Page 14 of It's Always Sonny

My stomach hurts from laughing, and Gabe is similarly clutching his side as he slaps his steering wheel. When our car reaches the order window, Gabe and I are both breathless. The girl on the other side of the microphone sounds worried.

“Y’all okay in there?”

We wheeze hysterically, but no sound comes out.

“Oh my gosh, y’all, do I need to call 911? Someone run out to the car in the drive-thru!”

And that’s how a picture of me crying goes viral on social media later that day: laughing to the point of tears at my Nonna being put on the No Fly List.

Chapter Six

Sonny

Later that day, I make some calls and pay for all of Carlos’s medical bills. I also set up a college savings plan for him. No matter what happens with basketball, nothing should keep him from the college of his choice, and now, nothing will.

I have my assistant send an anonymous note to his mother. She’ll know it was me, but she won’t have proof, which means she hopefully won’t take it to the media. While I have my assistant on the phone, I task her with finding a place to relocate Nonna’s birthday party so it fits all of Nonna’s requirements:

-Must be within driving distance

-Must be beautiful

-Must have excellent food

-Must have space for a million kids, grandkids, and great grandkids

-Must be available a week from Saturday

She finds a place within an hour.

It’s closed for bookings the week we need, but my assistant says that I have some contacts that could help. When I see the name of the place, I can’t help but laugh.

I call my good friend and quarterback, Duke Ogden. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, Sonny. How’s the knee?”

“Rehabbing,” I tell him. “Doc says I should be off crutches next week. How was the honeymoon?”

“There are no words,” he says, sounding blissfully content. “I’m coming up to Columbia next week. Why don’t I stop by and tell you about it?”

“Actually, I was thinking of coming to Sugar Maple tomorrow. You around?”

“Sure am. Swing by the house for lunch. Millie and Lottie will be glad to see you.”

“Cool. See you then.”

After we hang up, my chest constricts. I have no need to go by tomorrow. I could trust my assistant, tell my family, and book the place now.

But someone else lives in Sugar Maple. Someone I wouldn’t be mad to bump into tomorrow. Someone who stirs up something buried deep in my soul every time I see her scowl.

Parker Jane.

I step out onto my back porch and gaze out at Lake Marion. I live an hour away from the stadium—twenty-seven minutes from Sugar Maple.

Twenty-seven minutes from Parker Jane.

What are the odds?

I bought this place right after signing my contract with the Waves because it’s big enough for my family to stay when they come into town. My brothers thought I was crazy to buy something like this when the Waves only signed me for three years with an option to trade after one. It was an impulsive decision, as most of my decisions are, but after years of navigating so many new situations with nothing but my gut, I’ve learned to trust it. When my realtor showed me the place for rent next door, I spotted this one for sale from the neighbor’s dock and something clicked. The second I walked into the house, I knew I wanted it. But I didn’t offer until the tour was over and my realtor checked the price. I could afford it fifty times over.

Yes, it was an impulsive decision, but it wasn’t a stupid one.

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