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“We’re… kinda taking a break because of…things,” I said carefully.
His thick eyebrows knit together. “That’s stupid. She probably wants to help you.”
“Yeah, but should I let her? This is my responsibility,” I whispered.
Casey stepped closer to me. “You’re not burdening her by asking for help, man. When I ask Addie for help, I think it makes her day.”
I swallowed down my nerves. “Yeah?”
“Yes. People like to feel needed. Don’t be afraid of asking for help with anything, ever. I realize now that I probably should’ve told you that a really long time ago. Sorry you were the guinea pig for how I parent.”
I pulled him into a back slap bro hug. “Love you, brother.”
“Love you too.”
While walking out into the snow, Casey called, “Go get your girl!”
The twins behind him sang out. “Yeah! Go get your girl, Uncle Tyler!”
I rolled my eyes, but Stevie giggled beside me. “Are they talking about Josie from Target? Do you have a crush on her?” she whispered up to me with shiny eyes.
I tried to control my grin. “Maybe.”
“Tyler and Josie kissing in a tree, K–I–S–S–I–N–G!” she sang out.
At least she could spell better than me, I thought amusedly. “Oh c’mon,” I groaned.
But she continued singing and laughing as she skipped to my truck’s door.
On the drive back, I thought over what Casey had said about asking for help. I was going to ask them to watch Stevie during my game this Saturday, but Casey was already stretched thin watching the boys and worrying for his wife. I’d ask them if I had to… but first, I’d ask the person who already offered to help…
________
Later that night, Stevie was eating a late-night bowl of cereal with the boys, so I snuck away to talk to Josie.
My chest tightened as I knocked on her door. Calling or texting would’ve probably been more efficient, but deep down, I knew I was using this as an excuse to see her.
She opened her door and gave a tentative smile.
I licked my lips and blurted out, “Can you watch Stevie on Saturday? Maybe bring her to the game? Only if you want. Totally don’t have to,” I said, coughing into my hand. “Do you,” I hesitantly met her eyes, “want to?” I could feel my face burning up. While I needed someone to watch Stevie, I also wanted more than anything for her to be in the stands for me, wearing my jersey.
But as I stood there, waiting for her answer for what felt like an eternity, an old insecurity came seeping in. The one that developed from watching everyone else easily receive love, but feeling like no one would ever love me. Because I was too hard to love. Because everyone always left me in the dust. Because loving me was bad luck or something. And now I feared she was going to flat out turn me down.
“Oh uh…” Her eyes shifted and I immediately felt bad for springing this on her.
“Never mind, sorry, stupid idea. I know I fucked up everything between us, I just–”
“Woah, slow down there,” she said with a light laugh. “I needed a minute to mentally run through my schedule.”
I froze, waiting for her to continue.
She pursed her lips and looked up at me curiously. “It’s so funny seeing you nervous.”
Wait… She wasn’t turning me down?
“You think this is funny? My palms are sweaty as shit, Miss Josie,” I deadpanned, but relief and elation were now mixing in my chest. “It doesn’t matter if you’re five or fifty, it’s hard to ask someone to a game.” And it was always awesome having someone in the stands just for you, but I kept that part quiet.
“Aw, poor littlebuddy,” she teased, patting my cheek and trying hard not to laugh. Thatfuckingword. It grated against my nerves. The little challenging look in her eyes told me she knew it too. I decided to ignore it for now.
