What about football?” Ray asks mid-thumb war. “Is that a serious career path?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, accepting the plate from Jo with a grateful smile. “That’s my main goal—but if it doesn’t work out, I do enjoy working with numbers.”
He nods, sinking into quiet thought. His concentrated expression sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I have no idea what he’s thinking about my prospects—about me. Am I good enough at football; am I good enough for his daughter?
“Dad, what do you think of Randy’s career chances?” Rachel asks from beside me, making my head turn toward her. “Dad has been watching college football since before I was born. It’s his passion, and you use to be quite a good player, didn’t you, Dad?”
“Back in the day, yes, I could play, but I was never at the professional level.” He goes quiet and I wonder if he is going to answer Rachel’s question regarding my potential.
“So, what do you think of my chances?” I ask, the uncertainty flickering behind a practiced calm.
The corner of his mouth lifts; it’s half a smile, but I’ll take it. It’s the closest thing I’ve gotten out of him so far. “You want my opinion?” he asks as Sam slips off his lap and runs into the family room.
“Yes, sir.” I nod.
He accepts a plate of dessert from his wife and reaches for a fork. “I don’t think you need me to tell you how strong your chances are of making the professional circuit.” He breaks off a piece of his pie then looks to me. “I haven’t seen a talent like yours in years, from any college player across the country. If you keep playing the way you are and remain injury free, there is no way you’re not getting drafted, son.”
My chest inflates, maybe from his compliment… or maybe because I’d been holding my breath, bracing for what he’d say. Either way, no matter how many times I have heard people praise me, I don’t think I have ever absorbed it as much as I did in that moment. “Thank you, sir, that means a lot coming from you.” I shift in my chair and take a bite of the dessert. Rachel’s hand falls onto my thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and I shoot her a comforting smile.
“Wow, I don’t know anything about football, but your father must be so proud of you?” Jo asks as she sits down next to her husband.
I give her a reassuring look. “Oh, he passed. Cancer.”
“Oh my,” she says, clutching at her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, and you’re right, he was proud of me.” I give her a reassuring look.
“I would imagine he would be incredibly proud of you now,” Ray adds. “You are very talented. Did he play?”
I swallow some dessert and shake my head. “No, he didn’t play, but followed the NFL very closely. He liked cars, that was his passion. When he found out he had terminal cancer, I was eleven. The very next day he went out and bought my truck for me. We spent the summer repairing it and running over football plays. He taught me so much about cars and football that summer.” I laugh, thinking back on the memory. “I remember telling him that even when I make the big leagues and my first million, I wouldn’t sell that truck. I couldn’t even try to add up all the hours we spent in the shed that summer. He died six months later, and when I turned sixteen, my mom gave me the keys.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. I’m sure you will never forget those memories.”
“Never.” I smile.
Jo gives a small sniff at my story. “So, is it just you and your mom? Any siblings?”
“It’s just the two of us. She lives about twenty minutes away, so I go and annoy her most weekends in the off-season. She’s really excited to meet Sam, and has already offered to babysit more than once. To say she’s excited to be a grandma one day would be an understatement.
“Well, Rachel, already comes with a family. How do you feel about that?”
“Dad.” Rachel frowns.
But Ray ignores her and continues, “You must be used to the party lifestyle, you’re young, free, and in college. You’re a strapping young man, and the Raptors quarterback—you must have women lined up around the block.”
I look down at my plate, I have been waiting for these questions—the party boy meets the single mom.
Ray notices the horrified look on Rachel’s face. “What? I’m your father; it’s my place to ask these questions. If it was up to me, I would have been polishing my shotgun when you two arrived.”
“Ray…” Jo scolds gently.
I look up to meet him dead in the eye, “It’s fine. I get it, honestly. Rachel had the same doubts.” I glance to her as she gives me a look of encouragement. “But I proved to her it’s just her from here on out.” I return my gaze to Ray. “I hope you believe me when I say I just want your daughter—and Sam—and I will do nothing but protect them.”
He studies me, and I can see a little bit of the wall he has been hiding behind break away. Giving a slight nod, it’s clear that he accepts my answer. “Fair enough. You have my approval, but if you hurt them, I hurt you. Got it?”
“Ray,” Jo cautions.
“I won’t even try to dodge the bullet, sir.”
