I bite back my smile. “It’s a touchscreen. Haven’t you ever had an iPad or anything along those lines?”
He runs his fingers through his thick, dark, wavy hair. “Nope.” His eyes meet mine. “Please. A two-minute drill. That’s all I need.”
I take his phone from him and turn it on. “What’s the passcode?”
“The salesman helped set it up for me. It’s 0-2-2-9.”
I lift my head and swallow hard. “My birthday?”
He nods. “The day I became a father. That’s my passcode for everything. It’s also the code to my front door. You’re always welcome. No need to knock or ring the doorbell. Just come inside. Anytime. All the time,” he begins rambling. “Whenever. Bring friends. The pool is closed now, but you’re always welcome to use it when it’s open in the summer.”
I don’t acknowledge any of that as I pull up his small handful of apps. There’s one that sticks out right away. I look up at him again. “You’re on a dating app?”
His eyes widen in horror. “Oh…umm…I was just trying it. A…friend recommended it.”
“I’m surprised. I’m sure you don’t have issues meeting women.”
He licks his lips nervously as he admits, “I haven’t dated since your mom. I plan to wait until your brother graduates. I don’t want to confuse him.” He fidgets with the bottom of his shirt. He’s acting like a teenager caught in the act. “Just toying with the app. I’m sure nothing will come of it. I want to learn how to use it before really putting myself out there.”
What the hell? It’s not like I would ever admit this out loud, but my father is an objectively handsome man. He also happens to be a former superstar athlete with a muscular physique and a very full bank account. Does he not realize what a commodity he is? If he’s not looking for skanks, why does he post all those TikTok videos of himself working out? Something doesn’t add up.
And then it occurs to me. There’s no way he has TikTok, or any social media for that matter. He didn’t even have a real phone until now. I quickly scroll through his apps. Sure enough, no TikTok. No other social media. The dating app is the only non-factory setting app on the phone.
I look back up at him again. “How have you been posting all those workout videos if you don’t have TikTok?”
He pinches his eyebrows together. “What workout videos?”
“The ones that have been a mainstay on #SilverFoxTok for two years.”
“What’s a hashbrown silver fox tock?” he asks innocently.
Before I can inquire further, David walks over to us. “Andy Tucker withdrew. I guess he’stuckeredout.” David chuckles to himself. “Will you two warm up with me?”
I nod. “Sure, Double Dees. Do you have a ball?”
He smirks. “I have two, but they’re both old.”
I snort out a laugh. “Double Dees, you’re a degenerate.”
He throws his shoulders back as he stands tall. “Proud of it.”
I guessI will add Dink and Drink Club champion to my resume. My dad and I wiped the floor with our competition. I barely broke a sweat. I then agreed to a short lunch with him while I showed him how to use his phone. He was sketchy as hell about his dating app, but I gave him the tutorial he wanted and desperately needed.
I’m now walking into my brother’s game wearing his team’s sweatshirt. My father gave me one when I was with him and told me how much it means that I’m coming tonight. I reminded him that it’s for Pierce and only Pierce.
He said player announcements would begin at seven, but they’d be there by six if I wanted to come early to hang out. Fat fucking chance of that happening.
At one minute before seven, I walk into the stadium and see all the parents lined up on the sideline with their sons. As I get closer, I notice one female player. That’s cool. There’s a new professional women’s football league, so I guess women playing in high school will start happening more and more often. That didn’t exist when I was in high school. Too bad. I have a rocket of an arm. I could have been the quarterback.
Seeing my mother feels like a punch to the gut. Of course she had her hair blown out. Her face is covered in makeup for a damn high school football game. She’s probably prowling for men here.
Maybe this was a mistake. I turn to leave but hear Pierce shout, “Kennedy!”
I exhale a long breath before slowly and begrudgingly turning around. He’s running toward me. He looksso grown up in his football uniform with eye black on his face. His blond hair is messy from the helmet. But it’s the enormous grin on his face that clutches my heart. He’s so damn happy I’m here.
Suck it up for him, Kennedy. You can do anything for a few hours. Even hang out with the Wicked Witch of Philly.
He crashes into me and wraps his arms around me, lifting and then twirling me around. “Ahhh, you came. I’m so happy,” he shouts with pure glee.
