The servers came over and set our food on the table. I noticed Mom’s wine was running low.
“Mom, I’m going to grab a drink from the bar before the line gets too long. Do you want me to grab you another chardonnay?”
“Yes, please.”
I nodded and stood. “Anyone else need anything?”
Callie pushed her chair back. “I’ll go with you.”
The bar was crowded, but the bartender saw me approach and immediately took my drink order.
Callie turned to face me. “Are you okay? You seem a little distracted tonight.”
Sometimes I forgot how observant my sister could be.
“I’m good. Just taking it all in and nervous about my speech.”
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me and glanced back toward the table. “Becca is really nice.”
“She is, and it still feels weird saying that because we didn’t always get along.”
“Really?”
I nodded and picked up my glass, thinking about the countless interviews I would brace myself for whenever I would walk into the room and spot her. All the assumptions I made.
“She has a habit of challenging me at press conferences. She wasn’t always easy to be around.” I swirled the ice in my glass. “I always thought she was uptight, at least professionally.”
She leaned her elbow on the bar. “Maybe she’s just serious about her job.”
I rolled the glass between my palms. “She is.”
“You should ask her out.”
I rolled my eyes. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“She has a boyfriend.”
She made a sour face. “Oh, that’s a bummer.”
I exhaled. “It’s fine. You know how I feel about reporters.”
“Well, if not her, then someone else.”
“Callie, I like being single.”
“But you don’t have to be.”
I took a sip of my drink. “I’m not in a rush to meet anyone. I have enough going on anyway.”
My life was already jam-packed as it was. I had a demanding schedule. My life ran on routines that left little room for anything else. I had practice, games, travel, and obligations. Even during the off-season, when things slowed down, my brain didn’t. It wasn’t that I was opposed to a relationship. I also wasn’t in a rush to find one either.
I enjoyed being single—mostly. It was safe and uncomplicated, with no risk of disappointment. After my last relationship, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. At least not now.
As if Callie could read my mind, she asked, “Are you sure this isn’t about Lydia?”
I rolled my shoulders, wishing I could forget about her altogether. “Positive.”
