twelfth century,” I say, grinning. “But go ahead and eat.”
She nods and picks up her fork. I try not to stare at her while she eats, but I can’t help myself. She’s a beautiful girl, stunning really, and her lips look incredible. She seems to like my cooking, so I relax a little and start eating myself.
“Where’d you learn to do this?” she asks.
“My mom,” I say. “My dad taught me how to tackle, and my mom taught me how to cook.”
“That’s actually sort of sweet.” She laughs. “The only thing my mom ever taught me was math.”
“Really?”
“She was a high school math teacher at this super important private school.” She shrugs a little. “She’s kind of tough. But a good math teacher.”
“You guys get along?”
“I guess, good enough anyway. Better as I get older.”
I smile a little. “It’s always like that,” I say. “When you’re young, they can’t help but see you as a kid. Once you move out though, they’ll start seeing you as a person. And you’ll start seeing them as one, too.”
She hesitates. “I don’t think I want to see my parents as actual humans.”
“Tough,” I say, grinning. “You can’t really help it. Just how things go.”
She sighs. “Fair enough. Could be worse.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s an engineer.”
“Ah,” I say softly. “I bet they’re really happy with their daughter, the English major.”
She gives me a look and laughs. “That about sums it up.”
“If it helps at all, my mom didn’t want me playing sports. She tried teaching me to cook when I was young to keep me from playing sports.” I hesitate for a moment. “But she passed a while back. I’m not sure what she’d think of my job now.”
“Oh,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter. It’s just, my dad worked a lot back then,” I say. “Always busy with his company. On the weekends, he’d come home, put on the game, and stare at it for hours. My mom would always complain, but he’d never change, said he needed to unwind. I think she started to associate sports with that feeling of being alone or abandoned.” I shrug a little bit. “Hard to say, exactly.”
“What did you father do?” she asks.
“He owned an internet company called Bushing Telecom. But the company just merged with this other company named Cork, so now it’s BC Telecom. I think he’s getting ready to retire.”
“Oh, wow.” She frowns and pokes at her food. “My parents were pretty boring in comparison.”
“Any siblings?” I ask.
“Older brother,” she says. “You?”
“Younger sister. Got married before me, to the CEO of that Cork company, actually. My dad was pretty happy about it.”
“It must’ve been hard for him, raising two kids on his own.”
“He managed. Lavished a lot of attention on my younger sister because, well, she was younger and needed it. I mostly took care of myself growing up, and it suited me. Helped me become the man I am today.”
“Sounds like it was hard though.”
“It was,” I agree. “But it’s all in the past now.”
“I can’t say I went through anything like that,” she says. “My parents were both around, both loving. They pushed me hard in academics, but I can’t blame them.”