Me: Low blow, Ellis. I’m still abstaining.
The longest pause yet. Then,How could I be so inconsiderate? Three favorite holidays?
I considered the question for a moment.
Me: Halloween, Christmas Day . . .
Me: And my favorite is Christmas Eve.
Jack: There’s a difference between Christmas Day and Christmas Eve celebrations?
Me: Christmas Day was smaller, but still good.
That had been my time with Danny and his family. Diane and I used to put together a delicious brunch for the Jensens. My memories were shadowed with sadness now for a variety of reasons.
Me: But Christmas Eve night is our big party out at the farm. And when I was a kid, it was a really big deal. I liked the food, of course, and being with my cousins and aunt and uncles, but there was just something magical about Christmas Eve. Cold, clear nights, twinkle lights, and so much possibility. I remember all the excitement we had about Santa coming. My dad and uncles took it seriously. They’d stomp around on the roof after we went to sleep. Then leave tracks in the yard for the sled and reindeer.
Me: It’s just always seemed like there was so much hope. So, it’s always been my favorite. Even as an adult, with the magic gone, the possibility is still there, you know. Like anything could happen on Christmas Eve.
I’d typed a lot, and Jack had gone suspiciously quiet. I wanted to kick myself for making a big deal about family and holidays. It had never been a secret that Jack’s homelife was different than mine.
So, I attempted to change the subject and sentFavorite ice cream?
The three little dots appeared, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Jack: Rocky road, cookie dough, and vanilla
Jack: How about office supplies? I know you have at least three favorites of those.
I smiled drowsily. Sleep was catching up to me, chasing me down against my will for once. But I was grateful Jack had reached out tonight. I didn’t know what it meant, if anything. But it went beyond feeding my juvenile crush with more of his time and attention.
He didn’t know—couldn’t know—but he’d given me comfort when I’d needed it. A soft place to rest my head for just a moment, long enough to gather myself before anything else broke apart.
Me: I know you’re teasing me, but I actually do have favorite office supplies. Let’s do three favorite pets instead.
Jack: Can I answer dog for all three?
Me: I suppose, if you’re breaking the rules.
Jack: Sort of my MO, but since I know you’re such a stickler, I’ll add cat and ... turtle to the list. Why, what are yours?
After a slow blink, my eyes drifted to the cage in the corner of my bedroom. I could hear Oreo drinking from her water dispenser.
Me: I don’t know. I’ve heard rabbits make great pets.
seven
JACK
When I got to practice the following Tuesday, all I could think was thank God there was a professional here who knew what the hell he was doing.
Then I watched Brady Judd put his hands on his hips and say loudly and indignantly, “I can so do the floss.” And he proceeded to enter a dance-off with four giggling little girls.
Sighing, I trudged across the field. At least I had a whistle this time.
One of the non-dancing children—Tori, the goalie—spotted me and ran over for a high five. She said “Hi, Coach Jack” in a way that had me smiling down at my shoes after she ran off.
Brady finally caught my approach. With the dance-off apparently over, he said, “Alright, ladies, form two lines at half field. I’ll be right there.”
