“Okay,” I yield. “You don’t suck as a brother.”
“Really, we can?” Jase asks.
“The okay was for Uncle Alec,” I clarify. “I’m not mad at him anymore. As for spending the night, let’s see. And first, your mommy needs a definition of guy movies before I even consider it.”
“What?” Alec asks dismayed. “Cars and Transformers. Where is your mind, sis?”
Jase bounces to his uncle and gives him a big hug, seeming immune to the stench. I begin to wonder if it’s a boy thing. Before I can give it much thought, a giggle rings from my lips as I see the mess Jase has made of Alec’s shirt, not that it wasn’t bad enough with sweat, but the addition of ice cream makes it worse.
“Did you see me hit it over the fence?” Alec asks Jase.
“I did. Can you teach me to do that?”
“After the way you hit that tomato with the big bat, I’d say it won’t be long. Pretty soon I’ll be taking lessons from you.”
“Really?”
Chapter Sixteen
Malcolm
I grip Mandy’s hand tighter as she leads me through the park. As we pass other people, I find myself looking for students from my school or players and parents from the team. The ballfields in the distance are still full of players and spectators, but the open area and playgrounds are beginning to clear out as nighttime settles, the sky steadily growing a richer shade of red as darkness slowly overtakes the blue.
The middle-school soccer team that I’m coaching is actually doing very well. When I’m not preparing for my classroom or talking to—or daydreaming about—Mandy, I’ve been spending my time learning everything I never knew about soccer. Thankfully, I have great help. Rita Sanchez and her husband are very nice and more than willing to help me learn the finer differences between hockey and soccer. For example, there’s no penalty box in soccer, although, sometimes I think it would be a good idea. It also helps that Rita and I share a similar philosophy about the real goal of children’s sports. Instead of emphasizing the outcome, we both agree that instilling a love for the game is more important. Even with that philosophy, I’m happy to report that we have a winning record. More important, every student on the team plays. It’s about teamwork.
While the athletic director knows my history with the Lightning, to the kids on the team, I’m just the coach. I like that. I like getting to know the players without them giving me a status I no longer deserve. Coaching the team and teaching my class feels a little like my rookie year, needing to prove myself as worthy of my new titles. It’s funny how in hockey I was old and now I’m young again.
Holding Mandy’s hand is like that…a new start at life...a new life in all aspects, and I’m enthralled.
Still taking in the multitude of faces, I realize that I’ve never before lived in a town where I might run into people I know. While I like it, I’m not sure I want anyone intruding on the small sliver of time I get to spend with Mandy.
I chuckle to myself, thinking about the last time we were here, parked near the back of the property. Thank God we didn’t run into anyone then.
As we move farther and farther from the car, I lean toward Mandy and whisper in her ear, “Are you taking me to the rear parking lot again?” Though I’m partially teasing, I wouldn’t complain if her answer is yes. “It might have been better to bring the car, but I do have a blanket in the basket.”
“Nope,” she says with her magical giggle. “You promised me a picnic. That means the blanket goes on the ground and then there’s food in that basket, not a front seat and...”
“Fucking?” I ask, lowering my voice even more. Her cheeks bloom and rise as they fill with pink. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, giving me great access to her ear and sensitive skin. I love how casual she looks. It’s not like she isn’t beautiful all dressed up, but there’s something about jeans and a blouse that lets me know she’s comfortable with me. Of course, even when she was dressed up, there wasn’t much—or anything—I didn’t see.
Mandy shakes her head. “Right. None of that.”
I swing the picnic basket from my other hand as the breeze rustles the fallen leaves, blowing them into cyclones around our feet. The Midwest is so different from Florida. Down there, it is still essentially summer, despite what the calendar says. Here, everything is changing. It’s visible by the way the grass crunches under our shoes and the colorful leaves float through the air. As I take it all in, I’m glad Mandy wanted to do something outside. No loud music or bar scene for her. Instead of a band, the music playing is an orchestra of insects humming as everyday people enjoy life in the distance.
“This is so peaceful,” I say.
“It is. I love being outside, especially after being cooped up at work all day.”
I lean down and give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for coming up with this great idea. Although, for the record, the last time we were here wasn’t a bad idea either.”
“I’m glad you could come tonight on such short notice,” she says, taking us away from the other topic at hand.
Instead of commenting like a teenager on how I want to come, I answer equally as truthfully. “I was thrilled to get your text. I didn’t think I’d see you again until later next week.”
“My brother surprised me. He planned something special for my son. I couldn’t say no.”
“So let me get this straight: I get a surprise picnic date, and whatever I come up with for later, you can’t say no?” My eyebrows wiggle.
“Whatever could you come up with?” she asks with a sly, knowing grin.
“I’m sure I can come up with something. I could give you the obvious answer, but you just said that the blanket needs to hold the food.”
Mandy shakes her head. “For your information, I can say no. And every time I’m not with my son, I feel guilty...but...” Her big light-blue eyes turn my way. “I think in his own way my brother is trying to be sweet. He said this was so I could do mommy stuff. I don’t think he meant laundry or grocery shopping.”
“Your family sounds very supportive.”
“They are.” She points up to the trees. With the orange hues of the setting sun, the colors of autumn are more vibrant than only moments earlier. “Aren’t the trees beautiful?”
“Is that your way of changing the subject?”
“Yep. Too real. Focus on us.”
“Okay,” I concede, “but first, I want to say that I’m thankful that your brother is giving us this time.”
She squeezes my hand. “Me too.”
I stare down at the brunette beauty by my side.
Mandy looks up. “What?”
“I’m just focusing on you.”
She shakes her head.
A little later, I lay the blanket over an old wooden table off to the side of the open park. I think it still qualifies as a picnic even if it isn’t on the ground and even though I know the rules, the idea of being on the ground with Mandy makes me ready to forget all about food. The trees behind the table give us a little seclusion while open field and lingering sunlight allows us to see. As I place the basket on the table, Mandy rubs her hands together enthusiastically.