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We sat at the picnic table he and Roger had brought over so everyone could sit outside together while the girls went back to riding bikes around the yard. He straddled the seat, and I leaned back in his arms, which held me loosely.
Roger and Howard dominated the conversation, asking him questions about football and listening to him tell a story about the night he’d hung out with another player who retired ten years ago but would always be considered one of the greats.
The guys hung on his every word.
Even Vicky and Lo were enjoying this. Vicky would normally have gotten up thirty minutes ago to do something because she didn’t like sitting around. She was perched on the end of the seat as if her body wanted to go, but the story was keeping her in place. And Lo had slowly defrosted toward Brett over dinner. He and Luna had a moment where she was struggling to eat her hot dog. He reached over to cut it into pieces, the same way Lo had cut her green beans. Right after, he pretended to try to eat those pieces.
Lo’s mouth fell open, watching as Luna perked up, giggling, but ate the rest of that hot dog in no time flat. It was always a struggle getting Luna to eat her meat. She could be picky at times.
To Brett’s credit, he wasn’t trying to impress them. He was just remembering that night because it was memorable—and hilarious at times.
But while he sounded and looked the epitome of relaxed and cool, he was not.
I could feel his chest behind me. He was rock solid and rigid.
My hair fell forward, and I snuck a look at his eyes, my hair covering my glance.
He caught my look as he finished telling his story. His grin faded a little as he focused on me.
“Are you serious? Kerkumpor left it like that?” Roger pounded the table, his laughter bellowing out of him. Howard shook his head, grinning and chuckling as well.
Vicky stood, her serene smile on her face, the one she used when announcing that we were left to our own devices because she was heading to bed. It’d gotten dark. It was past nine, so that made sense. The girls had moved inside with a movie playing in the living room, but they were still up.
“To his credit, Manion didn’t see the alligator on the golf course. It just happened to be there.”
“Still.” Roger kept laughing. “Oh man. That’s legendary. Thinking you’re going just for a drink at a bar in Denver and ending up running from a gator on a golf course in Florida the same night?”
“Technically it was five in the morning by then.”
“Even better.” Roger sighed as he caught his breath from laughing so much.
Howard laid a hand on the table and stood. “Well, everyone…” That was the beginning of his “I’m following my wife to bed, so clean up after yourselves or you’ll hear from me” speech. Lo and Roger stood right away, reaching for the rest of the plates in front of us.
Brett started to rise.
“No, no. You stay.” Lo gestured with a soft smile. “You’re the guest. We’ll take these in and help clear everything before taking the girls home. You two stay, talk. Enjoy the night.”
Brett looked my way before he stood anyway. “Always enjoyed doing dishes when I grew up. Got no problem helping clear, especially after a meal like that.”
Roger shook his head, muttering to himself as he headed inside. “Just legendary. Legendary.”
Lo snorted, watching her husband. “You know, I’ll take you up on that offer. I’m thinking with all the sugar the girls had today, we’re going to have a struggle getting them to bed. It’ll sound like someone’s committing murder.” She walked off with a pile of plates in hand, so she didn’t see me flinch.
Brett caught it. “You okay?” He shifted all his dishes to one hand and touched my arm with the other. “She didn’t think.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t the first time Lo had made a comment like that, an off-the-cuff phrase. Roger did it too, and Howard once or twice. Vicky almost did once, but she caught herself and changed the topic.
Maybe Vicky realized more than the others.
“I’m grateful that they don’t think about it when they say things like that,” I told him. “I know they worry about the fanatics and the reporters, but they don’t think about that actual day. Not anymore. Vicky… She remembers sometimes, and she gets this sad look on her face when she looks at me.”
I wasn’t back there, not totally. I wouldn’t let myself go all the way there, but there were flashes I couldn’t stop from coming.
An image from under the bed where I’d been hiding, with the sheet hanging down.
From that angle, I’d seen the door slowly opening, his boot as he stepped inside.
