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“Rough week. Doctor thinks she’s close to teething or it’s colic. Either way, it’s not much sleep.”
“I can recommend a few names for a night nurse,” my mom says.
“No.” Saylor’s response is swift. “Thank you, but I’ll get through it.”
“We’ll get through it.” Adler walks into the dining room, kissing the top of Saylor’s head before taking the seat next to her. Like her, he immediately helps himself to some wine.
I cover my smile with my glass.
My brother has dark circles under his eyes too. But aside from his obvious exhaustion, he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him, watching our mom cradle his daughter.
“Where was that go team mentality at three a.m.?” Saylor teases.
“I didn’t hear her!”
Saylor rolls her eyes, then sips more wine.
“Last scrimmage went poorly,” my father comments.
Five minutes. We went five minutes with no one bringing up football. And my dad mentions it in his typical no-nonsense fashion. Most of the time, he’s measured and serious. Just like Adler. And my mom. None of them knew quite what to do with my exuberance or flair for drama. And it’s probably why I felt an immediate kinship with Saylor the first time I met her. She lives life loudly too.
“Adler played well, though,” I comment, trying to be a supportive sister. It always feels like the least I can do since Adler shouldered the burden of being a Beck when I shunned it.
“You saw the match?” Adler asks, glancing at me in surprise.
“No,” I lie. “Just assuming you did.”
If I admit I went to the friendly match last weekend, I’ll have to share why I went. Which will lead to an unnecessary conversation about Noah and our short-lived relationship.
I lose interest in guys fast. There’s an initial flash of appeal and attraction that always dwindles away. So, I’ve stopped mentioning guys to my family to avoid the knowing looks when I tell them we’re no longer seeing each other.
Adler looks fond and a little exasperated as he nods. “Wagner signed a new striker,” he tells our father. “He starts practicing with the team tomorrow.”
My stomach does a strange clench when my brother mentions Will. His vulnerable, defeated expression when he asked for a tour guide flashes in front of my face.
“Really?” Unsurprisingly, that captures my father’s total attention. “You’ve met him?”
Adler nods, which captures mine.
“And?” my father prompts.
“He’s…it’ll be interesting.” Adler rubs his jaw, shrugging.
Having met Will, I know exactly what my brother means. Everyone else looks confused.
Adler glances at Saylor. “He’s American.”
“He is?”
“Yeah. Knew who you were. He said he grew up near Lancaster.”
“In Connecticut?”
“I guess?”
“You didn’t ask?” Saylor rolls her eyes.
“It was a brief conversation,” Adler says defensively.
