Page 9 of Love Never Happens with your Brother’s Best Friend

“Thank you, and have a great day, Mr Weston,” says Kate. I just smile and nod.

Mr Weston turns to leave when his head swivels in a double-take in the direction of Dylan and Brodie’s table in the corner. He stops and opens his mouth to ask something but changes his mind. I assume he has just recognized the notorious football star but decides to play it cool and doesn’t say, “Hey, is that Brodie Kent?” Instead, Mr Weston taps the side of his nose furtively, the way some people do when they are in on a secret. Then he nods and leaves.

Dylan and Brodie finish their burgers and push their plates away. They laugh and chat. I watch them as I clean the coffee machine and hear snippets of their conversation. It makes me smile to see that they haven’t changed one bit. I wipe down the counter then step into the back kitchen to see what needs prepping.

Kate is checking her phone again.

“You are impossible.” I mock-scold my friend. “Put that thing down.”

“Oh my! Rita, did you see this?”

“See what?” I laugh. “You know I don’t bother with that news-frenzy stuff.”

“This story about Brodie,” Kate says, her brow furrowed with concern. “Says he got the senator’s daughter pregnant. The Bullets’ PR guy is denying all allegations. Says there’s going to be an inquiry.”

I read the headlines on Kate’s phone. Football star struck off amid daddy claims. Kent caught with senator’s girl. Wedding bells or the knell of doom for heartbreaker football star? Brodie Kent is an alien from outer space – eyewitness account.

I brush off the alarming news and say nonchalantly, “It’s probably all made up… a publicity stunt or something. Fake news. This happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

But as I say this, I figure, so that’s why Brodie Kent is back in Oak River. He’s avoiding the news storm around a scandal. The shocking details don’t surprise me, but I can’t help feeling disappointed. Let down by his bad behavior. I don’t know why. Brodie isn’t anything more to me than my brother’s school friend. We were just kids when we kissed, so that doesn’t count. And anyway, a kiss is not a contract. It was nothing, so I don’t know why the images of him on Kate’s screen are affecting me in this way. Emotions race around inside as if I’m a person-sized snow globe and Brodie Kent has given me a mighty good shake.

I load some dishes into the dishwasher hoping that the activity of mundane kitchen chores will block out memories of Brodie. That guy in the café having lunch with my brother is someone I used to know. But he is a big star football player now and not the teenager who left town years ago.

Brodie was offered an opportunity of a lifetime. And he took it. No one can begrudge him for that. He left Oak River to chase his dream and is living his life the way he wants. And I am living mine.

This news story is just another reason why I need to keep my distance from the superstar quarterback who I thought was only a teenage memory. But having him here, in the café, in true life, flesh and blood, is stirring those suppressed teenage feelings. I need to be on my guard and protect my stupid heart.

My snow-globe jitters eventually settle and thankfully, a group of people come into the café. A welcome distraction from my churning insides. I go out to greet them and invite them to take a seat at a table. It’s the start of the lunch crowd. Things are going to get busy; too busy to think about Brodie Kent being back here.

Dylan and Brodie stand to leave. They wave at me as they head for the door.

“Hey,” says one of the customers at the table. “Isn’t that Brodie Kent? Sorry to bother you, sir. But are you Brodie Kent?”

Brodie stops and smiles at the guy who is obviously a fan. “Yep. That’s me.”

“Could we get a picture with you? Would that be okay, sir?”

Brodie looks uncomfortable for a minute, then says, “Usually, it wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

The two men and two women look at each other. Smiles turn to frowns of confusion.

“Oh, that’s okay,” says one of the women. “We understand. You need your privacy.” She nods and smiles at her friends. “Maybe you could sign my serviette?” The woman fishes around in her bag for a pen. “Just so I know this hasn’t all been a dream.”

Brodie laughs. “Sure. No problem there. I’d be happy to.”

He accepts the pen from the woman and writes a message on her folded paper serviette.

“There you go,” Brodie says shyly. “And please. I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone that you’ve seen me. I’m having some time out.”

“Sure thing, Mr Kent. We understand.”

The people at the table all stand up to shake Brodie’s hand. Then Brodie heads for the door.

Before he steps out onto the sidewalk he shouts out, “Thanks, Kate.” Then he looks directly at me and says quietly, “Thanks, Rita. It’s great to see you. Really.”

I avoid his gaze and focus my attention on the customers who are all still mesmerized by their idol. Outside, Brodie puts on his sunglasses and cap, pulling it down over his eyes like a shady character's disguise.

Dylan follows Brodie out, but he catches me on my way over to the starstruck table to take their order.

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