Yes! I reined in a celebratory fist pump and schooled my features into something close to neutral as I rounded the perimeter of the pool to exchange post-game high fives with the opposing team’s coaches. Then I spent a few minutes giving my boys a quick “good job” speech. I kept it short and sweet—we all wanted to go home.
I pulled out my cell from my pocket on the way to my car and winced at the screen. Five missed calls from Derek. Uh-oh.
I pushed Call, setting my equipment bag on the ground as I opened the trunk.
“Hey, babe. I was coaching my club team. I didn’t have a chance to look at my phone till now. You okay?”
“No. We’re doomed, and it’s my fault.”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m having a panic attack. Shortness of breath, racing heart, sweaty palms. All brought on by guilt. I felt bad that I hadn’t filled my parents in on our news, so in a moment of weakness, I called my mother and told her everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah. I told her we signed the contract, secured the business loan, hired a contractor, and that we planned to open before the holidays. She didn’t act surprised at all. In fact, she just asked a lot of questions about hiring staff and how much money we plan to spend on marketing. Long story short, it became a financial conversation. She insisted on investing in our venture. And that’s what she called it. Our venture. Like we’re a couple of kids setting up a lemonade stand. I should have said no. I should have—”
“Hey, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. Quit beating yourself up.” I high-fived one of my players and acknowledged his mom’s “Good game, coach” with a nod as I closed the trunk. “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll see you when I’m done here. The contractor is still taking measurements.”
“I’ll start dinner. Something easy, like pasta. Does that sound good?”
“Perfect. Thank you.” He sighed heavily. “Damn, she stresses me out.”
I hopped into the car and revved the engine to life. My Bluetooth kicked in as I eased out of my parking space and headed for the exit. “I know. Enough about parents. Ask me how awesome I am. Then ask me if my team won. Spoiler alert…they did,” I singsonged playfully.
Derek chuckled. The sound moved along my spine like a magic wand, lighting me up from the inside out. I turned right on 7th Street, grinning like a fool ’cause apparently this was what happened when you were in love. His happiness made me happy. If he was sad or upset, I wanted to fix it. And I knew he felt the same about me.
We complemented each other. I tended to talk around problems before I addressed them. That didn’t work with Derek. He was a type-A personality who wanted details and order in his life. A laid-back approach would make him nuts, but too many rules made me crazy. After three years together, I liked to think we’d learned the art of compromise. We were a good team.
He was my favorite human. He literally made everything seem possible. Coaching a rowdy bunch of teenagers on an elite club team, no problem. Assisting my college coach, easy. Practicing with the national team and going to the freaking Olympics, bring it on. I never doubted myself or my future when I was with Derek. I tried to offer him the same kind of support. I wanted him to know I was always in his corner…no doubts. I wished his parents did too.
They loved him for sure. They were just…difficult. Especially his mom.
I set aside my angst and regaled him with the play-by-play from the game I’d just coached, stretching a five-second goal to last the duration of my drive home. By the time we hung up, he was laughing and everything felt right in my world again.
Later that night, Derek and I sat on opposite ends of the sofa with our legs entwined, watching Sports Center and chatting about our respective days as we passed a pint of ice cream between us.
“I looked at tile samples for the bistro today and narrowed it down to two. One is bright and cheery, and the other is very understated. I think we should go with simple but sharp. I don’t want to be in fashion now, then wish we could redo everything in a year. Although I have to say, the bold blue tile would look nice in our bathroom,” Derek said, licking the spoon like a cat.
“That’s up to our landlords,” I reminded him.
We lived in the bungalow Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn bought Derek’s sophomore year when Evan and he were looking for post-dorm accommodations near campus. They wanted Derek to live in a safe neighborhood, but they also wanted an attractive asset for their portfolio. The two-bedroom, one-bath house was quaint with mid-century features, like original hardwood flooring and arched doorways. The kitchen had been updated, but the bathroom hadn’t. It wasn’t really an issue, though. We lived a couple of blocks from the beach and had a kickass backyard in a desirable section of town. And while we paid rent, we were getting the sweet family deal.
It might be time to think about moving. Our bank accounts would hate us, but we weren’t students anymore.
Derek set the container on the coffee table. “True, but I think my mom would like the tile. She’s coming by to check out the bistro on Sunday. I’ll give her a tour, show her the tile, and weasel out of accepting her investment offer by—”
“Offering her tile? Listen to yourself, Der. You’re a no-nonsense guy in every aspect of your life…except when it comes to your mom.” I reached for his foot, massaging it to keep the sting out of my words. “Just tell her you don’t want her to invest in the bistro. Or do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t, but I don’t want family drama either. I can just see some big blowup going down before the holidays and the grand opening. My nerves can’t deal.”
“Okay.” I tossed the cushions on the floor and motioned for him to lie beside me on the sofa. He eyed me warily but obeyed.
Derek propped himself on his elbow and squeezed my ass. “What’s on your mind?”
“You.”
“Are you worried I’m gonna go nuts?” he joked.
I made a funny face, then nodded. “A little. You’re handling a lot of the remodel on your own. I’m not much of a business partner so far.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re the best business partner! You helped with the finance stuff, choosing the right contractor, and you helped hire a few waiters.”
I snorted. “They’re college students and water polo players. As long as you don’t expect them to memorize the menu in French, they should work out okay.”
“They’ll be fine. And the eye candy alone will be worth dealing with ‘dude’ speak. ‘Dude, want some water? Ready to order, dude? We’ve got some epic specials today.’ ”
His Cali surfer accent was on point. I chuckled softly. “I’m sure you’ll whip them into shape.”
“Not me. I’m delegating. We need to hire a manager. Maybe just part-time to start. I have a lead on a guy who’s an acquaintance of Phoenix’s. We’ll get more info when we meet up this weekend. Did I tell you I’ve got Nix and Mitch helping me with design and marketing?”
“No, but I figured they’d insist.”
“We have a lot of friends who’ve offered help. It’s really cool. Did your mom tell you she wants to be one of my cooks?”