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She nods. “I’ve watched a few games on TV, but it’s hard for me to follow.”
“If it’s okay with you, you can come over to the house tomorrow, and we’ll watch one there.” It’s subtle, but her eyes widen. “Starts at noon,” I add. Is she scared of me? Or scared of being alone with me? Maybe she’s just nervous about it.
“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” Lucy nods one too many times like she reassuring herself this is what she wants to do.
“Could I have your number? So I can text you the address? It’s not too far from campus.”
Lucy spits out her phone number while I enter it into my phone. “Is anyone else going to be there?”
“Do you want there to be?” My question is simply a means to find out what she needs to be comfortable, and I think she can tell. She wasn’t expecting me to ask though.
“Um, no. I was just wondering. I’ll get Patrick to take me. Thanks again, Grant.”
Lucy starts walking away, but I hurry to walk next to her. “I’m sorry,” I offer, suddenly feeling like I need to apologize for whatever I did to upset her last week. The confusion flits across her face as she glances at me before opening the door to the outside, so I add, “For what I said that upset you.”
She waves me away. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It didn’t really have anything to do with you, Grant. I’m sorry you felt sorry,” she laughs softly. For a moment, I wonder if there’s anything loud about her. She’s not loud, her laugh isn’t either. The only thing that raises its voice for attention is her beauty, and even then, that’s soft too.
“Do you want me to walk you?” As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I see Patrick walking over to us. I have a feeling that somehow, he’s going to be a pain in my ass.
“That’s why I’m here,” he answers for her. Lucy turns around at the sound of his voice, a smile was already forming. The girl loves her brothers. That much is clear. “Sorry I’m late, Luce.” He gives her a one-armed hug.
“It’s okay. Grant was keeping me company.” She turns back to me. “See you tomorrow around noon?”
“A little before noon,” I correct.
Lucy nods and then they say goodbye and are walking away. It seems like all she does is walk away from me. That’s crazy because she’s usually only leaving to go somewhere else, but the thought passes my mind anyway.
EVERY SUNDAY, NEIL and Bo head somewhere together, but I don’t know where. They don't say, and I don't ask.
There's an unspoken air around them that clearly states not to question them. Winston is off at the gym again. It seems like all he's been doing since Maddie stayed the night is working out. That leaves only me at home. The knock at the door finally comes just as I wonder if she’s going to be a no-show. That can only be one person. I open the door to find Lucy, camera around her neck, and notice Patrick giving me a hard look before he starts backing out of the driveway.
“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” I step aside so she can walk it. It’s 11:57.
“Patrick doesn’t understand the concept of time,” she mumbles as she looks around, taking in the place.
“Planning to take pictures while you’re here?” I ask, closing the door.
Lucy looks down at the camera clutched in her hands. “Just in case. Is anyone else here?”
“No. C’mon, the game is about to start.”
We go into the living room on the left and sit down on the couch, me at one end, Lucy far away at the other. The volume is low enough not to be distracting, but loud enough that we can hear it. As the game begins, I start telling her about face-offs, zones, puck possession, and penalties as they happen. A
t the end of the first, I ask Lucy how she thinks this is going.
“Ugh! Forget this! I give up. Sports are just not my thing.” Lucy is clearly frustrated that she’s not comprehending what I’m explaining.
“What do you mean, ‘sports’? You don’t understand football and baseball either?”
She cuts me a glare. “Baseball is easy. One, two, three strikes, you’re out. Nine innings, hit the ball with a bat, and make it home. Football is a little harder and this,” she waves her hand at the TV, “is just ridiculous. I don’t understand how my brothers possess so much athletic talent, but I can’t even understand the stupid games.”
“But you take pictures for the paper. How haven’t you picked up on what’s happening?”
“Can I borrow your laptop?”
It’s so out in left field that all I can manage to do is comply. I get up, go to my room, get my laptop, and come back. After I place it on the coffee table in front of us, Lucy moves to the middle of the couch to sit next to me, powers it on, and starts explaining.
“I don’t see the game like you do. Players see the rules, regulations, and what their job is while they are playing.” Lucy takes the memory card from her camera and inserts it into my computer. She pulls up all the pictures and starts searching. “I see emotions and moments. That’s why I love taking pictures. They capture seconds in time that can make all the difference without needing to look at the big picture.”
