Nice. Let me know when you do that. I’d like to see the videos
Uh … okay
After her last response, I go find her YouTube channel—she has it linked on her website, so that makes it easy—and hit follow. That way I don’t have to rely on her remembering—or bothering—to tell me she posted something. I can tell from her response, plus all the other times I’ve mentioned wanting to hear her play, that she thinks it’s strange I care this much. But she can go on thinking it’s strange. And I’ll go on wanting to hear her play.
After all, why wouldn’t I? She’s amazing and talented. It’d be like thinking it was weird for her to want to come to my games.
I’m really looking forward to getting home. I finally get what Abernathy and some of the other married players are always griping about when we’re on the road. Sure, yeah, it’s normal, but the longer I’m away, the more I want to get back.
I miss her. Even more than the last time I was gone.
“Is this always what it’s like?” I ask Abernathy when we’re having dinner later. No game tonight, and we’re all on our own for dinner after getting to our hotel, but six of us are out together—Abernathy, Dozer, Bouchard, Jenkins, Bowers, and me.
Abernathy looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Yes. This is what dinner with your friends is like.”
I punch him in the arm, and he cackles. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Nodding, he sets his menu down. “True. But since you gave me zero context, I’m not actually sure what you did mean.”
With a sigh, I shake my head. “Being away from your wife.”
“Ahh.” He nods, knowingly. “Feeling lonesome?”
“Awww, poor Chalmers,” Jenkins puts in, throwing an arm around Bouchard, who’s seated between us. “Bouchard here’llkeep you company. He’s a lonely sad sack too, and he’s not even married!”
Bouchard shoves him off, shaking his head, but he’s grinning at the light roasting. “You’re just jealous nobody’s waiting for you to get back.” He gestures between him, me, Abernathy, and Dozer. “We all have ladies waiting for us. And we’re sorry for you that you haven’t managed to find anyone to put up with your bullshit yet.”
“Oh, so that’s all Maggie is to you?” Jenkins shoots back. “Someone to put up with your bullshit?”
“Hold up. That’s not what I said. I saidyouhaven’t found someone willing to put up withyourbullshit. I don’t have any bullshit to put up with.”
Jenkins pulls out his phone. “Oh, yeah? You sure about that? Maybe we should call Maggie and get confirmation.”
Bouchard swats his phone out of his hand, and they’re both scrambling to get ahold of it, shoving chairs back and bumping the table.
“Hey!” Abernathy shouts, his voice cracking like a whip, making all the diners around us stop and turn as well. He smiles and waves at the tables near us, then leans over to hiss at Bouchard and Jenkins. “You two clowns quit acting like two-year-olds. Jesus, my kids know how to behave better in a restaurant than you two do. And they don’t even get tablets at the table!”
They both mumble apologies and straighten their chairs, picking up their menus and doing their best to act like adults—though we all know it’s difficult, especially for those two, and especially when they’re together.
“Do I need to separate you two?” Abernathy hisses, and they both shake their heads, stopping the under-the-table elbowing competition they’d started already.
“Jesus, seriously. You two are worse than my kids.”
“Well,” I say, trying to sound philosophical, “at least with your kids you have help, and you can send them to their rooms when you get home if they keep acting up.”
“With my kids, we’d just leave if they didn’t stop acting up. And they’d get cold sandwiches for dinner before being sent to their rooms.” His eyes narrow as he glares at Jenkins and Bouchard again, even though they seem to be behaving themselves now. “Maybe that’s a good idea. We could kick them out and bring them back a loaf of bread and peanut butter and jelly or something.” He leans over and gets their attention. “Restaurants are only for good boys and girls who know how to behave themselves. If you can’t, then you can’t stay.”
“Yes, sir,” they both mumble.
“And Bouchard,” Abernathy adds, “I’d have expected better from you. I know you and Maggie aren’t living together, but you’re around her kid. You should know how to be a better example than that.”
“Sorry, man,” Bouchard mumbles, then points to Jenkins. “He started it.” When all Abernathy does is raise his eyebrows, Bouchard slumps back. “Fine. Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He gives them one more glare before turning back to me. “I take it you miss your new wife?” At my nod, he nods too. “I can’t say it’salwayslike that. There’ll be times when you’re fighting and you’ll be glad for time apart. Or you just annoy each other, and then it’s good too. But you’re still in the honeymoon phase, so yeah. That’s normal. Also, youshouldmiss your spouse and be excited to get back to her. Tina always says she looks forward to our first couple of away games, but only for the first couple of days. After that, she’s ready for me to be back. And it’s hard being away from the kids. You miss things, especially when they’re little. I was lucky that Noah took his first steps when I was home. But I missed Shelby’s. And I missed both their first words, and it was wild when they were inthe language explosion phase. I’d get back from being away for a few days, and the number of words they’d be using would’ve doubled in that time.”
My eyes widen, and he nods. “I know, that’s not what you’re asking about, but it’s something to keep in mind if you decide you guys want kids.”
“Oh, well, uh …”
