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“Watch it,” he said, shooting me a look.
“So can I stay? Even if I’m not a rabbit?” Katie asked him.
“I suppose. No trouble from you two though. Mizzoni’s pretty sensitive after the foosball table got broken last time.
“I don’t even like smoozeball,” Katie assured him.
“Let’s get a drink,” I suggested to my tiny date, and the two of us took seats at the bar where Mizzoni waited.
“Hello Katie,” he said politely.
“Hi Grumpy Goalie,” she replied.
“Katie,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Stephano is our host. Maybe we shouldn’t call him names.”
“You and Mommy call him that all the time.”
“Lovely,” Mizzoni said. “Also, probably fair.”
“See?” Katie asked me.
“Is Clara coming soon? She has a civilizing effect on the two of you,” he said, looking between me and my tiny sidekick.
“Mommy’s coming later when she’s done with work.”
I’d been home a lot more lately, helping Mom with a few things, and taking up a bit of the slack for Clara so she could return to the field. Of course, time was short since the season was underway, but I took every chance I could get to see my girls. We had a bye this weekend, so Mizzoni had agreed to host. Things looked a little different during the season, however.
There were a few light beers around, but most of the guys didn’t drink much during the season, so there were a lot more sodas and waters scattered across Mizzoni’s outdoor space. There were radiant heaters blasting from above too, since the cold had come in hard and fast this year.
The feeling in our now-familiar gathering spot had gone from resort pool party to sedate cozy family gathering, and I had no problem bringing Katie around. These guys were my family, after all, and so was she.
Katie settled in at the table with Derek Reed, a new addition to the team who I still didn’t know too well. He didn’t talk much, mostly let his size and terrifying glare do the talking for him, but he and Katie had forged some kind of weird bond over jigsaw puzzles, and that’s what they were focused on now. She probably knew Reed better than most of his teammates.
“Hey Clara!” Drea’s voice caught my attention and I turned to see her hugging Clara, who’d just come around from the back gate. I slid off my stool and headed toward her, my heart beating out a happy rhythm that felt familiar now, since Clara had become part of my days and nights.
She and Drea exchanged a few words, smiling and laughing, and then I swept in, picking my girl up and spinning her around with a kiss.
“Hi,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine and sending my insides into the familiar melty shiver they did every single time she looked at me.
“Hey baby,” I said, putting her back on her feet and kissing her cheek. “Get you a drink?”
“Sure,” she said, taking my hand. I watched her eyes find Katie, assuring herself that her daughter was happy, and then she turned back to me. “How was your test?”
We settled back at the bar top, and Mizzoni leaned over to give Clara a kiss on the cheek and place a glass of white wine in front of her. “Was that today, Sly?” he asked.
Simpson, on Clara’s other side leaned in. “Which one was this? Management Science?”
“Oh, dude. That sounds tough,” Gillespie added, stepping close from behind us. “How do they test you on something they’re calling a science that is seriously not a science at all? It’s like they made some shit up and if you don’t agree with all the pretend shit they invented, you fail.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “It wasn’t that bad. I don’t think I aced it, but I think I’ll pass.”
“So how many more classes do you have, brother?” Simpson asked.
“Six,” I told him.
“And then you’re retiring for sure?” Gillespie asked.
Clara was beaming at me, the pride in her face so clear I marveled at how it could possibly be directed at me. But it was. She’d told me that my life would be easier if I just told my teammates what I was doing. And she’d been right. I’d thought they would make fun of me, or maybe worry about me being distracted. But once again, I’d been shown I was wrong.
