Thank. God.
He gently helps me lift my ankle, gingerly setting it atop the cooler before reaching forward and picking the bag of ice off my lap where I left it.
"Thanks," I say as a sharp whistle blows. Grant double-checks the placement of the ice before giving me a quick nod and jogging onto the field.
Crisis averted.
Now I have more things to tell Jo, but that can wait ‘til later.
Watching little kids play soccer for the first time is entertaining. They all trail after the ball like little ducklings. The boys take turns kicking the ball in any direction except toward the goal. As much fun as it is, I find myself distracted most of the game, too busy checking Grant out instead of watching my nephew.
What is it about seeing a man with kids that makes him seem a thousand times more attractive? I mean, he could be an average Joe, but the minute he hugs a crying five-year-old?
Boom ovaries explode.
By some miracle, Mason managed to score three goals by the end of the game. He must have a never-ending source of energybecause even after chasing the ball for the entire game he still has enough energy to run laps. I have no idea how my sister puts up with it all.
Confined to my chair, I watch Candice pass out snacks to Mason’s teammates. I could start packing up my chair, but with the pain in my ankle now a dull thrum, I might as well sit here a bit longer before walking back to the car.
A cute little boy with dark blonde hair stands in front of me, orange pulp caked across his cheeks as I watch my nephew run in circles. He turns, looking behind him before saying, "Hey, Daddy? I want my juice, but this lady has her foot on it."
Daddy?
Grant comes jogging over, a warm smile on his face. "Just a moment, bud," he says to his son as he ruffles his hair. "How's the ankle?"
I slide my foot off his cooler a little embarrassed that I didn't figure out that Grant has a kid. Of course, he would have a kid. You don't see childless men coaching soccer. That'd be weird.
"I'll survive." I smile back at him. "Thank you again. You didn't have to do that." I try to hide my cringe of pain as my foot hits the ground.
"You're welcome. I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress, especially one that compliments me."
Sonowhe wants to acknowledge what I said? Great.
I force a polite laugh, dying on the inside. “I’ll let you have your cooler back.” Everyone around us is packing up so it's time to put my ankle to the test. Bracing my weight on my uninjured leg, I stand. To my surprise, it's not as painful as I thought it would be. I'll still be a gimp but walking back to the car shouldn't be too much of a hardship.
Grant holds his hands at my side almost like he's worried I'll topple over, poised and ready to catch me if I should fall. "Are you good to walk?"
"All good." I focus on keeping my mouth shut. The last thing I need right now is to embarrass myself even further than I already have.
The cute little boy digs around in the cooler and pulls out a bottle of Gatorade. "Dad, can you open this?" He holds it up to his father expectantly with the sweetest look on his face.
Ugh. It’s too cute.
I start packing up my chair, hoping no one sees the indentations in the soft ground where my seat has started to sink.
"Auntie Haze!" Mason's dark hair weaves through the dispersing crowd coming right for me. He looks more like his dad with his golden skin, dark eyes, and black hair. The freckles though, he gets from his mom, and me by default since it’s the only other thing we seem to have in common.
Mason takes a running leap and I'm barely able to drop my chair as he flings himself in my arms."I scored so many times! Did you see me?" I kiss his sweaty temple and squeeze him tight hiding my wince of pain as I put our combined weight on my uninjured leg.
"I sure did. Are you sure you're only five? You looked like a pro out there."
He giggles and shakes his head. "You're silly, Auntie Haze."
"I know," I chuckle, squeezing him one more time before setting him back on the ground. Mason is my favorite little boy in the whole world. He's also the only little boy I know, but whatever.
Tony finally appears and helps Candice grab all their chairs, throwing them over his shoulder as we head to the parking lot.
"Where have you been? I didn't see you at all." My eyes are glued to the ground, keeping an eye out for possible danger zones, my chair bouncing against my hip with each wobbling step.
