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“Is this the first time you’ve been here?” Oakley asks, as I motion for Stella to sit on the sofa. True to form, Stella declines to sit. She has a hard time staying put.
“I came a few times right after Alec moved in, but it’s been a long while. Usually I get to see him at the resort with his brothers.”
“Tell me about Alec when he was little,” Oakley says.
I move to protest at the exact moment that Stella coos. “Oh, Alec.” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “So animated and full of life. A little bit goofy like Oliver.”
A look of surprise passes over Oakley’s features. “I didn’t know Oliver and Alec were alike.”
“They had different traits that set them apart. And Oliver was louder and got into more trouble than Alec ever did. But yes.” Stella tilts her head and looks at me. “Alec was a pretty carefree kid. But disciplined. He was always running and working out and playing hard. But then he got all serious when he got into football.” Shetsks.“I love the man you’ve become Alec, but sometimes I miss that carefree little boy.”
I squirm and shift in my stance. It’s like that side of me never even existed in the first place, he’s so long gone.
“I saw a glimpse of that carefree person yesterday,” Oakley offers.
“You didn’t!” Stella crows. “I need to hear about this.”
“Okay, okay,” I say. I have to interject before a disaster occurs. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Just wait—” Oakley puts up a palm. “All I’m going to say is that Alec knew how to make a teen boy I was training feel at ease. Alec encouraged him to come into the gym in the first place, and then made him laugh during the exercises. It was a nice surprise.” She’s looking at me.
There were a lot of surprises about yesterday.
Stella looks like Oakley just told her I qualified for the Heisman trophy. “That’s wonderful to hear. You were always so good with Milo,” she tells me. “I loved watching you mentor him.”
“I think Alec should go into coaching,” Oakley says. “I bet he’d be really good at it.”
Coaching. My lungs squeeze shut. I never wanted to coach, never thought I’d have the right temperament. Coaching is what thirty-something guys think about after they’ve had a good long career on the field. Coaching’s for old men, not twenty-five-year-olds who should be at the peak of their careers.
Stella seems to notice that I don’t want to talk about that. “Anyway, I also heard that your knee is finally on the mend and by the way you’re walking, it looks like the rumors were true.”
Rumors? Just what I don’t need. I’m uneasy at what my brothers have been telling Stella.
“I’m back to doing my exercises and it’s been feeling a lot better.”
“Just like I’ve been telling him all along, but these boys don’t like to listen to their aunt sometimes.” She and Oakley share a look. “I told him to do the physical therapy.” She frowns.
“I listen to you. Every time you tell me to eat the leftovers you brought, I obey a hundred percent.”
Stella laughs. “There is that.”
I glance at Oakley. “Stella kept me fed as I was getting settled here after my injury. She’s an amazing cook.”
Oakley raises her brows. “I’m not an amazing cook, sadly. Alec told me you taught him some stuff in the kitchen, though.”
“Well, when you’re trying to feed six boys over a summer, you tend to focus on teaching them to cook so they can better fend for themselves. But yes, I would say Alec caught on more quickly than some of the others.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Sebastian was terrible at cooking.”
Stella’s head drops to the side. “He wasn’t terrible. He just lacked the patience, that’s all.” Stella shifts in her stance, like her feet are hurting, or maybe like she’s been waiting to bring something else up.
“Please have a seat.” I gesture to the sofa.
“Oh, I will, Alec. It’s just that I need to grab something from the car first.” Her round, blue eyes regard me carefully, her head tilted to one side.
“Leftovers?” I ask.
A guy can dream.
