Bonus points, I got to sit on the deck and take a breather with Sal and Bea, my other bestie.
She arched a blue brow when I plopped down beside her on one of the Adirondack chairs. “You’re here again?”
“Yep.” I stretched out my legs and sighed. “Jonah needed to wear himself out before his nap. Your kids and dog are the perfect outlet.”
The peals of laughter and happy barking coming from the yard told me all I needed to know. Everyone in the grass was happy to be involved in the particular brand of mischief they were getting up to.
“Happy to be of help,” she replied. “Where are Roman and Shira today?”
“Napping, or whatever they get up to in their bed.” I laughed. “Poor Shira has to carry my brother’s giant babies. I figured I owe her a break every now and then as penance.”
“Plus, you can’t get enough of your nephew,” Bea added.
“Right. Best kid ever. And since Roman and I share identical DNA, he’s basically my son.”
Sal sputtered from where he was standing by the railing. “How does Roman feel when you say that?”
“Oh, he loves it.” I winked. “Actually, I’ve learned not to say that in his presence anymore. Maybe don’t tell him I mentioned it.”
Roman and his wife, Shira, had had an…unconventional start. Their first pregnancy had been a huge surprise, but he’d dove right into fatherhood. She was weeks away from having their second baby—a girl this time—and I was vibrating with excitement to meet her. After growing up with three brothers and adding Jonah to the mix, having a little girl in the family would be really different, but I couldn’t wait.
Bea reached over and smacked my arm. “Speaking of resting, don’t you have a match tonight? Should you be running after a toddler?”
“I do have a match.” I rolled one of my ankles, wincing at the pops and cracks. At thirty-four, all my years of rugby were finally catching up to me. I figured I still had a couple years left in me, though. I didn’t even want to think about what retirement looked like. “If I spend my day lounging around, I’ll get creaky. I prefer being on the move, so I’m loose when I hit the turf.”
“Okay. If you say so,” she replied.
I eyed my friend, who’d come into my life when Shira met Roman a few years ago. She never pulled punches, making it more than easy to always know where I stood with her.
“You and Sal should really hit one of my matches,” I said, not for the first, second, or tenth time.
She leveled me with a hard look. “One time seeing you get knocked out on the pitch was enough for me. Why would I put myself through watching you get pummeled again?”
The corner of my mouth tilted. “Aw, Beatrice, you care, don’t you?” I didn’t blame her for her reticence, though. The one timeshe’d come to a match, I’d gotten a pretty severe concussion. Seeing that had to be enough to put most people off the game.
She waved me off. “Shush, you.”
“Admit it,” I teased. “You care about me, and you know it.”
Sal folded his arms. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you get pummeled.”
“Hell yes.” I pumped my fist. “Wanna come tonight? I can have a ticket waiting for you.”
I’d inserted myself into Sal’s life once I saw the writing on the wall—that he and Bea wereitfor each other. Sal was chill, but not as easy to read as Bea. Now that I’d known him for a few years, though, I got him. He didn’t often have big reactions, and I had to be mindful of my sarcasm around him, but we saw eye to eye over our appreciation of art and Bea. Plus, he was a computer genius. If my internet ever went out, he was the first person I called. The man could fix anything electronic.
Sal glanced at Bea then back to me. “I need more notice. I’ll look up your game schedule and pick a date.”
“Cool.” I finger-gunned him. “I’ll get Rome or Natey to go with so you don’t have to sit by yourself.”
“Not Adrian?” Bea asked.
“Pffft. Do you really want me to subject your husband to Adrian? Next thing you know, Sal will be coming home in a gimp suit.” My brother was a kinky fucker, but I was mostly joking. He never went looking for new recruits. They came to his club voluntarily.
Sal’s mouth opened and closed, then he straightened his glasses and tucked his hands in his pockets, only to untuck them to spin the ring on his pointer finger.
Bea giggled. “That might be…”
“No, Beatrice.” Sal eyed her warily. “I don’t like the look you’re giving me.”
