Page 4 of Theirs

I turned around to see an old teammate who had retired six years before I had.

“Gomez, hey, how is it going?” I smiled as we hugged. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, I was sorry to hear you had to retire,” he said, frowning.

“It happens, part of the game, right?” I shrugged. “What brings you here?”

“My son was drafted this year,” he said proudly.

“Wow! That's amazing,” I said. “You must be pretty proud.”

“Yeah, my twins are quite the athletes. One in the NFL and one in the AHL.” He beamed.

“Twins?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well Irish twins,” he chuckled. “Nine months apart, so pretty dang close.”

“That’s awesome man, I’d be proud too,” I said.

“Yeah, well I just wanted to say hi and I’ll let my son know if he needs any meals to come to you,” he said. “The guys say your cooking is amazing and you make good stuff that doesn’t feel like the same chicken and rice crap that they eat.”

“Keeps me close to the game and you know I love to cook,” I said, feeling good that the players talked about my food.

“Yeah, I remember a few meals you made for some of the players and me,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m glad you found something to do, most players have a hard time recovering after an injury.”

“It helps that I have a good support system,” I said.

“Yeah, it does. Well, I’ll let you go, but I’ll be in Denver. We should have a drink sometime,” he clapped my shoulder.

“Yeah, I still have the same number. Let me know,” I said, waving at him as he headed on his way out.

After making my deliveries, I talked to a few of the coaches and the nutritionist, Jeff. We talked about some changes I needed to make for a few players and I took notes, already mentally thinking of what I could change. As I left, I knew it would be best to call Vincent and see if he could offer me any insight, but I felt embarrassed. I was a thirty-four-year-old man who had a hard time talking about what I wanted. Years of being told I would take over the farm since I was the oldest son, and that it was my duty to the family, left me with some old habits.

Before I lost my nerve I dialed Vincent's number. The phone rang and I resisted the urge to hang up.

“Luke, it's been too long,” Vincent answered the phone.

“I know, I have been meaning to catch up with you since you are now a Denver resident,” I said, walking to my truck.

“It’s been busy coming back to Denver, moving and getting the company together,” he said.

“Please, we know you had nothing to do with moving,” I laughed.

“Fine, but I have been busy with work,” he laughed. “We should get some dinner sometime?”

“You free tonight?” I asked, thinking it might be better to talk in person since Camy would be out with a client.

“I can’t. I’m meeting my friend Genevieve tonight at one of the classes she teaches,” he said.

“A class? What class could you possibly go to?” I got into my car and started it up.

“It’s actually a class to help women find their inner dominatrix,” he said, like he was talking about the weather. “I’ve missed the Denver scene and I always enjoyed her classes and it is a great place to meet potential subs. She teaches a variety of classes.”

“Did you say she teaches how to be a dominatrix?”

What are the fucking odds that I called him for advice, and he talked about a class that might peak Camila’s interest.

“Yeah, it's to teach women to be more confident in bed when their men love to be submissive,” he said, sounding like he was moving around.

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