Page 37 of Signs and Signals

“Wow, Emerson, that’s a lot of applications. You have all the sports covered,” I laugh.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure I was available if an opportunity was waiting. What if I only applied for football and none of the teams needed a trainer, but baseball was in desperate need of them, I feel like that is a missed opportunity of my own doing,” Emerson replies.

Atlas and Silas halt their conversation about the plans for tomorrow at his buddies' house for the cookout, and he gently nudges my thigh. I turn to look at him and get a face full of curls. Haven is passed out, her head burrowed in his neck, the hand I can see is gripping the short sleeve of his shirt, it is the cutest thing.

“Want me to take her and put her in her bed?” I ask him, preparing to stand and take her from his arms.

“Nah, I got her. I don’t want her to wake and not see me, thinking I left without saying goodbye,” he whispers, as if he speaks too loudly, he will wake her.

“If you hold her the entire time, she is asleep, she will be grumpy when she wakes up, come on I will help you put her down in her room,” I tell him as I stand and head toward Haven’s room, he follows.

After Atlas left for the night, letting me know he will be over after practice tomorrow and we can head to his friend’s house for the cookout together, my siblings and I are at the dining room table just catching up.

Haven was exhausted, she ran and played with Silas and Atlas most of the day and was bathed, and in bed by eight-thirty. Amara said she wanted to be well rested for tomorrow, and went to bed about an hour ago.

It’s eleven p.m. and we are still talking. We talk about how Haven is settling in here, how work is going, if I am building my clientele, just life in general. I ask the girls how school isgoing, if Emerson is ready to be finished, and ask Silas how his cooking for all these big-time famous people is going, and just mundane things.

Silas tells us stories of things he has seen at some of the homes he cooks for. He never tells who it is, but we know they are famous. Asia tells me about the different music courses she gets to take, and Emerson said she is just ready to be done. All in all, it was a great night.

The house we are at for the cookout is beautiful. It has a wraparound porch, white siding, blue shutters that match the blue door, which you would think would be tacky, but it looks extremely homey, and warm. The house is gated, which goes completely around the property. There is so much greenery, flowers, and plants I have no clue what they are. They have a garden with vegetables which are doing great from what I can tell.

The backyard has a pool, hot tub, play set, sandbox, and about anything you can think of to do while spending time with friends and family.

The inside is stunning, with hardwood running through the entire house, area rugs and runners in various places. The kitchen would make a chef weep it’s gorgeous. I didn’t think Silas would leave the kitchen once he started checking things out.

“Who is your friend who owns this house? I don’t think you ever mentioned their name,” Silas asks Atlas. I think he is trying to network, even though the owner isn’t here.

“Oh, uh, one of my teammates owns it.” Atlas’s eyes are darting around to see where everyone is and who is nearby. When he sees it is just Silas and I in the room with him, he relaxes a little.

“His name is Zander. He is the pitcher for my team. He doesn’t like a lot of people knowing he owns this house, becausehe is currently sharing a condo with his best friend Bailey. He doesn’t stay here because he is saving it for when he has a family, his words not mine,” Atlas whispers, so no one else can overhear him.

“That’s sweet,” I coo.

“Do you think he will ever need a private chef? When he does get his family and moves in here, I mean. I would love to get my hands dirty in that kitchen,” Silas says dreamily.

Atlas laughs, “I will pass the message along, Si.”

How cute, my boyfriend gave my brother a nickname. Now that warms me from the inside out, I love that they are getting along so well. Atlas gets along well with all three of my siblings, which is great.

Everyone is having a great time, we eat, we swim, we all just hang out. We get everything cleaned up and packed into Atlas and Silas’s trucks, since they drove everyone over, and head back home.

Once we are back home, I get Haven ready for bed, my siblings and Amara are getting a movie set up, and Atlas had to head home because he has to be up early for training and practice.

As I am coming from Haven’s room, Emerson and Asia are standing in front of the bathroom door, heads together, whisper-arguing.

“What’s going on? Why are you arguing in front of the bathroom?” I joke.

“Can we talk to you, somewhere private?” Asia nervously asks.

We all go into my room and Emerson shuts the door behind her. They both look sad, nervous, and pissed off all at the same time, which is unusual.

“I want you to know we are here for you, okay?” Emerson starts as Asia grabs my hand and holds it.

“You are starting to worry me, what happened, is something wrong?” I question.

Then Emerson begins a long-winded speech about how guys suck, and there really aren’t any good ones left in the world, and she should probably start collecting cats now.

“Get to the point, Emerson,” I snap.

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