Page 14 of Tackle

“A sister.”

“Older or younger?”

“Both are older. I’m the baby.”

That had her pausing. “That reminds me. You never told me what happened with your sister. Did you call her?”

Oz had. He remembered how nervous he’d been, picking up the phone to make the call. The conversation had gone nothing like he’d expected. Instead of taking advantage of the situation to find out everything she could about him, Nora had talked his ear off, telling him all about herself. If her goal was to be deceitful, she hid it well behind her open book.

Oz nodded. “Yeah.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, I’m curious, how did she find out about you after so many years?”

Oz’s jaw hardened, “My dad died.”

She reached out, touching his forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be, I’m not. He left when I was young and never looked back.”

Oz had put that part of his past behind him. Though hard at times, he had a great mom who loved him, and he’d convinced himself that was enough. He’d learned to put his anger aside, by hardening his heart and telling himself he was better off. That any father who was capable of ditching his son wasn’t one he wanted. Even with the news of his sister that hadn’t changed. He wasn't that bereft child anymore and a father had become more of a concept than a reality he needed.

“Anyway,” he continued, “Nora was away at college when it happened. She took some time off to help her mom through it. I guess while sorting his things, she came across the divorce papers for him and my mother. The way she tells it, she never even knew he’d been married before. After doing a bunch of digging on the internet, she discovered my name. Tracked down the address for my management company and reached out.”

“So what’s the next step? Are you going to meet her?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far yet. I’d like to, eventually, but I need to tell my mom first. That’s not the kind of news I want to give her over the phone, you know?” At her nod, he continued, “My dad’s a subject we never talk about, so I don’t know how she feels, but I’m worried it’s gonna be a blow.”

Emerson nodded but remained silent. He knew the feeling. What did one say to that? His dad had left him and his mom to start a new family. It didn’t get more fucked up than that.

Shaking his head, Oz chuckled humorlessly. “This was not the conversation I’d envisioned for our first date. Kind of a mood killer.”

Emerson was quick to apologize. “It was my fault for bringing it up, but I’m here if you ever want to talk about it some more.” She reached for his arm again but he intercepted her hand, enfolding it in his.

A loud buzz filled the silence of the room.

Mentally changing gears, Oz reached for his wallet. “Pizza’s here.”

“Oz…” Something played behind Emerson’s eyes. Not pity, but something close. Compassion, maybe?

He forced a smile. He wouldn’t let talk of his father ruin their first date. “I’ll be right back.” Hopefully pizza and a movie would be enough of a distraction and they could move on from talk of his past.

He buzzed the delivery guy in and then waited for the knock before opening the door.

“One pepperoni with extra—” The guy glanced up from the receipt, mouth falling open. “Holy shit! You’re Oz Olson.”

Even after years of recognition, the interacting part of fame never got less awkward for him. "Yep. That’s me.” Oz mentally rolled his eyes. God, he could be such a dork sometimes.

“Great game today. Bummed I wasn’t able to watch because I was working, but I listened to it when I could. Three sacks in one game. Man, you’re a rock star.” He paused to take a quick breath before continuing, “Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m meeting Oz Olson in the flesh! The guys at school tomorrow are never gonna believe me. Oh, wait!” He shoved the pizza at Oz then reached into his back pocket. “Can I get a picture with you? That will prove you’re real.” He chuckled. “I mean that me meeting you is real. Of course,you’rereal.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the only dork in the room. Oz felt for the guy. He’d had many blathering dialogues just like that, too many to count. “Sure,” he mumbled. “Let me go put this down.”

He turned to find Emerson standing off to his side. “I’ll take it.” She reached for the box.

His lips twisted into a half smile. “Thanks. This will only take another minute.”

The pizza guy had his camera up and ready by the time Oz got back to him. Oz put his arm around the guy’s shoulders and he snapped the picture.

“This is great. Thanks,” the kid said, admiring it. “Hey, can I ask one last favor?”

---