Page 53 of Touch of Class

“You’re that into football?”

“Duh,” Robin said. “She’s Madame Sports-Ball around here, and loving the Bills allows her a semi-healthy outlet for her masochism.”

“No one wants to be in charge all the time,” Sawyer said. “We tried to buy her a flail, but she likes her pain to come at random intervals.”

“No, that tracks,” Daphne said. “If she can recognize the pattern, she’ll try to control it.”

Gillian rolled her eyes. “I simply think the Bills would be a lot more successful if they handed me a little more control. Would that be such a bad thing? I mean, look how well I’ve done with you all, and you’re at least as unruly as a football team.”

“Isn’t that adorable?” Brooke said, taking a magazine from an end table and flipping through it. “She thinks she’s got control over us.”

“Maybe not control.” Gillian looked pointedly from one couple to the other. “But at least I’ve got you all in one place where I can keep an eye on you, and—”

“Go,” Sawyer yelled, cutting her short.

“Yes.” Robin jumped up. “Go, go, run.”

“Somebody block for him,” Gillian screamed, and, for a second, Daphne was so confused until she realized they were all staring at the TV. She turned in time to see a Bills player weave between two guys in different uniforms.

“Yes,” several people shouted in unison.

Even Tegan was off the couch. “Almost, almost, there!”

“Touchdown,” Gillian called.

“High-five,” Robin declared, running around the room slapping everyone’s hand except Brooke’s.

“You don’t like the Bills?” Daphne asked.

“Oh, they’re fine.” Brooke shrugged. “I love this city, and this city loves the Bills. I’m happy when they’re happy.”

Tegan flopped back down beside her and scooted over to cover her feet again. “And I’m learning to be a Bills fan. I didn’t grow up with them, but the Bills Mafia is kind of hard to resist. Besides, Brooke’s not wrong. Our clients need to process their feelings about the Bills, so if nothing else, I see it as continuing ed.”

“I just like the yelling,” Robin said. “There are very few social situations where you’re encouraged to yell at strangers for a couple hours every week. It’s much nicer to yell at something low stakes than war or politics or capitalism. Yelling at the Bills is cathartic.”

Daphne nodded. “I’d never thought of that. Less stress than screaming about losing our rights, but still more satisfying than screaming into the void.”

“And the Bills always give us something specific to scream about.” Sawyer pulled Robin back onto their lap. “I’m a lifer though, Buffalo born and raised. I didn’t get to choose my trauma. What about you?”

“I’m not sure I chose my traumas either, though I suppose a few of them were self-inflicted.”

“Respect.” Sawyer nodded sagely. “But I meant who’s your football team?”

“Whoops.” She blushed. “That makes more sense. I’m not sure I have a strong alliance.”

“Great,” Robin said enthusiastically.

“Is it?”

“Yes, it means you’re corruptible,” Sawyer explained, “and we love nothing so much as corruptible women.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gillian said from behind them.

Robin laughed. “That’s why we love you, G-Daddy.”

“I’m not corruptible.”

“Not yet,” Robin said. “You’re the Everest of boundaries and decorum, but that’s what’ll make it so amazing when someone climbs the summit and topples you.”