Текст книги "Covering Kendall"

Автор книги: Julie Brannagh

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Eleven

THERE WAS A reason for that old cliché about houseguests and fish starting to stink after three days. Neil McCoy wasn’t exactly a houseguest, but he’d been slowly driving Drew insane for the past several days while camping out at his house. Drew would be staying overnight at the team hotel this evening in preparation for tomorrow’s game. He could pack his garment bag in his sleep, but he was worried about what mischief his dad could get into while he was gone. He’d already asked Owen, to make something meat-and-potatoey for his dad’s dinner tonight. If Drew was lucky (and Neil wasn’t bored) he would stay home and order an action-adventure movie on pay-per-view or something.

Drew wanted to send his dad to his room without his dinner. Neil had been sullen and irritable since he arrived in Seattle.

“Dad, this is not a competition. You love her. She loves you. Go home and work it out,” Drew pleaded for the hundredth time since he found his dad napping on his family room couch. His older brother and both of his sisters had tried to convince their father to return to Wisconsin via long distance phone calls and Skyping. “What’s going on with you? You’re acting like a child, Dad. What would you say to me?”

“No, I am not acting like a child, and I am not calling your mother. She can apologize to me. I’m not the one who’s ignoring my household duties, and I’m not crawling back to her, either,” Neil said. “You . . . you wouldn’t be happy if your wife wasn’t cooking dinner for you and making sure things were nice at home, either.”

Neil put his hands on his hips and tried to look angry, but Drew could see the sadness in his dad’s expression. Instead of talking with Drew’s mom and telling her he felt worried he was losing her, he blew his stack and stomped around. Drew’s mom didn’t take that from her kids, and she sure wasn’t taking it from her husband, either.

“Crawling back to her, Dad? Really? That’s not the point. You’re being stubborn. Mom’s not doing this to hurt you. It’s a part-time job. She’s happy. Why can’t you accept the fact she wanted something else to occupy her time besides all of us, something she enjoys doing?” Drew heaved a huge sigh and grabbed the suit and tie he’d need tomorrow out of his closet. He’d already grabbed a freshly laundered dress shirt, appropriate underwear, dress socks, and shoes. “You remember how to set the security system when you leave for my game tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

Drew reached into the closet again. “You’ll need something to wear,” he told his dad and handed him one of his game-worn jerseys. “I think I might have a brand-new Sharks hat in here. The weather tomorrow is supposed to be overcast and chilly. Do you need a turtleneck or something to wear under that?”

“I brought my heavy jacket. I’ll be fine.” Neil told him. “Thanks for the jersey. Your mom wears hers every Sunday when we’re watching your game at home.”

Thank God for pay-per-view. He’d fly his parents in each week, but they preferred being at home surrounded by Drew’s siblings and the grandkids. He made a point of finding a TV camera during the third quarter each game, giving his mom a little wave, and mouthing, “Hi Mom. I love you.” Needless to say, the Sharks fans (and the team’s PR department) ate it up, but he wasn’t doing it for them. He knew his mom got a kick out of waiting and watching for it.

“Okay, then. Let me get the hat, and I’m almost ready to go.” Drew grabbed his shaving kit out of the bathroom and made sure he had a couple more of the black covered elastic bands he pulled his hair back with. His fingers closed over the brim of a brand-new Sharks logo hat, which he handed to his dad. “Dad, Owen will be here in about an hour. He’s making you some steak and potatoes for dinner, and he’s bringing you a few snacks and maybe a Bud or two. If you want to stand on the sidelines for the game, you’ll need to be there a couple of hours early. The guy at Will Call gets a team employee to make sure you get where you’re going.”

“Thanks, Son.” His dad held out both arms. “Good luck tomorrow. We are so proud of you.” Drew was folded into the huge bear hug his dad had been giving him since he was a little boy. They slapped each other on the back.

“I’m proud of you too, Dad, and I’ll be prouder still when you go home and make up with Mom.” He backed away a little and grabbed his dad by the biceps. “I’ll be driving you to the airport Monday morning, so if you want to get Mom some of that candy you talked about, you might want to stop by there tomorrow before the game.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” his dad said, but he smiled. “Kicking your old man out?”

“Sending my old man home where he belongs. Bring Mom next time.”

“I might.”

The doorbell rang downstairs. Drew wasn’t expecting anyone; it wasn’t Girl Scout cookie time, so he was tempted to not answer. Owen knew how to let himself in, so it couldn’t be him. A minute or so later, the doorbell rang again.

“I’d better see who that is,” Drew said to his dad and headed downstairs. He didn’t see anyone when he looked through the peephole in the door, but he opened it anyway. He saw her sweet smile when she poked her head around the doorframe.

“Surprise,” his mother said.

“Mom! What are you doing here?”

Drew’s mom, Bonnie, threw her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. I have missed you so much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way? I would have picked you up at the airport.” He gave her a huge squeeze. “I’ve missed you too.”

“The plane landed an hour or so ago. I took a shuttle here.” Drew glanced up to see the driver wave as he got back into the van. “It’s so easy, and the flight was nice. I brought one bag.” She kissed his cheek. “I won’t be here long. I’m picking up your father, and we’re going home.”

He heard his dad’s heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor of the entryway.

“I’ll go home when I want to,” his father said. Drew almost let out a groan. In other words, he was back to acting like a child.

Drew’s mom reached back to grab the handle of a small rolling suitcase, stepped around him, and faced her husband.

“No, you’re coming home with me. Our son has enough on his plate without acting as a referee between us,” his mother scolded. “I’ll stay in the other guest room, and we’ll be going home tomorrow.”

“Don’t you want to see my game, Mom? I can get you a suite ticket. You’ll have fun, and I’d love it if you were there.”

“Oh, yes, honey, but not if I’m intruding.” She glanced up at Drew. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the team hotel tonight?”

“You could never intrude, Mom. Let me get this set up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolled to find the Sharks’ PR director’s number, and hit “dial.”

Drew’s parents were still glaring at each other. He had to be at the hotel in less than an hour, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave at the moment. His dad would never put hands on his mom, but they were sure as hell still angry with each other. He hated to think of them spending the evening fighting and unhappy, but there was little he could do about the situation right now. His little mom looked like a housecat that was defending her turf, and his dad was the neighborhood German shepherd. This wasn’t going to end well.

He heard a “hello,” and he put the phone up to his ear. “Hi Colleen, it’s Drew McCoy. I’m wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

“Of course, Drew. How can I help?”

“My mom, Bonnie, just arrived in town. Both of my parents will be at the game tomorrow, if they can get into the team suite.”

“Absolutely. I’ll take care of it. Would they like sideline passes?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll make that happen,” Colleen said. “Leave it up to me.”

Easiest phone call he’d made all week. He thanked her, said goodbye, and ended the call. Maybe he was imagining it, but his dad had sidled over to his mother a little. He had to get his ass in gear and go to the hotel. He couldn’t leave them like this, though.

“Mom, my chef will be here in a little while to make dinner for you lovebirds,” he said. He had no idea if Owen would have enough ingredients, but he always seemed to cope admirably with whatever food situation he found himself in. “I need to go, but I’m not leaving until you at least kiss each other and say hello.”

“I can make myself a sandwich,” his mother said.

“No, Mom, let Owen cook for you.” He put his hands on his hips. “Do I need to send you to your rooms? Nice greeting. I need to see it.”

His dad folded his lips and raised an eyebrow. His mother put her bag back down on the hallway floor.

“I can be an adult even if you’re having problems with that right now, Neil,” she said. He scowled in response. She moved closer to his father, slipped her arms around his waist, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hello,” she said.

Neil’s arms surrounded her. “Hello,” he said, and he gave her a peck on the mouth.

“That’s not a kiss,” Drew said.

“This is private—”

“When you dragged me into it, Dad, it stopped being private.”

Father and son stared at each other over Bonnie’s head. “Fine,” Neil said. He stroked his wife’s cheek with one big hand. “I missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too.”

His dad kissed his mother—a real kiss, not that pecking at her stuff. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His parents were ignoring him, and he was happy about that. It was time for Drew to make himself scarce.

THE NEXT DAY, the Sharks beat Dallas 30–6. Drew had a pair of sacks, several tackles, and had batted down a pass. His parents were holding hands on the sidelines. He knew he was going to have to spend a little more time making sure things were fine between them when he got home, but it was great to see them at one of his games.

Instead of finding a TV camera in the third quarter and delivering his message to his mom, he crossed the tape line the grounds guys made each week on either side of where the team set up on the fifty yard line to keep spectators out of their area. She wasn’t hard to pick out of the sidelines crowd. He hugged and kissed her and rejoined the team.

Coach Stewart caught up with him a few minutes later. “I’m going to have to fine you for that, McCoy.”

“I realize that. Had to say hi to my mom.”

The coach gave him a slap on the back. “It’s good to see your parents here.” He tugged on the mouthpiece of his headset and moved off to another part of the sidelines as the offense took the field again.

Two hours later, Drew walked out of the Sharks locker room and met up with his parents.

“How about I take you out for dinner tonight? You loved John Howie Steak the last time we went there.” Drew grinned at his mom. “I’ll get you one of those caramel ganache tarts for dessert.”

“Thank you, honey, but you don’t have to do that. Your dad took me to the store this morning, and I have a roast cooking at your house. I’ll make the potatoes when I get to your place. There’s a salad, and I baked a chocolate cake.” His mom’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t leave you here without a good dinner and some leftovers for this week.”

“Mom, I’ll help you with the dishes.”

“Your dad actually loaded the dishwasher, honey.” His mom was blushing. His dad did a lot more than “load the dishwasher,” if Drew was reading the situation correctly. He did his best not to flinch.

Neil slipped his arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Come on, Son. Let’s go home.”

Derrick walked out of the locker room and came to a screeching halt. “Mama McCoy,” he said.

She let out a squeal and threw her arms around him. “Derrick, it’s so good to see you!”

His dad let out a grunt, but he reached out a hand to Derrick. “Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mr. McCoy.” Derrick shook his hand and turned to Drew. “Are you meeting us at Ruth Chris’s for dinner tonight?”

“My mom made dinner for us at my house,” Drew said.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner, Derrick? We’d love to see you, and there’s plenty to eat,” his mom said.

“Yeah, D,” Drew said. “Go get Taylor and ask him if he’d like to come over. We’ll grab a drink or something afterward.”

The Sharks had won, so the players would visit the facility to verify they were healthy on Monday morning and not be expected back to work until Wednesday morning. Many of the single Sharks could be found at some of the nightclubs in the Seattle area on home game Sunday nights as a result. Drew took it easy on the alcohol during the season, but he liked to socialize with his teammates.

Seth must have heard his name. He emerged from the locker room a minute or so later and headed toward Derrick and Drew.

“What’s up? Are we going to the steakhouse? I’m starving.”

“We’re going to Drew’s house instead,” Derrick said. “His mom is cooking, and you’re invited.”

Drew’s mom gave Seth a hug. “I baked a chocolate cake,” she said.

“I’ll be there,” Seth said. “Thank you for the invite.”

Drew’s mom was beaming. “Why don’t you invite some more of your teammates, honey?”

“I’m not sharing your chocolate cake with anyone else, Mom. Let’s get out of here,” Drew said. His dad took Bonnie’s arm and propelled her toward the parking lot.

“We’ll see you at home in about half an hour or so,” Drew called after them.

DREW, SETH, AND Derrick headed toward the team bus. They’d pick up their cars at the Sharks’ training facility. Drew hoped his mom had made a side of beef or something. She was used to how much he could eat, but she hadn’t fed these knuckleheads for a couple of years. Maybe she forgot what it was like. Maybe he should pick up some more food at the store or something.

Derrick must have read his mind.

“We’d better stop on the way to your place and get some flowers and wine or something, man. My mama would kick my ass if I showed up empty-handed,” Derrick said.

“You know what’s going to happen if we walk into a grocery store together,” Drew said.

“It won’t be that bad,” Seth said to Drew. “The wine department is right by the flowers at that store near your house. We’re in, we’re out, no problemo.”

“Oh, sure,” Drew said. “Like you know what to buy there.”

“Your mom’s serving red meat,” Seth said. “I’ll be buying red wine.”

“Where the fuck did you learn that one?” Derrick said.

“My mom told me.”

“Well, then,” Derrick said. “You’re just a goddamn somi . . . soma . . . what the hell are they called? Wine guys who tell you what to get?”

“Sommelier,” Drew said. “Plus, there are tags on the wine displays giving hints on what might be best to buy and drink with the food you’re having.”

“Oooh. Aren’t we fancy?” Derrick said. “Did your mom tell you that too? She’s a nice lady, so I’m not going to kick your ass for that.”

Seth rolled his eyes, and Drew laughed. Derrick had meted out some punishment on the field today, but he’d be in a much better mood after he had something to eat.

The three men were back in their vehicles and speeding down 405 to Drew’s house minutes later. They pulled into the lot outside of the neighborhood grocery store, and Drew gestured for them to gather around.

“Listen. We’re asking for it,” he said. “Derrick, you grab the flowers. They have those pre-made bouquets, and my mom likes pretty much everything. Seth, you get a couple of bottles of wine. I’ll keep us moving. Remember, get what we need and head to the nearest checkstand.”

“Got it.” They all did a fist bump and half-jogged into the store.

Seth’s optimism wasn’t rewarded. Three Sharks in one grocery store less than two hours after a team victory was a recipe for bedlam, and this was no exception. Seth darted into the wine section, Derrick headed toward the flowers, and Drew heard the first shouted “Go Sharks!” less than thirty seconds later as he tried to head to the ice cream section. He was surrounded by fifteen autograph seekers almost immediately.

“Great game!”

“Will you sign this, ‘To the hottest woman I’ve ever met’?”

“My son’s school is having a fundraising auction. Would you donate a game-worn jersey to it?”

A little girl was tugging on his pants leg. “Would you sign this for my daddy?” She held up an issue of Sports Illustrated with the Miners’ QB on the cover.

The grocery store manager arrived on the run. Drew glanced up from signing autographs and said to him, “Would you please grab a couple of pints of Ben & Jerry’s for me? Something that goes with chocolate cake would be nice.”

“Sure,” the guy said. Seconds later he heard an announcement over the store’s intercom. “Customers, please allow our special guests to get in line at a checkstand. Thank you for shopping at the North Bellevue QFC, and Go Sharks.”

Derrick and Seth had emerged from the floral and wine departments and were attempting to steer a cartful through other Sharks fans who also wanted autographs. Drew managed to pull his phone out of his pocket, punched in his home number, and waited until his mom answered the phone.

“Mom, we’re at the store. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“What’s going on there, honey? It sounds like a mob scene.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be there soon,” he said and ended the call.

The store manager was now attempting to disperse the crowd. “They have places to go too. C’mon. Let’s let them by.” He was also kind enough to open a checkstand just for them, and he walked them out to the parking lot to make sure they got in their cars and away safely.

They pulled into Drew’s driveway less than five minutes later. Drew got out of the driver’s seat and regarded his teammates. “That was interesting.”

“I’ll say.” Derrick waved the register tape at Seth. “We’ll settle up later. Let’s go eat Drew’s mama out of house and home.”

DREW NOTED THINGS seemed a little less tense between his parents than they had been before he’d left for the team hotel last night, but going out with his teammates later was probably out. His dad was back to calling his mother “babe,” and she let him have the spatula to lick after she frosted the chocolate cake. Drew managed to distract Derrick and Seth from this fact. He didn’t need the two of them in the kitchen badgering his mom to let them lick the mixer bowl. He really needed to make sure his mom and dad at least talked about their differences before he took them to the airport tomorrow. He loved his parents, but he needed a few freaking days of peace and quiet.

Drew’s mom took a look at the label on the wine Seth bought and called out, “Honey, are you sure about this? This stuff’s pretty expensive.”

“I bought it, Mrs. McCoy,” Seth said. “It had a ninety-nine from Wine Spectator. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Bonnie shook her head. “You boys need to learn the words table wine,” but she laughed as she said it.

It seemed like an eternity since he’d awoken in Kendall’s bed, and it had been less than a week. He’d sent her a text the other day:

I can’t stop thinking about you, either.

She hadn’t answered. Maybe she’d counted the cost of continuing involvement with him. He knew he was out of his mind to persist at all; his career would go on, but he worried about hers. What kind of shit would he be if he got her in serious trouble at the office over the party in his pants?

Derrick and Seth were attempting to teach his dad how to play Call of Duty. Drew walked into the kitchen and sat down on one of the bar stools in front of his kitchen island.

“Mom, is there anything I can do to help you out?”

“Why don’t you carry a few of these things to the table for me?”

She indicated a napkin-wrapped basket of bread, the big bowl of salad, and the bowl of mashed potatoes crowned with a big pat of melting butter on top. His stomach rumbled. He missed his mom’s home cooking, and the laughter and teasing between himself and his brother and sisters when they got together for Sunday dinner in Wisconsin when he was on the offseason. She was transferring a gigantic roast from the pan she’d cooked it in to a platter when she glanced up and grinned at him. “It’s a good thing I got the big piece of meat, honey. I’m afraid there won’t be a lot of leftovers.”

“That’s okay, Mom. I’ll have to fly home on the bye week so we can have dinner again.”

He carried the bowls and the bread basket to the dining room table. The wine was already opened and waiting for them. If he offered to pay their plane fare, he wondered if his family would be willing to visit over Thanksgiving weekend this year. He had to play on Thanksgiving, but he would be happy to make himself a turkey sandwich with the dinner leftovers when he came home to a house full of his family members.

One of the few drawbacks to playing in the NFL was the fact holidays weren’t celebrated on the day they happened for most players, who were far from family and friends six months a year. It was a price to pay, but after retirement, he’d make up for all the Thanksgivings and Christmas mornings he missed with his family.

The four men ate until they couldn’t hold any more. Drew’s mom beamed as Derrick shoved his chair back, patted his belly, and said, “Thank you so much, Miss Bonnie. I can’t eat another bite.”

“There’s chocolate cake for dessert,” his mother enticed.

“Well, maybe one more bite,” Derrick said. Drew’s mom reached out to pat him on the cheek. To Drew’s amazement, Derrick blushed and smiled at her like he was five years old or so.

“Where’s your mama and grandma tonight?”

“They’re having dinner at their pastor’s house.”

Seth let out a snort.

“You didn’t want to go?” Bonnie asked.

Derrick glanced down at the table. “This is much more enjoyable,” he said.

Drew’s dad hid his grin behind a napkin.

“Mrs. McCoy, thank you so much for the delicious dinner. Would you like some help with the dishes?” Seth said.

“You boys are so sweet, but I can handle it,” his mother said. Four men stood up from their chairs when she got to her feet.

“No, Mom,” Drew said. “You go relax. We’ll handle the dishes, and then we can have some dessert.”

The guys stacked the dirty dishes, cleared off leftovers, and loaded the dishwasher while Drew’s mom perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island and directed traffic. Even Drew’s dad got in on the action, which he was pleased to see. A few minutes after the last leftovers went into the refrigerator and the dishwasher came on, Bonnie started a pot of coffee, brought out the cake, and sliced large portions for her husband, her son, and his friends.

“Does anyone want some ice cream?” she asked, wielding a big spoon.

“Yes, please.”

“Yes, babe.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Derrick grinned at her. “Will you adopt me?”

“You have a mama and a grandma. I know they spoil you.”

“I can always use more spoiling,” Derrick said.

She handed the cake and ice cream around, cut a much smaller piece of cake for herself, and sat down on the big sectional couch in Drew’s family room.

Seth put his plate down on the coffee table in front of him and pulled the chirping phone out of his pocket. He handed the phone to Derrick.

“They’re all at Element Lounge,” Seth said.

“There’s a gigantic piece of home-baked chocolate cake with my name on it,” Derrick told him. “They can wait.”

Drew knew Derrick and Seth weren’t going to want to hang out with his parents all night no matter how much food his mom made for them. Sure enough, half an hour later, Derrick carried his plate and coffee cup to the kitchen sink.

“We hate to eat and run, but we’re going to eat and run,” he told Drew’s mom. “Thank you so much for a wonderful dinner.”

Seth wrapped his arms around Bonnie. “It’s the best dinner I’ve had since my mom made me dinner last week,” he assured her. She laughed out loud.

“That’s a pretty big compliment, Seth,” she said.

“You’ll take me in when my mom gets sick of me, right?” Seth said.

“Of course. You’re both welcome.”

“D. Want to go with us tonight?”

Typically, he would. He’d have a drink or two, dance with some beautiful women, and goof around with his teammates, but tonight, he needed to find out if his mom and dad had officially made up before they went back to Wisconsin in the morning.

“Sorry, guys. I think I’ll hang out here.”

“Honey, you can go. We’re going to pack and get some sleep. Really.”

His mom made the “shoo” hand motions, but he wasn’t caving.

“I don’t get to spend that much time with you in the first place. I can spend some time with these guys next week on that flight to Dallas,” Drew said.

“Oh, that’ll be a fun time, won’t it?” Derrick said.

“Hell, yeah. The flight attendants make sure there are freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home,” Seth said. He got up from the couch, hugged Drew’s mom, and shook Drew’s dad’s hand. “I’ll look forward to hopefully seeing you soon.”

“He just wants more of that cake,” Derrick said. “So do I.”

A few minutes later, Seth and Derrick were on their way to the nightclub, and his mom was puttering around in the kitchen again.

“Mom, Dad,” he said. “Would you like another cup of coffee?”

“No, honey. I won’t sleep as it is,” his mother said.

“Thanks, Son, but no thank you.”

“Why don’t we sit down again for a little while?” He gestured to the kitchen table. “We can chat a bit more before you need to get some shut-eye.”

“That’s really not necessary—” his mom said. She was interrupted by his dad.

“We’re fine, Son. Don’t worry about us.”

“Mom. Dad. C’mon.” He sat down at the table. His parents slid into chairs across from him. “What can I do to help?”

His dad let out a sigh. “We don’t need help. This is a disagreement. When your mom quits that job of hers, it’ll be over.”

“I’m not quitting my job, Neil. I’m enjoying it. It doesn’t affect your life at all, so I can’t figure out why you are reacting this way to it,” his mom said.

“You’re not home when I want you to be there—”

“Dad, maybe Mom doesn’t like it when you work overtime or weekends, either. Did you ever ask her?”

“I’m providing for the family. That’s different.”

“Dad, it’s not different.”

“Why are you taking her side?”

“There’s no side. We’re a family. We team up and work together. Isn’t that what you’ve been teaching me my whole life? Did you forget?” Drew said.

His dad’s shoulders were hunched over again, and he didn’t look up from the table. “No, I didn’t forget.”

“Well, then. How can we work this out so everyone will be happy?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, honey,” his mom said.

He put his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “Maybe you should let your partners do some of the overtime and weekends.”

“I’m getting close to retirement. I need to bank that money.”

“Dad. Come on. Work with me here. I know there’s plenty of money for you and Mom, and if you ever needed help, I’m here.”

“We’re not taking money from you.”

“Well, it’s there if you need it,” Drew said. “Mom, will you agree to ask your boss if you can work Monday through Friday unless you’ve made an arrangement with Dad?”

“Honey, the only people who get to work exclusively Monday through Friday during the day are people who’ve been there a lot longer than I have.”

“Ask them. The worst thing they can say is no. Dad, if Mom is making adjustments in her working hours, you’ll need to do that too.”

His dad’s mouth dropped open and shut. No sound came out.

“I mean it, Dad. It’s time to compromise.”

His father’s mouth formed a flat white line, but he nodded.

“In the meantime, Mom, Dad says he misses your special dinners. Can I help with that?”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“I can pay for a chef a couple of nights a week so you can relax and enjoy yourselves, or I can get you some gift cards for restaurants you like. Which would you prefer?” Drew said.

“No, thank you,” Bonnie said. “We don’t need a chef. It’s just the two of us, and cooking a big dinner can be a challenge on weeknights. I tried making some ahead and freezing them, but he didn’t like that, either.”

“Dad—”

“I want to know she thinks of me when I’m not around,” his father burst out. “She always made things nice for me. She’s busy now.”

His mother reached across the table and took her dad’s big meaty hand in both of hers. “I’m always thinking about you, Neil. Why would you believe I don’t?”

“You have other things to do. You don’t cook unless the grandkids come over now. I don’t want to sit and watch TV without you.”

If Drew had ever gotten a hint that maybe he should make himself scarce, that was the time. He’d gotten his parents talking. They needed to sort out their differences on their own. Maybe they needed to make an appointment with their pastor or something, to talk with a trained professional.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the stairs to his room, grabbing his overnight bag on the way. His parents barely nodded in his direction. His dad was holding his mom’s hand and they were still talking. Hopefully, they’d keep talking.

Drew unpacked his bag and changed into some warm-ups and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs, but maybe that was best. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and sent Kendall a text.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

Twenty minutes or so later, he heard footsteps in the hallway outside of his bedroom, and he opened the door a crack to see what was going on. His parents were holding hands and turned into the guest room next door. He heard the door shut behind them. This might be an even better time for him to go downstairs for a while. He loved his parents, but they needed some privacy.

He sat down on the couch in the family room, pulled out the book Kendall had lent him, and kept reading the same page over and over before he finally gave up and threw his forearm over his eyes. Maybe he should watch a little TV; it might relax him. He clicked through the channels until he found a rerun of Treehouse Masters. Maybe he’d hire the guy to build a treehouse in the greenbelt that ringed his backyard.

Drew was interested in watching the TV program, but he couldn’t stay awake. It had been a long day. He usually was in bed by ten on game days. He held up his phone to see what time it was: ten forty-four. Hopefully, his mom and dad were sleeping now. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and heard someone knocking on his front door.

It was pretty freaking late for the guys to drop by and see if the cake was all gone. Maybe one of them left their phone at his house. He hurried to the front door and looked through the peephole.