Page 10 of Lessons in Lemonade

By the time I finally walk through my front door, there’s a comment from Jack, and I’m smiling before I even read it.

Jack: As long as he’s betting on me, the odds are ever in his favor.

I reply: Who are you, Effie Trinket?

Jack: More like Peeta and you’re my Katniss.

Me: In your fictional fantasy dreams.

Jack: *wink face emoji*

For Scott’s dish, I’m reliving a trip Shelby and I took to Vegas a few years ago, where we stopped in at a place called Dirt Dog. Its menu consisted of street food, including crazy hot dogs and fries, and it was so super delicious. As such, the dish will be an elote hot dog with garlic fries.

Elote Hot Dog with Garlic Fries

THANK GOD FOR the cold front that hit Tampa yesterday. Well, when I say cold front, I mean the rainstorm that brought the humidity-free, eighty-degree weather. I love living in Florida, I do, but sometimes we just need a break. Fortunately for us, it happened the weekend of the team family picnic.

The picnic has always been one of my favorite events. At practice we are all focused and split up into offense, defense, and special teams. We all work out in the gym at different times so we don’t see each other all that often, and at our weekly offensive dinners, it’s only a small group of us. So, unless it’s game day or we have an event like this one, we are never all together, and I love it when we are, especially when the family vibes are flowing hard.

The picnic is hosted in the stadium, and the north end zone has been completely transformed for the event. There are white tents, covered tables and chairs, balloons, flowers, a disc jockey—you name it, it’s there, along with the people: people laughing, people hugging, people just being themselves. Man, I love this team and these people.

We are a little over two months into the season—an undefeated season, that is—and I have a feeling that this year, we are definitely going all the way. I can sense it deep in my bones.

Walking around, I stop and say hello to my friends and their families. It’s great to see so many kids here running around on the field and tossing the ball. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up in an environment like this one, especially if you love the sport.

“Hey, Jack!” I hear from behind me, and next thing I know a ball is flying toward my head. A little boy about the age of eight is grinning at me with a crooked smile, and I can’t help but tuck the ball under my arm and hold out my other to pretend I’m blocking fake oncoming tackles. The boy jumps up and down delightedly as I toss the ball back, and then he runs off to play with someone else. I haven’t given much thought to having kids, but I’ve always thought they’d be in my future somewhere down the line and we would play catch just like this. Girl or boy, we’ll play together, because that’s what dads are supposed to do.

Heading over to the food and drink tent, I grab a bottle of water and, off to the side, I spy the thing I’ve been wanting most just arriving.

“Well, butter my biscuit, if it isn’t the third leg of the tripod,” I say as Bryan and a woman I assume is Lexi due to her Firefly Kitchen T-shirt walk under the tents dragging a large flatbed dolly with thermal boxes on top.

She pauses and turns at the sound of her and her friend’s nickname then smirks at me. “Let me guess—Jack?” she says, giving me a once-over.

“The one and only.” I throw my arms out. “And you’re Lexi.” I wink at Bryan before wrapping her up in a giant bear hug and grinning. Lexi laughs and returns the hug while the scowl on Bryan’s face says he would strangle the lights right out of me if he didn’t love me so much.

Pulling away, I reluctantly release her, and she giggles.

“Meg was right about you,” she throws over her shoulder as she moves toward the tables assigned for dessert, not realizing that just the sound of Meg’s name being tossed my way has sent this weird and unexpected spear of excitement or something through my chest. “Come on, Jack,” she continues, “make yourself useful. Help us unload these pies.” My mind has gone foggy as she reaches for the first box and unhinges the door to open it. I’m trying to maintain my composure at the thought of Meg talking about me to her friend. Me.

“Meg mentioned me to you?” I ask curiously, looking at Lexi as if she suddenly has the answers to solve the mysteries of the universe.

“She might have a few times. You sure love to get her all riled up.”

I certainly do.

An involuntary smile breaks free, and that’s when I spot Bryan watching me closely. He tilts his head a little as if trying to read between the lines, and I decide it’s best to change the subject. He already knows we banter on social media; if he thinks there’s any interest in her beyond that, I’ll never hear the end of it. So, I pretend to get distracted as the sweet smell of home-baked pies hits us.

“Pie,” I mumble, breathing it in and successfully redirecting the conversation.

One of the event staff sees us and runs over. “Oh, hi! We were expecting you, and I can take it from here.” She smiles warmly at Lexi.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind,” she says, wiping her hands on her pants and taking a step back toward Bryan.

“Absolutely. Y’all just enjoy your afternoon and eat lots of food. I hear the shrimp salad is to die for.”

Shrimp salad . . . my stomach grumbles.

“Okay,” Lexi says hesitantly, glancing between the girl and Bryan.