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I scrambled to my feet, hustling up the hill with my tube, Brady at my heels.
Run after run, we flew down the hill, the sting of cold air making me feel more alive than I could remember. By the time the sun started its descent behind the hills, I was bone-tired. The heated restrooms felt like heaven after our afternoon in the cold, and I soaked up the warmth as I changed before meeting Brady at the car for the drive home.
Mellow from exertion, I relaxed into silence on the drive back to Campfire. Sometime during the drive, my hand crept into his, and I enjoyed the simple pleasure of being able to touch him. Our joined hands rested on the console between us, a silent testament to our new-found ease with each other.
"Are you hungry?" Brady asked as he turned onto Main Street.
"Starved. Can I buy you dinner at Slice of Heaven?" I asked.
Brady looked pleased by my invitation. "That sounds great."
Izzy greeted us with a knowing smile, and I shrugged, accepting the implied nudge ofI told you so. She'd been urging me to give Brady a chance for weeks, while I complained about his obstinate refusal to let us host the auction at school. She seated us at the same booth as before, and I slid in with a smile. Did Brady and I have a booth?
It was odd to think about couple rituals and realize I might already be forming some with him. He'd infiltrated my life without me fully registering he’d done it. First as an opponent I had to best, then as a reluctant partner for the play, now as a man I wanted to spend my free time with. Maybe I should have given Brady more credit for being sneaky. He’d slid under my defenses faster than I could put them up, and I was enjoying myself so much, I couldn’t bring myself to care that it left me exposed to him. Brady was gaining my trust.
Slice was busy. Families filled the booths and tables around us, and the play zone seemed overrun with toddlers playing in the pretend pizza kitchen Izzy had set up. One chubby boy with tight black curls in overalls toddled out of the kids' corner, making a beeline to us with a pizza in hand. He could barely reach our table, but that didn't stop him from sliding his creation in front of me.
"Pzzza!" he exclaimed with a drooly grin.
"Thank you," I said, "It looks yummy." Glancing down, I held back a laugh at the plastic animals he'd scattered across the cheese base. "Is this a Grizzly pizza?" I pretended to take a bite. "That's my favorite. Mm, good. Thank you."
A pretty dark-haired Black woman rushed up gently scolding the boy about leaving the play area.
"He's adorable. Made my night," I assured as she escorted him back to the table she shared with her husband.
"You're good with kids," Brady said, sounding more than a little surprised.
I tipped my glass toward him. "Unlike adults, kids don't judge."
Brady held up his hands. "Hey, I learned my lesson. What you call judgment, I call caution. Do you have nieces and nephews? You haven't really talked about your family much."
I drew a circle in the condensation on the wood table. "Not much to tell. My folks divorced when I was in my teens. Both have moved on and remarried. Dad lives in Vancouver with his second wife, Becky. She has a daughter from a previous marriage, so through her I have a niece and nephew."
"What about your mom?" he asked.
"Married to a very nice man named Dennis who she met through work. They live in Everett."
I paused, not sure how much more I wanted to say about my fractured family. There'd been a time when the split hurt, but I was adult enough to recognize that both of my parents were happier with their current spouses. Not everyone was meant to be together forever.
"What about you? Do you have any nieces and nephews lurking about town?" I asked, striving for playful.
I'd met his mother, and Gwen had talked about his dad teaching before he retired, but those stray pieces didn't build a complete picture of Brady's childhood.
Brady's expression shuttered, leaving me with the feeling that I'd crossed an invisible line, asking.
He pulled his hand away, abandoning mine at the center of our table, and I felt the distance keenly.
It was tempting to fill the silence with the first topic I could find, but I resisted, waiting him out. If Brady and I were going to become a real couple, he had to open up.Hypocrite. I shoved down the inner voice that wanted to call me out for avoiding the past. Some wounds took time to reveal.
Brady flipped his coaster, rotating it against the table. Slowly, he lifted his chin.
"I had a brother. Joe."
Had.
A world of hurt lay in that simple phrase.
I reached a tentative hand to cover his, still worrying at the cardboard coaster. "I'm sorry," I said.
