CAMDEN
August’s heatrolled right on into September. After multiple conversations and a visit to meet the faculty, I enrolled Paisley at the School for the Deaf, and so far, she has been loving it. She said she hasn’t had to worry about fitting in, which has made learning a lot easier. Nadine shows up early every morning to drive Paisley to school because I don’t have time to take her before I need to be at the complex. I’m not sure what Nadine does during the day, spending some of her $200K, I guess, but she picks up my sister in the afternoon and hangs out with her until I return home.
Although, this is the first weekend I’ll be away. With the regular season kicking off, I’ll be out of state basically two weekends every month, and Nadine will be sleeping at my place while I’m gone. Including the nights before home games, when the team all stays in a local hotel to make sure we’re in peak form for the game. And I try desperately not to picture what she sleeps in. I’m hoping it’s a full-on onesie so she’s covered from neck to toes. It’s the only option that doesn’t give me a semi when I think of it.
After the team’s walk-through today, we had a short meeting to go over some last-minute details for our trip, then CoachRoberts sent us home with instructions to get a good night’s sleep and that he’d see us tomorrow to board the bus, which would take us to the airport to fly us to Kansas City. We lost our first game to Dallas last weekend, and while I played well, I was still basically treated like the enemy even though we were on our home turf. One guy even threw his beer on me as I walked into the tunnel after the game.
I’ve been working on visualizations with Pearce to help keep me grounded, so I visualized ripping that fucking guy’s head off. Not doing so earned a couple of backslaps from teammates, and the ones who still held on to some anger from last season seemed to let it go after that incident. Because, I suppose, it’s one thing for me to be booed, but it’s another to take a can to the head without a helmet.
I open up the door to my apartment to blaring music, “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” coming from a speaker in the kitchen, where Paisley and Nadine dance in front of the stove, something cooking that smells delicious. I quietly set my bag down and kick off my sneakers so my socked feet don’t make a sound as I cross the hardwood floor, sneaking onto a stool at the counter, their backs to me.
Nadine signs something to Paisley that I don’t catch, but it’s clearly a direction to grate some fresh Parmesan cheese over the pot, and when she struggles to, Nadine helps, showing my sister how before going back to bopping around, hips swaying, using a big spoon as a microphone to sing terribly off-key to Paisley, who laughs at her antics.
“Voilà!” Nadine says and signs. “Nice work. See how easy it was to make this? Once you make it enough, you’ll remember all the ingredients and how much.” She slides her arm around Paisley, gives her a quick squeeze, and then signs, “You get the plates, and I’ll get the drinks.” That’s when she swings around and notices me, jumping in place. “Oh my god!”
She lowers the music as I wave my hand. “No, please, continue. I was enjoying the show.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever witnessed Nadine blush, and it’s cute. Even if she tries to cover it up. “You’re a creep. How long have you been here?”
Paisley pivots around too, smiling in my direction, signing, “I made dinner.”
“Smells great,” I say and sign then look to Nadine. “I’ve been here long enough to know you are a genuinely terrible singer.”
“Your sister doesn’t think so.”
When I shoot Nadine a bland look, she asks my sister, “Should we allow him to eat with us?”
Paisley plays it up, tilting her head side to side, but eventually gives in, signing, “I guess.”
“So nice of you both.”
I help them scoop out servings of the butternut squash and rigatoni as Paisley explains how Nadine loves to cook, and that she promised they’d make a new meal together every week. “It’s a life skill everyone should have.” Nadine sits opposite me at the dining room table that I’ve never used. Until now. “This one is so easy, even you can make it.”
I ignore the jibe and dig into the meal. It’s delicious. “I have a chef so I don’t have to cook.”
“But do you really enjoy all those reheated meals? Putting everything in the microwave?”
I shrug. “It’s easy, and it’s not like I have a lot of time on my hands to make something like this.”
“I can make this for you again,” Paisley volunteers, though she reconsiders with a wince, her hands dropping so low, I almost can’t see her signing behind the edge of the table. “If you like it, I mean.”
“I love it,” I tell her, and she grins proudly.
And I am so proud.
Only a few weeks ago, she was miserable, would barely come out of her room or meet my eyes, and now she’s talking and having fun. She’s happy.
We chat for a while about Paisley’s classes and the friendsshe’s made. Nadine chimes in that she thinks she’s going to sign up to volunteer at the school, which has Paisley wiggling like a puppy. Then after the girls have ice cream for dessert, and I swallow down a protein shake, we all clean up together.
Like some quaint little family.
I used to get itchy thinking about kids. Didn’t like the idea of settling down. Couldn’t imagine wanting to come home instead of going out. Except I look forward to opening my door now. I enjoy being here with my sister. With Nadine.
Paisley heads to the living room, letting the guinea pigs out to make a mess of the cream rug with all of the hay and blueberries she sets in a line, hoping they’ll follow it. They don’t.
Nadine watches, leaning in close to me, murmuring, “She’s been trying to train them, but…”
My sister lies on her stomach, clicking her tongue, holding out a blueberry in her hand, but neither one of the little guys comes to her. Instead, they share a piece of hay, munching on it like the spaghetti scene inLady and the Tramp.
