Page 47 of Waiting for Friday Night

“Thank you for coming by.” She said the first words that popped into her head.

“No need to thank me.”

Shania grinned. “Do you want to watch the University of Michigan game?” Shania asked.

Quinton frowned. “Why Michigan? I thought you’d want to watch Georgia.”

She shrugged. “We can switch to that one, too, but Michigan has a female graduate assistant coach. I started following them, too.”

“I heard about that. Yeah, we can watch the game. Whatever you want to do.”

Halle stepped forward. “I was thinking we could talk. Maybe discuss how this all works out and the ground rules.” This was their first official meeting as a family. They should lay out some rules.

Shania groaned and shook her head. “Mom, come on. Let’s just hang out. We’ve got time for that. Besides, the game is about to come on.”

Halle wanted to argue. She didn’t want Quinton here just hanging out. That made him more like family, and he wasn’t family. Not really. Not if she was establishing boundaries. Boundaries required a game plan and rules for how all of this would work.

She met Quinton’s eyes. His expression was neutral, yet she felt the judgment. The she can’t go with the flow and let things happen. She looked to Shania, whose eyes pleaded with her not to be Principal Mom as she sometimes called her.

Sighing, Halle nodded. “Fine, we can talk after the game.”

Fifteen

Why were college football games so damn long? The thought went through Halle’s mind for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Shania and Quinton didn’t seem to mind. They were having a ball discussing the plays on the field and debating if the right calls were made. The two of them laughed, cheered and groaned together. Halle knew enough about football to get the gist of the game: the team with the ball had four times to move the football ten yards. But when Shania or Quinton talked about a blitz or an I formation, she was lost.

The get-to-know-you meeting she’d planned was not happening the way she wanted. She’d imagined them sitting down and talking. To maybe order food. Discuss visitation schedules and the rules to follow when Shania was with him. Watching the two of them cheer and grin and bond over football, she realized her vision was not going to happen.

“Mom, can you get some more chips?” Shania held up the empty green plastic bowl that had once held an entire bag of potato chips.

Halle looked away from the television to the empty bowl in Shania’s hand. “Why can’t you get more?”

“Because this game is good. I don’t want to miss a play.”

Sighing, Halle stood and grabbed the bowl. Quinton reached for the bowl at the same time. “I can get the chips.”

Halle pulled the bowl out of his reach. “No, you’re a guest. I’ve got it.”

“You sure?”

She gave him a tight smile. “I’m sure.”

She turned and went into the kitchen. She grabbed the bag of chips off the counter and poured the remainder of them into the bowl. Was this how things were going to be? She’d be the third wheel when they were together. She was happy that Shania and Quinton got along. She could have found her biological father and he could have turned out to be a jerk. Halle just wasn’t used to being left out when it came to Shania. She was trying not to feel like she was being pushed out in her own house.

“Hey, where do you keep the sodas?” Quinton’s voice came from the door of the kitchen.

Halle straightened and tried to smile. She hoped her earlier thoughts hadn’t shown on her face. “Why didn’t you ask me? I’d bring it.”

He came farther into the kitchen. “I don’t mind getting things for myself.”

“What about potentially missing a great play?”

The corner of his lips lifted. Not quite a smile but she’d noticed it was how he expressed amusement. “Shania’s phone rang and she had to run to her room and take the call.”

Halle tilted her head to the side. “Wait, she said she couldn’t miss a play for chips, but the phone is another story?”

Quinton shrugged his wide shoulders. “I guess whoever was on the other side is more important.”

She shook her head. “Kids.” She pointed to the fridge. “I’ve got soda in the bottom drawer.”

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