“Small world,” I mentioned when we were both seated. “She calls him ‘Cado,’ because he loves avocados so much. That’s why I didn’t recognize his name when you talked about him.”
“Disgusting.”
“You don’t like avocados? I’ve seen you eat them,” I said.
“I don’t like pet names,” he explained. “I don’t like hearing ‘babe,’ ‘baby,’ ‘honey,’ ‘cado,’ ‘psycho,’ ‘killer,’ or anything else. But she seems nice and she’s a great golfer.” He looked across at me and raised his eyebrows.
“Sorry for letting you down.”
He sighed. “I’m just thinking about the drinks he’s going to order and how I’ll need that Woodsmen paycheck to cover it all.”
“I’ll split the tab with you.” I thought for a moment. “Do you bet on a lot of stuff?”
“What? No, and I was just kidding about being mad about the golf. You knew that,” he said, and he looked over at me again, like he was making sure.
“I knew that,” I echoed. “I’m asking about the bet because I don’t like gambling, not at all. It’s the adult human version of a dog chasing its tail and then biting it.”
“That’s an interesting analogy.” He shook his head. “Before tonight, my last bet was with a guy on the offensive line over the number of push-ups that he could do. I won, so he had to carry the water jugs even after doing all those push-ups.”
“My dad gambled,” I said. “He couldn’t stop himself. It was out of control and it drove me crazy once I figured out what was going on.”
“That makes for a hard homelife.”
“It would have, if we’d had a home.” I realized that I had sounded bitter. “His job meant that we were always on the move. I was glad that he made enough to support us until I could do it for myself.”
“He made enough, minus what he lost gambling.”
“Minus that,” I concurred. That had been plenty.
Kiya and Channing got to the restaurant before us, and they were kissing again when we walked in but broke apart as we sat down. “Sorry,” she said. “Cate, have you been to this place before? I love Greek food.” We chatted about the area, with the three of them telling me about other new places I should go and things I should try. Channing was from northern Michigan and Kiya had been living here for longer than I had.
“You can show her around,” she told Ronan. “Right?”
“Yeah, sure.” He pointed at something on the menu. “Do you think this has enough protein?”
“You can have a smoothie when you get home,” I suggested.
“I’m eating better,” he explained to Channing, and clinked his glass of water to his friend’s beer. It was already the second round, so he’d been correct about the alcohol tab.
“He’s trying out for the Woodsmen,” Channing mentioned to his girlfriend.
“Are you? That’s so exciting,” Kiya said, but Ronan was shaking his head.
“It’s not. I’m not sure that I’m doing it but I needed to make changes anyway, so I can keep playing for the Juniors. I want to quit on my own terms and not have my body give up on me. Sucking down a bunch of crap at every meal isn’t a good idea.”
He’d been doing this with me, too—he went back and forth over the idea of the tryout. “It’s a better plan to eat healthy, for a lot of reasons,” I said. The top one was becoming a Woodsmen, of course.
“Kiya was a track star,” Channing said proudly. “She could probably give you tips.”
“You played lacrosse in college,” she reminded him. “You did all right, too.” That mutual admiration led to them kissing again.
“Did you play any sports, Cate?” he asked when they had separated. He signaled to the waiter for another drink.
“No, I never did,” I answered. “I’m not a sports person in general, either participating or viewing.”
“But you’re a Woodsmen fan,” Kiya said confidently, then stared open-mouthed as I shook my head. “Oh my God, Cate! I won’t tell anyone.” She looked around anxiously, as if checking on the possibility that I’d been overheard. “Everyone is a Woodsmen fan. You have to get on the bandwagon.”
She sounded so serious that I got a little anxious about it, too. “I don’t hate them,” I told her.
