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The crowd at his aunt and uncle’s house had grown since the last meal he’d had there, with wives and girlfriends and babies. The interaction between his cousins and their women made him lonely for a relationship. He’d ostensibly been alone for the last year and a half. Once everyone was aware he’d arrived, the conversation centered on him and his football achievements, scoring the winning points for a game that moved the team into the playoffs.
“They weren’t able to stay in it because you weren’t there to play,” cousin Joey said.
“Ha! I’m flattered, but I don’t think that’s why.”
He tried to steer the conversation back to what was going on in everyone else’s life, his own too boring and depressing to keep mulling over. What was done was done; he was finished. Now he needed to see what the future held, and it looked pretty grim at the moment. The only thing that held any hope was Wendy, and he knew that was dangerous. She wasn’t the answer to everything, as much as he wished she was. He wasn’t even sure they had anything in common.
“What are you going to do now?”
He was walking around the dining table, looking for the place card with his name, when he looked into Joey’s wife, Candy’s face.
“Good question,” he mumbled. “I’m not sure yet. I’m in the injured reserve right now, which only means I can’t play for the rest of the season, but the big secret is that I can’t play again anyway. I guess it will be addressed pretty soon. The owner knows, the general manager knows, the head coach knows, the position coach knows, and the doctors and me. It’s our little circle—the people who need to know.”
“What do you think they’ll do?”
“They’ll either think I’m worth offering a coaching position, or they’ll settle and let me go. Whatever happens, I won’t be playing professional football ever again.”
“God, I’m so sorry. We loved watching your games.”
“Thank you, Candy.”
“Is my wife talking your ear off?” Joey asked, pulling out the chair on the other side of Oliver even though it had someone else’s name on the place card.
“Thanks, Joe,” Candy said, laughing. “I’m just drilling him for answers.”
“Did you get around toyou know what?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I thought I’d wait for his father to come to the table.”
“At the rate we’re going, dinner is never going to be served.”
“I’ll see if I can help,” Candy said, getting up.
“What’s on your mind?” Oliver asked, grinning.
“I’ll wait. You’ve probably already thought of it.”
“Probably not. My mind has been a blank.”
“Come and get it!” Uncle Mike called, bringing a platter of roast beef in that would feed a small army.
That ended the conversation for a while, anyway. The next hour was full of food, laughter, family drama and more food, and Oliver was grateful that the conversation hadn’t been steered back to him.
At nine, after dessert was served and the families with little kids left for the evening, the single cousins got out the poker deck and the real party began. They played until eleven.
“Time to head to the beach,” Marty said in a low voice, his parents and their friends in the kitchen discussing the current political candidates that no one could agree on.
“I’ll be the designated driver,” Oliver announced.
“Oh no, you’re our guest,” Tony replied.
“It gives me a headache, and since I’m not supposed to drink for a few more months anyway, trust me, it’s all good.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
They got up from the table and cleaned up their card mess. Roberta had trained her boys well.
The ride to Oceanside brought back such great memories for Oliver. The smell of the sea hit as they pulled into the parking lot of Barnacle Ben’s.
