AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What he means is that Rylan wasn’t commanding them. He’s the center midfield and he was really off his game the other night.
“Yeah. I wonder what could’ve thrown him off. I mean, the man played the day after his grandma died and scored the most goals and assists in one game in the history of the team.”
My dad shrugs. He likes me to think he doesn’t care about Rylan, that after we broke up, Rylan was put on his shit list, but we both know that’s not true.
He puts the onions in a dish and starts on the peppers. I jump down to join him, heading to the sink to wash my hands. After I’ve put on my apron, I take a few of the peppers and grab a cutting board and knife. I can’t cut as fast as my dad, but any help is help.
We work quietly for a minute, my mind wandering before I ask, “When Great-Grandma Dori arranged for you and Mom to get together, what did she do?”
He momentarily stops cutting and I regret asking because talking about my great-grandma always brings a tinge of sadness to the room. I’m about to tell him to forget my question when he starts chopping again.
“Don’t go thinking I didn’t fall in love with your mom the minute she arrived in town with you.” He winks, and I roll my eyes.
I’m the product of a one-night stand. My mom had to track down my dad when I was eighteen months old. They were strangers to one another, but they fell in love. It’s like a one-in- a-million story, considering they lived happily ever after.
“I know. The minute she set foot in the restaurant, you knew.”
He points his knife. “Exactly. But G’Ma D just… she had this sly way of making sure you never tripped over your own feet.” He places the knife down and turns around to lean against the counter. “I can’t speak for my siblings, but losing our parents as young as we did… all of us were in different stages of our lives when the accident happened, and I think we each developed our own hang-ups. Mine was that I never wanted anything serious with a woman until I was completely established. Figured I had so many years and my career was the most important thing to me. It’s not like G’Ma D locked us in rooms until we fell in love, she just gently pushed and then she’d…”
A smile comes to his lips. It makes me smile, remembering her too.
“She’d tell you a story about her and Grandpa, or maybe my mom or dad, something that turned on the light bulb and made you get your head out of your ass.” He stares at his feet for a second then turns around and chops peppers. “Why do you ask?”
The letter and the key practically burn a hole in my pocket. I’d love to be forthcoming with my dad. He’s my number one cheerleader, but I need more information first.
I shrug. “Just wondered.”
He turns off the television as if knowing soccer reminds me of Rylan. He probably assumes I want to get back together with him, that this wedding will be another shot after how many before. Another press of the button and his hard rock music belts out of the speakers. I guess that’s the end of our conversation.
Three
Rylan
I get déjà vu on the escalator down to the baggage claim. I was just here eight months or so ago when my grandma Ethel passed away. At least then I was able to fly in and out without having to spend the night. I had hoped for the same short visit when Declan called me six months ago and told me he was going to propose to Aubrey, but I promised him I’d return here as soon as my season ended and unfortunately that was earlier than I’d hoped. Declan should be happy she stood by his side all these years. Anyone who knows Aubrey knows patience isn’t one of her virtues.
My bag is the only one riding the conveyor belt since I stopped upstairs to eat before coming down. Every one of my family members, including my parents, asked to pick me up, but I told them I’d need a car, so I’d drive myself to Sunrise Bay.
Three weeks.
I knew this day was coming, but I still find myself unprepared to see Calista again.
It doesn’t help that it feels impossible to get my head together since we lost in the first round of the playoffs, and I can’t listen to any sports commentary without the subject of my piss-poor performance during the playoffs coming up. Coach said to flush the year, flush the game, but I keep replaying how the opposing players got by me.
I grab my suitcase, bigger than I normally bring home because I haven’t stayed for longer than a week in years. And I can’t really give a reason for that. Or at least one that I’ll admit.
After grabbing a rental SUV, I couldn’t be happier to be driving into Sunrise Bay on my own. Instead of taking the highway, I extend my drive another half hour by taking the back roads, needing time to prepare myself.
Calista and I cannot have a repeat of last Christmas. It’s like having to rip a Band-Aid off a festering wound afterward. When I leave town this time, things between us have to be finished for good. I need to do some soul-searching.
A surge of emotion hits me when I pass the sports performance building that Jamison Ferguson and Kingston Bailey own. I spent all my youth there, and so did Calista. From the time we were six, we trained together under Jamison since he’d played professional soccer in the US and Europe. He’s the entire reason I am where I am.
But my first real memory in that place—other than my annoyance at Calista when she’d beat me to the goal—was when we were fourteen. It was a big tournament and Calista was playing with us because Ian Porter had broken his leg that week. The problem was that by that point, Calista was playing with the girls’ team and since we were both center midfielders, Jamison decided to have us take turns playing center. I laugh, remembering how stubborn she was then and still is.
“Uncle Jamie, you know I’m the better player.” She put her hands on her hips. She’d started wearing shorter shorts and only sports bras by midpractice when she got hot. My juvenile self could barely keep my hard-on hidden.
“You’re kidding. God.” I sighed and shook my head.
Jamison was her uncle and I sometimes felt his loyalty went her way, or he had a soft spot for her because she was a girl.
