Callan spoke to me the other night about a “football brain,” and I’m beginning to see he has it in spades. He explained it like someone who can make the right split-second decisions, is always fully aware of the space around him, and has the ability to quickly predict how an opponent will react or move.
I’m clearly no expert, but Callan appears to be a textbook definition of a player with a football brain if this performance is any judge.
At one point, there are five guys converging on Callan, but he deftly maneuvers around them to smash the ball in the top corner of the net. The goalie throws himself in the right direction, but his fingers only brush the edge of the ball as it soars over his head.
The Raiders are crushing the other team and making it look easy.Callanmakes it look easy. When the whistle blows, signaling the end of the game, every Raiders supporter is up on their feet, cheering and shouting as we win seven to nil. Callan scored a hat trick, and it’s no surprise to anyone when he’s named man of the match.
Watching Callan out on the field, sporting the biggest, most genuine grin, laughing and joking with his excited teammates, I feel his passion as if it were a tangible thing. He’s in his element out there, and it’s obvious he’s hugely talented. I can more readily understand his upset at being dragged away from his Irish team, but he’s overlooking the potential in his new situation.
Callan outplayed every other player on that field today. Our team is decent, but we were lacking a player of Callan’s caliber, and with him on board, they are going to be unstoppable. Very soon, anyone who is anyone in US soccer will know his name, and who knows what kind of doors that will open for him?
“Hey, Mara. I came to see Gwen,” I tell Gwen’s gran when she opens the front door to me. “We’re doing our homework together.” Gwen has to work super hard to get decent grades, and I do what I can to help her.
“Astrid. You grow more beautiful every time I see you.” Mara shuffles back with her walker to let me enter the small bungalow she shares with her only granddaughter.
“Thank you.” She says the same thing every time I drop by, which isn’t often because Gwen prefers to come to my place to study. I know looking after Mara is a big responsibility, and some days, she just needs a change of scenery. “How are you?” I ask, unzipping my bag and extracting the box Mom gave me.
“I’m doing okay, sweetie. My legs aren’t getting any better, but I count my blessings I’m still mobile.”
She’s always so positive, which I admire because her arthritis has restricted her life so much, especially in the past three years, and I know it’s painful for her too. “Mom gave me these for you. Red velvet, vanilla, and maple cupcakes from the bakery.”
“Your mother is an angel. I’ll enjoy these with my coffee.”
“I’ll put them in the kitchen for you.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Her face pulls into a grimace as she slowly maneuvers the walker around. “How are your parents doing?”
I keep step alongside her as she pushes the walker slowly along the hallway. “Mom’s great, and Dad still misses you at the office. Delores tries, but she can’t live up to your legacy.”
“Nonsense.” She hides another grimace when she reaches the door to the sitting room. “I helped recruit my replacement, and Delores is the best.”
“I’m sure she is,” I say, walking with her to the couch. “But she’ll never be you, and that’s the problem.”
Mara worked as Dad’s head receptionist at the dental practice he owns in town for twenty years before she was forced into early retirement two years ago. Dad worshipped the ground she walked on. After Gwen came to live with Mara when she was eight, my parents invited them over regularly and did whatever they could to help Gwen settle. It’s how Gwen and I became friends.
Mara had gone to court to fight Gwen’s mom—her only child—for custody after she learned how bad the situation was for her granddaughter. I’ll never forget how quiet and fragile Gwen was when she first moved here or how long it took her to trust and confide in me. Thank God her gran took her in when she did. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if she’d stayed with her despicable mother any longer.
After I help Mara onto the couch, I make her a coffee and set it and a cupcake on the end table in the sitting room, where she can easily reach them. Then I head upstairs to my bestie.
Gwen is lying on her stomach on her bed with earphones in, singing out of tune, when I slip into her room. She screams when she spots me, bolting upright and slapping a hand over her chest. “Jesus, Azzie, you scared the shit out of me.” She tugs the pods out of her ears and pulls herself upright.
I kick off my shoes and grin. “You knew I was coming over, and how loud is that music if you didn’t hear me ring the doorbell?”
“Music calms my soul.” She drops her phone into her lap as she sits against the headboard. “Speaking of. That band I mentioned is playing in Burlington next month. We should go. Maybe it can be a double date.”
I pull books out of my bag as I sit on the edge of her bed. “I don’t see how when neither of us is currently dating.”
“Pfft.” Gwen scoffs. “Let’s not kid ourselves. By this time next month, you’ll be dating Callan, and I’ll be dating Scott.”
“Doubtful. Has something happened with Scott already?” I toe off my sneakers and climb onto the bed, snatching my math book first.
“What do you think of him?” she inquires, holding her phone in her hand.
“I’ve always liked Scott. He’s a nice guy, and he’s hot though not my type.” To be fair, as gorgeous as the upgraded version of Scott is, I’m not sure he’s Gwen’s type either, but I’d love to see her with someone nice. She tends to pick the bad boys, and it never ends well. I’d love to see Gwen all loved up. She struggles to love and be loved, and I just want her to find someone who appreciates her for all the ways in which she is amazing. “But I can appreciate a good guy when I see one, and he’s one of the good guys for sure. I totally approve. I think he’d treat you really well, and you deserve that.”
“We don’t always get what we deserve.” A dark look crosses over her face before her features brighten. “If we did, I’d win the state lottery and have enough money to hire a full-time caregiver for Nana.”
“She seems to be in a lot of pain,” I supply.
