AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s great. Where at?”
Indignation reared up in me. He didn’t have to play cat-and-mouse, when he’d made it clear enough he knew I was part of the media. “Well, I suppose your mom told you, didn’t she?”
Now that I’d called him on it, he relented. And perhaps that was all I’d needed to do: match the pressure he gave off. “She said you were working for a sports blog. She didn’t say which one.”
The waitress came by with our drinks, and I studiously took a sip. Odd, how resistant I felt to telling him. Maybe I feared he’d think I’d gone into sports journalism because of him, or maybe he’d be appalled, or maybe because I wanted Sports Today to be mine for a little longer. The moment dragged on, and then I took a deep breath. “Sports Today.”
The Open Book of Abraham read of disbelief and confusion, and his mouth parted slightly. I ate a fry and watched. A tiny bit of glee spread through my chest, and I paused to savor it. Better than perfectly flavored potatoes.
“You’re writing for Sports Today?”
“That’s right.”
“Today Media’s Sports Today?”
I ate another fry. “The first time, the surprise was flattering. Now it’s getting offensive.”
“Sorry. I’m—surprised. So... Does that mean... What are you going to cover?”
I gave my best Gallic shrug. “You.”
I didn’t realize the double entendre until his eyes flashed up to mine. Something sparked between us, bright and fast and gone, leaving me slightly dazed. I looked at the table, the white linen neatly ironed, and then back at his bright, inquisitive gaze. “I’m covering football, yes, under Tanya Jones.”
“So, what, you’ll be coming to my games? Reporting on me?” A slow smile spread across his face. “Little Tammy Rosenfeld, graduated from the marching band.”
“Of course,” I said promptly. “Your mom already gave me all the info on the family seats.”
He snorted and shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“She also tried to give me an extra key to your apartment in case I needed somewhere to go, along with the names of your dentist, doctor, your lawyer, your agent and your financial advisor. Don’t worry, I didn’t take them. Oh, but...” I leaned over and dragged my purse up into my lap, digging out a colorful paperstock card and slapping it down on a dry section of the bar. “I was charged with delivering this.”
He opened it up. “‘To Mr. Abe Kramer—Good luck in the Super Bowl! We’re cheering for you!’—From Mrs. Kimmel’s eight-grade class.” He looked up, laughter crinkling his eyes. “Why do you have a letter from my eighth-grade teacher?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been teaching SAT classes at the high school. Word got around the district. What can I say—you’re a hit.”
“Don’t they feel like they’re betraying the 49ers?”
I titled my head. “Did you feel that way when the Leopards drafted you?”
He laughed. “You know I didn’t.”
We shared a grin. We’d watched his draft in his living room, along with half the neighborhood and a variety of cousins and family friends. He’d been a third round pick, and I’d been cursing at the teams by then for not selecting him immediately. Abe, uncharacteristically calm, had sat with his hands loosely clasped between his knees, eyes focused on the television screen. When the Leopards owner Gregory Philip said his name, I’d let out a shriek, and he’d jumped up and whirled me around in a circle before hugging everyone in the room.
“I think your mom was the only one disappointed that day. You couldn’t have gone farther away unless you’d been in Boston.”
“Remember when she tried to convince me to give up football and become a doctor?”
“‘When’? You say that like it was a singular occurrence.”
“It’s your fault, you know. If you didn’t have an uncle with his own practice, she wouldn’t think there was an easy summer internship she needed to try to talk me into.”
“Well, you know, it’s not too late. He lives just a couple blocks uptown.” The waitress came by with our food; I waited until she was gone before leaning forward. “I could put in a good word for him if you don’t think this football thing is going to work out.”
Abe snorted. “You’re hilarious.”
I tilted my head and laughed softly. “I know.”
Abraham smiled at me warmly. “Did you know that the last time we saw each other, we weren’t even old enough to drink?”
