I finally did see Everett Ford. He was the very last person to pass us, when we were just at the edge of the lot. He didn’t seem to notice that we were there.
I gathered up my courage. “Good game,” I said.
“Thanks.” He didn’t look over.
“I hope your car is ok. After the rollover accident,” I added. “And I hope things worked out with your wife.”
That made him stop, and he stared at us. “What? What did you say?” he asked me.
“I just—I was saying—”
“Geez, Zoey,” my sister said. “This is you flirting? No wonder you’re always alone.”
“Be quiet,” I told her. I wasn’t flirting! I was just saying hello and making conversation.
Everett Ford had walked closer, and he looked at me through the gathering darkness. “I think I remember you,” he said, and Willow gaped at him in shock. I’d told her what had happened all those months ago, but she hadn’t been very interested.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “I’m Zoey.”
He rubbed his jaw. “Did we meet at Woodsmen Stadium?”
“I was there with my class on a field trip and you threw up on the floor and on me, too,” I reminded him helpfully.
“Right,” he said slowly. “My wife left me so I got drunk and then puked. I was also demoted that day and I wrecked my car.”
“I saw you again at the bar where I work, but you took off before I could give you coffee. I thought your luck was so bad that I checked later to see if you were found dead or hurt somewhere. Obviously not, because you just had a great game.”
There was a short pause. “Thanks,” he repeated.
“The day we met definitely wasn’t good for you, but the first graders had very a nice tour of the stadium. I got a new shirt for free due to the vomit,” I explained.
We had all stopped walking and it was totally silent for another moment before he said, “Yeah. Not a good day for me.” Then he moved again, getting away from us.
“What the hell, Zoey?” she demanded. “Is that really how you talk to guys?”
“No!” When did I ever talk to guys? “I was only reminding him of how we met.”
“Yeah, you reminded him of a ton of awful shit and then he ran off. Great job.”
“Be quiet,” I muttered again. I already felt like an idiot and I didn’t need her to point out that I actually was.
We had reached my car when it happened. It happened!
“Zoey,” Everett Ford called, and both my sister and I turned in surprise.
“Yes?” I asked. My voice squeaked and Willow snorted.
“What’s your last name? I remember that it started with an H.”
“Tell him and give him your number, too,” she hissed.
“It’s Harmon,” I said, and I recited my phone number.
“Got it.” A few moments later, his headlights shone across the parking lot and then he pulled out.
And my sister and I stared at each other. She put her palm on her forehead and shook her head, just like our dad used to do. “I’ll be damned,” she said.
That summed up my feelings as well.
