“I’d better get out of your hair,” he says, standing. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Oh! No,” Mom says quickly, jumping up from her chair so abruptly it clatters. “I’ll put Mia to bed. You two take your time saying goodbye.”
“Mia!” Mom shouts into the yard before I have a chance to protest. “Time to get ready for bed. Come on! Nana’s going to read you Goodnight Moon!”
“That’s for babies!” Mia shouts.
“Well then, we’ll read whatever you like. Hustle up, now!”
Mia runs onto the porch. “Goodnight, Coach G!” She stops in front of his chair and leans in to give him a hug. He wraps one arm around her and hugs her back.
A lump forms in my throat. It’s silly. She’s had coaches. They’ve all been great, thankfully. I don’t know why the way Greyson is around her gets to me the way it does.
“Okay, Mia,” Mom says. “Let’s get out of their hair and get you some shut-eye.”
“Night, Mommy,” Mia says, stepping over to my chair and leaning in for a hug. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Spike,” I say, closing my eyes and holding her close.
She pulls back and follows my mom inside. The last words I hear her saying are, “Nana, I put myself to bed every night.”
Mom answers her, “Well, that’s been something I’ve been meaning to rectify. No time like the present.”
Greyson chuckles. Henry walks up to him and sets his head in Greyson’s lap. Greyson rubs the top of his head reflexively.
“Sorry about my mom,” I say for the fourth or fifth time tonight. “She means well.”
“She’s a character,” he says with fondness in his tone.
“She is. And I’m sorry about the way you were cajoled into coming over.”
“It was actually a nice change of pace. No one cajoled me.” His eyes meet mine. Those ice-blue eyes.
“So, you were in the Army?" I ask, hedging around my actual question.
He nods. His eyes don’t leave mine.
My heart trips and stutters. What if …
“Where did you serve?” I ask, almost certain as to what’s going to come out of his mouth.
His answer is slow. Deliberate. His eyes bore into mine. “Afghanistan ... after boot camp.” A careful smile emerges on his face. The night is dark around us, the porch light illuminating his features. Just like that night across the cathedral lawn.
“We had a night in Germany. Before we deployed.” He pauses and then he says it. “Munich."
My pulse thrums in my ears. When I speak, my voice comes out on a breath. “Ace?”
Am I dreaming?
Greyson nods softly. “Yes.”
We stare at one another. My hand itches to touch him. I set it on my lap, studying his face for traces of the boy I met nine years ago.
“How?” I ask. My nerves buzz like live wires beneath my skin. And then it dawns on me. He’s not shocked. Or if he is, the Greyson coolness is covering any reaction. He’s studying me.
“Did you know who I was?” I finally ask.
His voice is soft and low. “Yes. The first instant I saw you at the Pizza Den. I thought I was imagining you. Then you showed up at the station …”
