I finally meet his gaze. “Kyle mentioned it?” I ask. It’s just like my brother to fail to tell me important things, like Taysom Reed might come to visit. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”
His eyes squint. “I want to say six years, maybe,” he says. “We had sushi.”
I study him, angry at my heart for wearing flip-flops all around the inside of my chest. There are echoes of the kind, outgoing teenager he was back in the day, even though he’s filled out considerably.
Kyle once mentioned that Taysom has gained forty pounds of muscle since joining the NFL six years ago. I don’t know what forty pounds looks like on a guy’s frame, but I think that’s a conservative estimate.
We ran into each other here at the university one fall day. I was a freshman, and he’d just graduated and started his rookie year with the San Antonio Wolves. He’d been on campus to discuss some ways to give back now that he was a big-time NFL player. He asked me to eat with him in the cafeteria.
Which I did. Without a thought, I skipped class to go with him.
It was a mistake, and as atonement, I didn’t miss another class for the rest of my college career.
People stared at the lowly, little freshman trying to act cool with the big NFL player. Some even took pictures. There were sushi and rice and wasabi involved. “And you were much better at the chopsticks than I was,” I add.
He laughs. “You finally gave up and started popping them in your mouth with your fingers when you thought I wasn’t looking.”
My cheeks heat. Great. As if my whole being weren’t already some shade of red, now I’ve got an even more neon glow.
“I wasn’t aware you caught that.” I raise my chin. “You were so busy signing autographs and being fawned over, I didn’t think you noticed.” Ugh. Was that comment immature of me? Probably.
He ignores my tone. “I was having too much fun with you to care about all that.”
“Uh, speaking of fawning over you…” Willa interrupts with a laugh. “I just want to say how much my fiancé loves you. I mean, you know, in a football way. Not in a…Anyway!” She cringes. “He’s going to die when he hears you walked into our office today.”
“She brings up a good point. What are you doing here?” I ask.
His gaze flicks to me, but he doesn’t answer. “I’d be happy to sign this for him, if you think he’d like it,” he asks Willa. From his messenger bag, Taysom digs out a Sharpie and a small, faux-leather football with the Wolves insignia. She bounces on the balls of her feet.
“What does that say?” I point to the small print on the ball.
Taysom hesitates. “It just says that for every ball I sign and give away, my foundation donates a meal to the food bank here in San Antonio.” He signs it and then tosses it to Willa, who catches it and cries out in excitement.
She and I are not very athletic, so the fact that she caught itissort of exciting.
He turns to me. “To answer your question, I’m here to film the spot for my documentary.”
My face must look as confused as I feel, because his eyes narrow and his head cocks to one side.
“It’s for a feature…I’m filming it here on campus.”
My eyes widen. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Did the director of the center not say anything? Or Kyle?”
“Kyle never communicates about anything, and our director is out on personal leave right now.” I hesitate. “He broke both arms and had to have surgery. Because we’re all OTs, we’ve been offering him advice. Not that we know much about adult bone breaks, but that doesn’t stop us.”
“Oh. Poor guy.” Taysom’s brow creases. As much as I don’t want to believe it, I sense his concern is legit.
And he’s not here with his own kid.
I’m glad. It’s a relief for lots of reasons, especially because we don’t want any kid to need our services. Obviously, though, we’re here for them if they do!
Well, we’ll be here until June 1st.
But since he’s just here to film something, maybe that means he doesn’t have a kid at all. Kyle would have said something if his best friend had had a kid, right? And I don’t exactly follow his social media, but there are things about him I’ve heard. Like, the Wolves didn’t do so well the past couple of years, and there has been no mention of girlfriends lately.
“So, was Kyle supposed to relay a message or…?” I ask.
