Fooling Around Read online

  “How do you know who you are until you try? Back in college, when I was nothing but a jock, no one would have believed I could have had the vision for developing a successful game and building a whole franchise out of it. But I did. I had help, of course, but I did it. How do you know what you can do, if you never even try?”

  “I don’t know.” She was self-conscious now, feeling like he’d put her on the spot and she had no good response, so she was ready to change the subject. “There’s no sense in worrying about it now, since I can’t do anything for another month and a half, until I’m done with you.”

  “That’s not that long, you know,” he murmured, a new note in his voice she couldn’t interpret.

  “I know. I know.”

  —

  One evening a few days later, Tim had gone downstairs and Eric and Julie were sitting together in the great room. There was a comfortable sectional sofa with an extended chaise on the end that was perfect for Eric to elevate his leg. Julie sat beside him, her feet propped up on an ottoman. She was trying to read, but she was having some trouble focusing. She was mostly just zoning out while Eric flipped between sports channels.

  After about an hour, the constant flipping was starting to get on Julie’s nerves.

  “Can’t you find one station to watch?” she asked.

  He made a face and switched the channel again. “Nah. Everything gets boring after a while.”

  She thought about that for a minute, realizing that even after more than a week of taking it easy, Eric still couldn’t really slow down his mind. “It probably gets boring because all you ever watch is sports.”

  “That’s what I like.”

  “I know, but surely you’d like to watch something else occasionally. What TV shows do you like?”

  “I don’t really like anything else.”

  She put down her e-reader and straightened up. “I don’t believe that. What shows did you used to watch when you were younger?”

  His eyes were on the screen as he flipped back and forth between two stations. “I was never much into TV, except for games. I was always at practice or training or whatever.”

  She’d never really thought about this part of his life before, and she was interested. “Really? Even as a kid?”

  “Well, starting in high school. My whole life was football.” He turned his eyes toward her. “That’s the way it goes, if you have potential. At least, if you have my father.”

  She tried to imagine having your life consumed by an activity like that, and she couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around it. “And you wanted it to be that way?”

  “Of course.” His eyes had widened, and she could see he was telling the truth. “It’s all I ever wanted. To go pro.”

  “And you did.”

  “Yeah. For a little more than a year.”

  “And was it everything you’d dreamed of?”

  She expected him to say yes, since he seemed to be authentically pleased with his time playing football, but his expression changed just slightly and he glanced away from her.

  “It wasn’t?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.

  He sighed and met her eyes again. “It wasn’t like college ball. There was so much…flash, not as much substance. It was just…different.”

  She was absolutely clueless about professional sports. She was pretty much clueless about sports in general. So she had no knowledge to bring to this conversation—just a deep interest in Eric himself. “Well, you got a lot of attention, didn’t you? From the press and everything?”

  “Yeah.” He’d looked thoughtful, but now he gave her a little half smile. “Did you know who I was back then?”

  “No. I didn’t pay any attention to football players. I wouldn’t have known you from Adam.”

  “Oh.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at you—all disappointed because I didn’t know who you were. That’s quite an ego you have.”

  “Maybe.” His brown eyes were warm and surprisingly soft. “But you like my ego, don’t you?”

  “I like it when it’s contained to a manageable size.”

  He chuckled. “What good is an ego if it’s contained?”

  She was smiling too, and they shared a long look until she suddenly remembered there were certain feelings she needed to make sure didn’t get out of control. She turned away and stared at the television until she’d found her composure again.

  “I guess it was really hard when you got that knee injury, then. When you had to stop playing football.” She was still interested in Eric and everything that made him tick. Surely she could ask him some questions while still maintaining the required emotional distance.

  “I guess.” He sounded almost diffident.

  Her eyes flew to his face. “It wasn’t hard?”

  “It was. I mean, I was angry about it, and I was all twisted up about my dad dying. But I’d already been talking to my computer genius buddy about this game, and we decided to make a go of it. It took off so quickly that it filled the gap. I didn’t have time to be depressed.”

  She mostly believed him, and it told her something about him she needed to know.

  He hadn’t let himself grieve the loss of his football career—or even really his father. The loss and the injury that might have left him feeling powerless didn’t have a chance, because he’d poured himself into something else, something else he could excel at.

  He’d spent his whole life doing that—using what might have been a loss and turning it instead into a gain. It had kept him successful and in control—just as his father had raised him—but it also meant he had absolutely no experience being genuinely helpless.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what his daughter’s illness was doing to him—assuming he ever got to the point where he admitted that there was nothing he could do that would keep her alive.

  “What?” he demanded, peering at her suspiciously.

  “Nothing.” She smiled at him, quickly covering her tracks so he wouldn’t know she’d been thinking about him so intimately. “We were talking about TV and how you’re hopeless at focusing on anything.”

  “There’s nothing worth focusing on.”

  “That’s because you only ever watch sports.”

  “Hey!” He feigned outrage, but it looked like he was hiding a smile.

  She reached over and took the remote from his hand. “You need to learn to let go enough to concentrate on a good show, lose yourself in a story.”

  “I’m not really into that.”

  “That’s because you’ve never tried.” She switched over to a streaming channel and moved the cursor down to the row of television shows offered in their complete run. “Let’s try to find something to watch where you don’t flip around.”

  “I always flip around.” He was reaching to take the remote back, but she held it out of his reach.

  “I know you do. That’s what all these devices turn us into—always flipping, checking, switching back and forth. We have no attention span left at all. And the only cure is to keep our hands off.” She leaned over enough to grab his phone too and pull it away from him. “And learn to concentrate again.”

  He made an exasperated noise, but he didn’t genuinely object, so she knew he was willing to humor her, at least for a little while.

  “What about this one?”

  “Never heard of it.” He frowned at the image on the screen. “What’s up with her hair?”

  “She’s a spy and she wears a lot of wigs. I always liked this show. Let’s start from the beginning.”

  “If this is some sort of chick—”

  “It’s not a chick show. Not really. There’s a lot of action. Just give it a try.”

  He sighed and leaned back against the couch, idly rubbing the top of his cast. “Fine. If it’s boring, though, we’re flipping back to sports.”

  Julie was ridiculously pleased with herself, but then she got nervous that Eric really wouldn’t like it.

  He began
a steady commentary of dry comments and critiques, but after a half hour, she decided they were mostly intended to get a reaction out of her or make her laugh.

  He was actually watching the show, and he didn’t object when she started the second episode immediately following the first.

  Julie had forgotten a lot of the details, so she was able to get lost in the story again—and it was even more enjoyable now that Eric was getting into it with her.

  They ended up watching four episodes back to back before they decided to call it a night. And Eric didn’t once ask for his phone to be returned.

  —

  The following evening, they watched four more episodes, and both of them had a good time. Julie knew Eric had enjoyed it too, even though he was still making sardonic comments. And the fact that he was liking the show made her like it even more.

  “Why do they always end on a cliff-hanger?” Eric asked, shaking his head as she started to switch back over to cable.

  She paused. “To keep you wanting to see the next one, of course. Do you want to watch another one?”

  Eric hesitated but then shook his head. “It’s late, and you look tired. Plus, there’s only so much of these crazy plots I can take.”

  She giggled. “You say that, but you’re really enjoying it. Don’t tell me that you’re not.”

  “I’m just humoring you,” he said with an adorable little twitch of his lips.

  “No, you’re not. You like the show.”

  “It’s okay. It’s interesting, anyway. I never really watched much television before, but it does hold your attention.”

  “I don’t get why you haven’t. There’s something really special about stories that are told for you. You get into other people’s lives in a way you’d never be able to otherwise.”

  Eric’s expression was almost fond, but he managed a derisive snort. “You’re not going to argue that the people on that show are anything like real people?”

  “Not in what happens to them, but in how they live it out. A story doesn’t have to be realistic to say something true about…about being human. That’s the best kind of history too. When we can really see the stories of other people unfold in the events. That’s the kind of history I want to teach…and write.” She cleared her throat, startled that she was talking about something so esoteric with Eric.

  The amusement had faded on his face. “Then you should do it.”

  She gave him a wobbly little smile, amazed that he’d understood, that he wasn’t making fun of her for her earnestness. “Maybe I will.”

  —

  The next morning, as Eric wheeled himself into the kitchen, he greeted her with the announcement that his daughter, Maddy, was coming to visit and staying until Sunday evening.

  “Really?” Julie said, completely surprised by this turn of events.

  “Yeah. I’m not able to spend as much time with her as I want, but I get the occasional weekend with her and some extra time in the summer.”

  “Okay. Great. Is her mom bringing her here?”

  “Yeah. She’s taking a beach weekend by herself.”

  Julie wouldn’t have been surprised if Eric was financing the mother’s beach weekend. At least it worked out for Maddy to visit. “Where does she live?”

  “Raleigh. They’re supposed to be here before lunch.”

  “Okay. Great.” Julie felt flustered, although there was no reason for her to feel that way. She just hadn’t expected the little girl to spend any time with Eric when Julie was around. “I can make sure a room is ready for her. What about the little room across from mine?”

  “Is it too small for her?”

  “It’s kind of small, but it’s really cute with that slanted ceiling and the pink quilt. Or I can move into that one, and she can take my room.”

  “No. She can have the little one. That will be fine.”

  Julie studied his face and realized he was genuinely excited about his daughter visiting. That fact made her really happy. “I’m looking forward to meeting her. What is she like?”

  “She’s smart and…brave, and way more mature than I am. She’s great. You’ll really like her.”

  She tried very hard to suppress the shiver of pleasure at the words and the fond look he was giving her. “I’m sure I will.”

  “She thinks you look nice.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She saw you when you picked me up from the hospital.”

  She could tell Eric meant this as a compliment, and she decided it was. Maybe she would rather a little girl think she was pretty, but there was no use expecting impossible things to happen.

  That was her. Nice.

  Nice was better than nothing.

  —

  That evening Julie, Eric, Tim, and Maddy sat around the patio table, looking at each other as they ate fresh-grilled trout, vegetables, and baked potatoes.

  Maddy was a very polite little girl, but she’d been quiet since she arrived. That afternoon she’d played in the pool while Eric had sat beside it. Julie had been worried that the girl was getting a little bored trying to play by herself, even though her dad tried to keep her amused, so she’d gotten in too. She and Maddy had taken turns jumping off the diving board, and they’d batted a big beach ball around, trying to keep it from touching the water. Julie had been relieved when the girl had started laughing, and she was satisfied that Maddy had had a good time.

  She hadn’t talked much, though. Julie wasn’t sure if it was because the girl was naturally quiet or because she was shy around someone she didn’t know.

  In an attempt to break the silence at dinner, Julie asked, “Maddy, what kinds of things do you like to do?”

  The girl gazed at her soberly. “Like to do where?”

  “Anywhere. If you could do anything, what would you do?”

  “Oh.” Maddy paused, obviously thinking as she chewed slowly on her carrot stick. “I like to read. And I like to watch movies. And I like football.”

  “Oh, really? Did your daddy teach you about football?” Julie’s eyes strayed over to Eric, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t really read.

  “Yes. He taught me.”

  “Do you like to play or just watch football?”

  “I usually just watch. I like to throw and kick the ball, but I don’t have anyone to play games with. Mostly the boys play.”

  “Can’t you play with the boys?”

  “Yes, but I don’t like to. They just laugh at me.” Her brown eyes—just like Eric’s—were perfectly sober, without a trace of outrage or unhappiness.

  “They shouldn’t be laughing at you,” Eric said, frowning as he thought about faceless little boys teasing his daughter.

  Maddy sighed. “That’s what boys do.”

  Julie chuckled. “They do, don’t they? Even big boys sometimes. Sometimes they laugh at you when they secretly like you.”

  “I don’t know.” Maddy picked up her milk and took several sips. When she put it down, she turned to her dad. “Do you laugh at girls you like, Daddy?”

  Eric’s eyes shot over to Julie’s, at exactly the same time hers moved to his. They shared a look loaded with significance.

  “Maybe,” he told his daughter.

  “Why? It might hurt their feelings.”

  “I’m not sure why boys do that,” Eric said, neatly sidestepping the real question. “I guess they’re worried the girl doesn’t like them back.”

  “Oh.” Maddy sighed again. “I don’t really like boys, especially when they laugh at me.”

  “Well, maybe you can teach me to throw a football,” Julie said, trying to get the topic back to something that didn’t make her feel so self-conscious. “I’ve never thrown one in my life.”

  “Really?” Maddy and Eric said at exactly the same time. Even Tim turned to stare at her, his lips parting slightly.

  Julie chuckled. “Really,” she admitted. “I didn’t mean to shock everyone.”

  “Daddy and I can teach you tomorr
ow.”

  —

  The next morning, instead of fishing, they all went down to the beach with a football, and Maddy and Eric taught Julie how to throw and catch.

  Julie hadn’t expected it to be a difficult skill, but the shape of the ball wasn’t one she was used to, so it took quite a while before she could get it going in a fashion that Eric and Maddy approved of.

  They ended up having a really good time. The day was crisp and sunny—a perfect June morning. Maddy was laughing and chatting more than she had the day before, and she seemed to really like instructing Julie on the nuances of holding the football the right way.

  Eric grumbled about being trapped in the chair, but he was smiling as Maddy and Julie ran around after the ball. And the morning passed quicker than Julie could have expected.

  On the way back to the house, Maddy walked beside her, rambling on about how she was going to be in a play at school, in the role as the mother, which was evidently one of the biggest parts.

  When the girl absently reached for her hand to hold it as they walked, Julie experienced the most ridiculous sense of pride and connection. Maddy liked her. And Julie liked Maddy. And all she’d had to do was be herself and give the girl a little attention.

  She wanted to make sure Eric had some time alone with Maddy, so after lunch Julie stayed upstairs while the others went down to the pool.

  She was having a good time reading on her own when a voice surprised her. “Julie?”

  Maddy stood before her, dripping onto the floor, wearing her swimsuit and wrapped in a towel.

  “Hi, Maddy. Is everything okay? Where’s your daddy?”

  “He had an important phone call.”

  Julie frowned. “Really?” Eric wasn’t supposed to be working at all. He shouldn’t be taking phone calls, especially with his daughter here.

  “I was tired of swimming anyway.”

  “Okay,” Julie said, clearing her face so the girl wouldn’t think she was unhappy. “Why don’t you run and change clothes, and we can watch something up here, if you’d like.”

  This was evidently exactly what Maddy wanted. She changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and she brought a big, fuzzy bathrobe with her to wrap up in on the couch, since her hair was still wet. Julie found an animated movie that Maddy liked, and they both settled back to watch it.