“I’m not sure if it’s delicious. It’s my first time to try the recipe.”
Vee’s smile outshone her reddened eyes. “I promise, I can cook too.”
“We’re still in our Fin’s-in-control bubble.” I tilted my forehead back to Vee’s. “What do you want right now?”
“For tomorrow to be over.”
“I can’t do that. I can take off your shoes, start a fire, get you a glass of wine, and finish making dinner.”
“Almost as good,” she said with a grin. “Maybe after dinner, we could revisit your stress-relieving methods?” She sat up, her expression sobering. “Wait. What about your rib?”
“My rib will be fine.”
Vee jumped from my lap. “You shouldn’t have carried me.”
“You’re not heavy. My rib will mend. And relieving stress is not against the doctor’s orders.”
“Are you sure?”
Standing, I motioned for Vee to sit on the sofa. Next, I squatted near her knees and removed each of her shoes. “There, wiggle your toes. You’ll be feeling better already. Do I want to ask about your day? How was your meeting with Tilson?”
Vee hummed as she did as I said. “It was better than I anticipated. I feel like I’m constantly needing to prove my knowledge, but for him, it went well.”
“For him?”
“The football world is filled with misogynistic, chauvinist men. It’s not rumor. It’s fact. I’ve been dealing with it since college.”
“Funny, because in this home, it seems I’ve been doing a lot of cooking.”
Vee grinned. “I’ll have to find some way to make it up to you.”
I made my way toward the kitchen and turned the burner on beneath the sauce. Vee followed, taking a seat at the island. As I filled a pot with water for the pasta, I turned, seeing a slight smile on her lips—an improvement from minutes ago. “What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’m amazed you’re here, and you’re taking care of me.” Her smile dimmed. “I’m sorry I hurt you all those years ago.”
“Vee, we’ve reviewed the film and identified the issues with our earlier play. Now we’re looking forward to the next game.”
“Is it that easy?”
I turned off the water and placed the pot on the stove. “For now, let’s say yes.”
“Thank you for the voicemail. I hadn’t seen the injury report. I would have been more worried.”
“Wine?” I asked, reaching for two glasses.
Vee nodded. “Bre Stanton came to my office as I was ready to leave.”
“She did?” I found a bottle of cabernet and set it on the counter. “What did she want?”
“To attend tomorrow’s service.”
I arched my brow. “I thought everyone from the football center was invited.”
“I specifically uninvited Bre the other day.” Vee looked down at the counter and back up. “I gave in. I just told her she had to sit in the stands. During the dinner she must stay away from Daphne.”
“Did she argue?”
Vee shook her head. “She asked to come to the funeral home. I said no.” She looked up as I handed her a glass. “I probably haven’t mentioned it, but I’m close with two of my cousins.”
