“Well, he saved my life, for starters,” I answered, smiling too when I realized what had prompted Wil to ask that question. Nate had shown up, and as hard as he was trying to stay near the back, out of sight, his presence was obvious. “About six months ago, I had a minor heart attack, and went into cardiac arrest. Nate happened to be there when it happened, and he saved my life.”
“Okay so you just dropped about fifteen different bombs just now, wow.”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “I just need it to be clear, that this thing isn’t for convenience or show. It’s real. And no amount of speculation will change that.”
She gave me a deep nod. “I know that’s right! So with that settled… let’s talk about this heart attack, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed.
So we talked about it.
And then conversation came back around to football, and my experience on the team, and all those other things. And the interview was over, and Wil was hugging and thanking me, and then her team packed up to leave.
And then it was just me and Nate.
“Wasn’t expecting you today,” I told him, frowning over the lack of the usual enthusiasm in his embrace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Uh… kind of? Got some not-that-great news about my father, and I’m… honestly a little dazed. He’s trying to pretend the shit isn’t happening, Cole is trying not to stress about it because of the baby, Mel is… her head is fucked up, but she’s trying to keep a brave face for Emma, and it’s just… it’s a lot,” he admitted, the stress of it all clear in his voice.
“Okay. Okay, um… come here, to the kitchen. Let me fix you some tea, okay?”
Absently, he nodded, and I pulled him along, getting him situated at the counter while I brewed cups of loose leaf for both of us. I already knew about Eli’s cancer diagnosis – he’d told me about it himself, during his apology, and he’d seemed optimistic, even though there was obvious, understandable anxiety.
The new development that Nate revealed, while not touching his tea, was that the tumor they’d found was growing, and rapidly. At what was referred to as, “an alarming rate.”
“But his prognosis is still good though… right?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah. Which helps. But this development means that they aren’t just watching it anymore, now it’s moving into treatment. They have him scheduled for surgery. Next week. And then talking about chemo for a short period after that. Which… he’s not a young man anymore. There are side effects, and complications, and all that, and… I don’t know how to fucking deal.”
“Yes, you do,” I told him, cupping his face in my hands. He was seated, but I was still standing, which put us closer to eye level than usual. “I know for a fact that you know how to take care of someone, even when it’s scary. Obviously, cancer is different, and they’re talking about chemotherapy, and surgery, but… you’ve had practice. You got me up and about, you talked to me, made sure I was taking my medicine and all that, but most of all… you were there. And I knew that if I needed you, all I had to do was call, and that was the most valuable thing. Offer that same big heart to your family.”
Nate wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. It tugged at me when he dropped his face to my neck, clearly seeking comfort that I was more than willing to give, hooking my arms around him to deepen the embrace.
“I canceled my licensing exam,” he told me, seemingly out of the blue, after we’d been like that for a few moments. “I need to focus on my family, and Cole is going to want time to just be with the baby, so…”
“You’re putting a pin it,” I finished for him, when he didn’t complete the statement. I pulled back, so I could see his face – or more so he could see mine, see that I wasn’t just saying what I thought he needed to hear. “Another year or so won’t hurt anything, and that licensure isn’t going anywhere. You’ll get it when it’s time.”
A hint of a smile came to his face. “Look who is saying exactly the right thing now.”
“Well you know… I try,” I teased, pulling a little more of a curve to the corners of his mouth. “Drink this,” I insisted, pointing at the tea. “It’ll help, seriously. You can bring it with you. Let’s go lay down.”
He stood to follow me upstairs, but I could tell there was something else still weighing heavily on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked, stopping him on the stairs. “There’s more… isn’t there?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. It’s just fucked up to find this all out right now. Surgery the week before Thanksgiving, which is like… his favorite time. He’s always in the kitchen with Mel, doing the big meal and all that, and now…”
“That doesn’t have to change,” I offered. “Well… not completely. You already invited me and Madison for the holiday, so… maybe I’ll help Mel. It’s been a long time since I’ve cooked for a bunch of people, since we usually go visit family around this time. But if Mel will have me, and she’s feeling up to it, I’m sure between the two of us we can make it happen.”
“If I know Mel like I think I do, she’d definitely be into it. She’d love that.”
I smiled. “Then it’s settled,” I told him, grabbing his hand to pull him the rest of the way up the stairs. “I’ll even make my mother’s sweet potato pie.”
Seventeen
Whole cranberries
Butter
Brandy – (top shelf)
Exactly what the hell are they making?
I looked up from the list I’d been sent to the store with, scanning the produce aisle for whole cranberries – some shit I’d never even seen before. My eyes landed on a display that held one lonely bag.
Probably the last bag, considering it was Thanksgiving Day.
With a relieved sigh, I put a little extra pep in my step so I could grab it and get back to my parent's house. Back to the couch, back to the TV, back to dark liquor in a short glass and delicious smells coming from the kitchen.
But apparently, I wasn’t the only one who needed them.
The bag was in my sights, almost in my grip, and my gaze was already turned toward my hand basket, assessing where I’d put it. However, as soon as I grabbed it, I felt a tug. With the way the display was set up, the signage advertising the cranberries blocked the view of the other side, so whoever was trying to get it probably hadn’t seen me.
Which was fine.
Those cranberries were still coming home with me.
I gave a firm tug, effectively claiming the bag for myself, and would’ve been unfazed by the feminine “Hey!” that came from the other side of the display if it hadn’t sounded so damn familiar. Frowning, I peeked around the signage at the same time my cranberry-sparring partner stepped to my side, pretty face set in a deep scowl.
Leya.
“Seriously, Nate?” she asked, her expression easily shifting into a smile once she realized it was me. “See what happens when you quit me? Found yourself stealing cranberries from helpless women on Thanksgiving Day. You’ve fallen so far.”
I laughed, feeling adequately ashamed of myself, but hey, “I’m actually stealing them for a woman, so I feel like it’s justified. For a good cause.”
“The cause being… filling your belly while you watch the game?” she asked, stuffing her own handwritten list into the pocket of her coat. “Are you having Thanksgiving dinner with Sloane?”
“With my family and a couple of friends too, but yeah. She’s helping my sister and my father’s wife with dinner as we speak.”
Leya nodded. “And you got the lovely task of the all the shit we forgot run,” she correctly deduced, peeking into my basket. “You forgot the foil.”
I glanced at my list. “It’s not on there though…”
“No, trust me,” she laughed. “You should get it. There’s never enough on Thanksgiving.”
“You know what… I think I will. Never can have too much, right?”
“I know from experience,” she nodded. “Sh
ould get you a few points… not that you need them, I mean… Sloane Brooks? When I saw those pictures of you two in London, and realized she must be the one things were “complicated” with for you? Any residual saltiness I felt over us not going anywhere, eliminated instantly. I would’ve dropped me for her too. Sloane is fucking fine, Nate.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, she’s… I’m a very lucky man.”
“You sure as hell are,” she agreed. “So lucky that you could probably spare those cranberries so I can make an old lady smile, right?”
“Not a chance,” I told her, shaking my head. “These cranberries were the don’t come back without them item on the list. I can’t let them go.”
“Ugggh,” she exclaimed, halfheartedly, before her smile came back. “I had to at least try. I’ll just dump the canned stuff in a bowl and chop it up. My folks won't even realize a difference.”
“So we’re good then?” I asked, prompting her to laugh.
“Of course, I could never stay mad at this face,” she teased. “Anyway, it was good to… wrestle over a bag of cranberries with you.”
I extended my arms, pulling her into what I intended to be a quick hug. But, just as we were getting ready to pull away, a male voice said, “Leya?” and her one-armed grip around my waist tightened.
“Please just play along,” she hissed into my ear, before she turned to look at the guy who’d approached us, pushing a shopping cart. “Shawn, hey! Look who I ran into,” she gushed, practically draping herself over me, and putting a hand to my chest. “You remember me telling you about Nate, right? Nate, this is Shawn… my best and oldest friend. Our families are having Thanksgiving together this year.”
Oh.
Ohhhh!
So that’s why this nigga was looking like he wanted to tear me in half. A big ass vein appeared at his temple, and he swallowed before he gave the vaguest of nods.
“Yeah. I remember.”
Leya grinned, eyes wide as she looked up at me – she still had herself pressed against my side. “He remembers. Do you remember me telling you about Shawn?”
Yeah.
I did.
“Of course. Your bestie. How you doing, man?” I asked, extending a hand in his direction. He looked at it, probably debating if he wanted to crush it or smack it away, but in front of her, he wasn’t about to do either one. He accepted it, giving a too-firm handshake – energy he probably wasn’t expecting me to give right back, but I did.
“Can’t complain,” he answered, once we’d pulled back. He was salty as hell, trying not to scowl, so I decided to put him out of his misery.
“I need to get back with these groceries, so I’m going to head out,” I told Leya. “Again, it was good to see you.”
“Likewise,” she answered, pushing up to plant a kiss on my cheek. When she did, I pulled my arms around her again, giving me a chance to speak quickly into her ear.
“That nigga likes you back, just talk to him,” I told her, nodding at the “are you sure?” look she gave me when we pulled apart.
Hell yes I was sure that Shawn who almost certainly had only agreed to go to the grocery store for a chance to be alone with her today, and who was definitely buying into her attempt to make him jealous by being overly-familiar with me, liked her back.
In less than two minutes with them, there was no doubt in my mind.
I left them there to not tell each other how they felt and took myself home, dropping off the bag in the kitchen with Sloane, Mel, Cole, Jordan’s sister, Jess, Madison and Emma. They were talking and laughing, having a great time, all of which stopped when I entered, pretty much letting me know I’d been the subject of the conversation. With my hands up, I backed out, confident that it couldn’t be too rowdy, not with Madison and Emma in there, and went to look for Eli and Jordan.
When I found them, they were embroiled in an intense game of dominoes along with the boyfriend Jess had brought with her. The TV was on, and the liquor was flowing freely, so I found my place and fit right in.
As it got closer to dinner time, our crowd grew – Sloane’s friend Joan and her husband, Miles and their kids, plus Garrett and his date, and Kyle Underwood and his wife and kids, since they were all buddies with my father. Garrett and I had already had a discussion, right after Eli’s surgery, and then I talked it over with Sloane, who hadn’t wanted to make Madison choose who to spend the holiday with.
Everybody was cool.
Not besties, but we didn’t need all that.
All we needed was to be able to enjoy a meal together, and we pulled that off with no issues – mostly because we were too busy stuffing our faces. At the big dining table, Sloane ended up between Madison and Joan instead of next to me, which was fine. It gave me a chance to watch her as she watched everyone else – gave me a chance to see the deep, joyful peace in her eyes as she observed the happiness of her family.
I didn’t even mind it when Cole, seated beside me, made a point of nudging me to ask, “Dude, could you be any more in love with her?”
I… wasn’t sure.
But I was willing to find out.
After dinner, the men oversaw cleaning up and distributing plates and all that, since the ladies had done all the preparing. When we were done, I went searching for Sloane. I found Madison with Joan’s kids and Emma, giving my baby sister the time of her life with a dress-up party. I asked Mads where her mother was, and was pointed outside, where she’d gone to “get some air”.
Something about that didn’t strike me quite right.
I did find Sloane outside, strolling the same path I’d taken with my father a few months before. She was coming toward the house instead of heading away from it, which told me she was probably at the end of her walk.
When she noticed me walking in her direction, a grin spread across her face, but I immediately noticed that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Once I was close enough, I grabbed her hand, squeezing as I pulled her into my open arms.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her, tilting her chin up.
“You mean outside of being intensely tired, and my feet hurting, and my back hurting…”
I could tell she intended for me to stop right there, too distracted by that stuff to interrogate further. But I’d seen tired Sloane, seen in-desperate-need-of-a-massage Sloane, and all sorts of in-between. This was… something else.
“Yes,” I told her. “Besides that.”
She met my eyes, and let out a deep sigh. “Do we have to? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’m still processing my… I don’t even want to call it an issue, because it’s not an issue.”
“It’s forty degrees out here.”
“I know, I just needed a breather after being in the kitchen all morning, and then dinner, and then…”
“And then… what?”
Sloane let out a breath, then reached into the pocket of her coat, pulling out her phone. “So… I get my phone to respond to Thanksgiving texts from friends, family, players, whatever, right? But while I’m there, I notice I’m tagged a bunch of times in something on social media. I wasn’t thinking much of it, like one of the players maybe tagged everybody, but then… I get there, and I see… this.”
She held up the phone, and my heart dropped at the collage of images, posted by some gossip site. Images of me and Leya – embracing, her kissing my cheek, her draped against my side, me speaking into her ear. And the damn caption…
Just last week, soon to be senior citizen Sloane Brooks was bragging about her young boy toy Nate Richardson in an interview… but looks to us like he snuck away from Grandma’s table to meet up with a prime cut who’s a little less… dry aged. We have the tea on Ms. Honey in these flix. Just hit the link!
“Sloane, this is—”
“Not what it looks like,” she finished for me, tucking the phone back into her pocket. “I know that, which is why, like I said… I was just processing. I know you didn’t leave here to go meet her. I knew that as soon as I saw the pictures. But even knowing the truth,
it still doesn’t feel good, Nate. I’m not holding it against you, I know it’s not your fault, but… it’s shitty. So I came out here to take a second.”
“And that’s understandable. I do want to make clear that I ran into her completely by chance – and she was with a guy who she wants to be with. She was putting on a show for his benefit, trying to get a reaction out of him. That’s all.”
“I believe you,” she assured, immediately. “This is not an us issue, it’s a me issue.”
I shook my head. “Nah, there’s no such thing. I have to be mindful – even when it’s innocent to me, it’s not a good look, and I have to be cognizant of that. You have the higher profile here, and there are people who… just want to tear shit down. I’m not interested in giving fuel to that fire.”
“I appreciate that,” she nodded. “Especially after… you know. What I went through with Garrett. Being in a position where I’m getting constantly embarrassed by someone who claims to love me… it’s not something I want to do again. So that means a lot to me.”
“And you mean a lot to me,” I told her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders to pull her in close. “Were you really not going to bring this shit up to me?”
She laughed. “While we were here? Hell no. Later? Probably. Like I said, I just had to sort through my thoughts first. Especially since I was the one who pushed the whole Leya thing, so…”
“Nah, man,” I chuckled. “If we’re going to be non-traditional, let’s do it. Instead of letting shit fester, let’s just talk about it. What the fuck am I gonna do, break up with you?”
Grinning, she shook her head. “You worked way too hard for this position to walk away from it. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Exactly. So… you don’t ever have to suffer in silence, or process shit that makes you feel unsure, or whatever. However long this thing between us is going to last, the end isn’t going to be because of a conversation. Okay?”
She let out another sigh – a deep, contented one this time. “Okay.”
“Alright. Now… let’s get in here and find Garrett and his date, and whoop their ass in spades.”
Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6) Page 25
