I need to lighten the mood, though. I don't want her worrying about what's going on with me. "Anything?"
She stops what she's doing and side-eyes me. "That depends," she studies me for a few seconds, "why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like whatever you're about to ask me?"
She probably won't be happy, but I'm going to shoot my shot, anyway. "When are you going to bring your bartender friend around?"
"Seriously? We're doing that again?" She rolls her eyes and continues going through the stock.
"What's so wrong with me asking?" The paper thuds and the pen clatters as I toss them on the counter. "She's single, I'm single. Maybe we can be single together."
"Dude," Lisa sighs, "she's way older than you and has two kids."
"I like kids." It's a little weird she's using that as an excuse. "I throw the ball around with David all the time. He's like my little best friend. Aside from you, of course."
"They areteens, Eric." She says it as if that says everything I need to know.
"So is my brother," I wave my hand in the air. "I fail to see the problem here." She's making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be.
"Look," she stops going through the shelves and turns toward me, "I love you. You know that, right?"
"Yes," I draw out.
"I just don't want either of you getting hurt." She picks up a towel and absent-mindedly wipes down the countertop, "she hasn't been out of her marriage long, and she's going to apply to work here. The last thing I need is for y'all to hit it off for a few nights and then make things awkward here when we're working."
Talk about a punch to the gut. Without saying the actual words, I see how she feels about me. "Geez, don't hold back."
"That's not what I mean, Eric." She moves toward me, leaving the towel behind, "I know more than anyone you're a massive flirt. How many people have you taken home in the past month? She has kids to worry about."
"First of all, I've only taken like two women home." I hold up one finger to make my point. Then another one. "Secondly, she's an adult. I'm an adult. How about we let her make her own decisions?"
"You know what? You're right." She holds her hands in the air, "the both of you can decide what to do if she comes around again." She grabs the notepad I set on the counter and heads toward the hallway that leads to the office. "Just don't put me in the middle."
Other areas of my life may be falling apart, but all I heard is there's a shot. That tiny bit of hope is all I need.
2
Joan
"Mom!"
I swear this is the tenth time my name has been yelled from across the house since I've been home. I don't bother yelling back. It drives me up the wall when the kids do it, and maybe if I show them the proper way to converse with me, they'll mimic. I feel like it's a lost cause at this point, though.
At least I'm not tripping over equipment as I make my way down the hall to my son's room. "Yes, Isaac, what is it you need?"
He jumps, and I stifle a laugh. "I didn't realize you were right freaking there."
"I wasn't. I walked in here to talk to you like a normal person." Leaning against the door frame, I take in his room. It needs to be cleaned, but it's not as bad as it usually is. "What do you need?"
"Have you seen my cleats?" The plus side is I know they aren't in the middle of the floor because I didn't trip over them. The downside...I haven't seen them. "My teammate will be here any minute and I need them for practice."
"Did you look in your closet? Or, even the hall closet?"
He shakes his head vehemently. I bet he didn't even look. "They aren't in there. It's the first place I checked."
"Did you ask Grandpa? He may have moved them somewhere."
"That's a good idea." He rushes past me in search of my dad. I seriously doubt my dad had anything to do with his cleats going missing, but it's worth a shot.
I take a few steps into his room and glance around the floor. Then check his closet. He may have looked, but probably not thoroughly. He's right, though. They aren't in his closet. There's only one more place they can be.
