"Hey, y'all!" she says when she gets to us, making her way around the table to say hi to everyone. I watch her, glad I'm not the only one. She's a little magnet that way, hard not to notice. Which is tough, because I really need to quit noticing her.
Maybe quit agreeing to help her with every little thing.
I hmph at myself and take a drink.
Molly finally makes it all the way around and climbs onto the bar seat next to me, setting her cross-body bag on the table, beaming.
"Hey, Coach!"
My lips twitch with a smile. "Hey, Molly. You ready?" Remy and Tate are listening so hard, I think their ears might pop off and run in my direction.
"Yup! I had a big honkin' bowl of mac and cheese for dinner and drank a ton of water today, just like you told me to."
"Good." I slide my clear, thirty-two-ounce water bottle toward her. "You're gonna drink this tonight. Make sure you're paying attention to it or you'll forget." I'm already opening the plastic baggie I brought. When she sees the pretzels strung onto the yarn necklace, her eyes widen in delight. "Wear this," I slip it over her head. "Now you've got something to nibble on too. Extra points if you eat them all."
She gapes in wonder, inspecting it. "Oh my gosh, Coach--did you do arts and crafts forme? Where did you get yarn? Are you secretly crafty? Do you knit? I have so many questions."
I can't help but chuckle. "I have a bin of my grandma's old stuff. There was some in there."
Molly nibbles one off the necklace, amused. "This is genius."
"Yeah, drunk college kids are regular savants." Now Wilder is listening too--my skin's burning where they're lasered on me. But the girls are in the middle of something at the other end of the table, which I'm thankful for. They're gonna be in my ass the second they figure out what's going on. "C'mon. Ready to get a drink?"
"Yup!" she says, hopping off the chair, cheeks high and happy. We head for the bar.
"Know what you want?"
"I honestly have no idea. I tried looking something up and got overwhelmed."
"What kind of taste are you in the mood for? Sweet? Tart? Sour? Fruity?"
"I like citrusy things and strawberry, but I don't want anything that tastes like candy." Her little nose wrinkles up.
We pull up to the bar and lean on it while we wait for Leo.
"Hmm. Should probably do something that'll mask the booze a little, not like a gin and tonic. You like lemony stuff?"
"Oh, yeah."
"All right. Order a lemon drop martini. Make sure you specify or they might give you a shot. Order it with Grey Goose."
"How come?"
"Better liquor means less of a hangover."
"Got it."
When Leo approaches, he looks at me to order, but I look at her. She straightens up, smiling.
"A lemon drop martini, please, sir. With Grey Goose."
Leo looks a little surprised, but he's smiling too. "You got it, Molly."
"Put it in one of those fancy coupe glasses you do for bachelorette parties," I say.
"On it. For you?"
"Just water, thanks."
