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I put my hand on her shoulder. “You know, when I first started, I was in ninth grade, and I was horrible. The coach never let me on the field, but I kept practicing, and I got better. I was determined to prove to myself and my coach that I could do it. By tenth grade, I was in the starting line of the varsity squad.”
“Really?” Her pretty brown eyes lit up.
“True story. I could help you, give you some pointers on what to practice.”
“Would you do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’d love that. I love soccer, but I have never been good.”
“Well, we will figure out a time that I can help you.”
“Thank you,” she said as Brad suddenly appeared at my side.
“Thank you for what?” he asked his daughter.
“Ms. Nickels is going to help me get better at soccer.”
“She is, is she?”
Tonya nodded excitedly.
“Alright, well, that’s not happening today. Go help Grandma get the food out for everyone.”
“Okay.” She hustled around us and out to the back porch.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said once she was out of earshot.
“I want to. I remember wanting to play so badly when I was younger but not having the talent for it. Some people are born with the talent for sports. Others have to work hard to achieve it. I had to bust my ass—and then some.”
“Did you play any other sports?” he asked as we went back to join the others.
“Not competitively. I tried out gymnastics but kept getting hurt. Wasn’t a big fan of tennis either. Found that I sunk better than floated in swimming, and my hips didn’t move with the right beat in dancing.”
He laughed. “So soccer it was.”
“Yeah, I was always fast, and I’m normally not aggressive, but on the field, I was.”
“Yeah, Tonya is not aggressive at all.”
“We’ll see,” I told him as we joined the others. Over lunch, Brad sat with his kids and listened to the tales of the circus. From time to time, we would catch each other’s eyes, but his attention was on his kids for the most part. He was a good father.
I sighed as I compared our two little families. Well, his big family, and my little one. Yes, my parents were still around, but they weren’t all that involved in anything other than their grandchildren. We didn’t have weekly family meals, and I didn’t talk to my parents all the time like I knew Kayley and her siblings did.
I envied them that. I had a brother, but he was killed in a boat accident when he was twenty-two. They were drinking and water skiing, and it was not a good mix.
Rick had two sisters, but I had never been very close with them. They were more similar to Riley, Kayley’s younger sister, where they wanted to go out all the time and party. I preferred to come home, shower, get into cozy clothes, cook a nice meal, and relax with my girls.
I missed my girls, but it was nice to have a little break. My girls were a lot of work, especially Emmy, my younger one. She was on the spectrum, and it was a constant challenge to make sure she wasn’t overstimulating herself. Plus, having her here with all this mess and activity would have put her OCD into overdrive.
I knew they were safe, especially Emmy. Lauren was easier to deal with when she wasn’t acting like her father. I swear she was his little mini. She even glared at me the same way he did from time to time. I didn’t get a chance to chat with them last night but had told the girls that I would call them later tonight.
As I watched Brad with his kids, I wondered if my girls would get along with them. I knew they would meet eventually, and I hoped they got along, but the kids were at that odd age. They were finding themselves, and with Emmy being autistic, it was hard for some kids to accept her—something she didn’t always understand.
After lunch was over, Milton and Chad took off, stating they had other plans. Cameron left to nap because he was on the night shift tonight, and Kayley said she had errands to run. Pete had left before Mr. and Mrs. Young had arrived.
I expected Brad to leave too, but after packing his kids back up in his parents’ SUV, he came back into the house. “Don’t you want to go hang out with your kids?”
