“We are all a lot older than her, and I know that doesn’t help,” he said as the server delivered our cocktails.
“Wow, that's a lot of testosterone.” Genevieve took a sip of her drink.
“It’s a lot,” I said, licking off the salt of my margarita and taking a sip.
Genevieve studied me for a moment, the heat in her eyes was a dead giveaway to what she was thinking about.
“What about you Camila? Where is your family?” she asked.
“Mostly in Dallas. One of my sisters is here, but most of my family haven't left and I don’t see them leaving anytime soon,” Isaid, licking my lips. “Most of my siblings are there with all their kids and my parents wouldn’t leave them.”
“Have you ever thought about going back to Texas?”
“No,” Luke and I said at the same time.
“Not even when you were wanting children?” Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, that is none of my business.”
“It’s ok, you're curious and I did mention trying for a family, but I don’t know if I’d want to be around family if we had kids,” I sighed. “They complicate things and seeing the way my mother acts with my sisters and their kids, I know we would be butting heads all the time.”
Luke grabbed my hand, smiling at me.
“If you had kids?” Genevieve looked at our hands.
“We aren’t sure if we want them anymore,” Luke said, and I was grateful he responded. “We were so wrapped up in what we thought we had to do, instead of asking ourselves what we wanted to do.”
“I don’t want to bring a child into this world where we are barely surviving,” I said, looking down. “Ifwe have kids, I want Luke and I to be alright. I want to do it for us, not because people like my family expect me to.”
“If you don’t want them that's ok,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“Like you said, family sucks sometimes,” I said, getting a little emotional at her support. “What about you? Do you have any more siblings?”
“Nope, it’s just Cheryl and me. It’s been like that for a while,” she said, looking down at her cocktail. “We know a thing or two about shitty families and unfortunately have no contact with our mother.”
“Moms are hard to get along with sometimes,” I said, squeezing her hand because it felt like she needed support.
“They are, but enough about crappy families, how are your dresses going?” Genevieve squeezed my hand back.
I went on and on about work, and my latest projects. The conversation flowed till our food came and even then, we kept talking effortlessly. Genevieve looked relaxed, laughing at all of Luke’s bad dad jokes while touching us periodically. It felt natural, almost as if she had been with us for years instead of weeks.
“I don’t know how you can be hit like that and still get up,” Genevieve said, leaning back into her chair.
“After a while you get used to it, and then it's just a part of the game,” Luke said, grabbing the last roll and popping it into his mouth.
“It was awful at first, watching him get sacked,” I said, wiping my mouth. “I think I got my first gray hairs watching his games.”
“I’d be worried all the time,” Genevieve said. “Good thing you don’t play anymore.”
I almost flinched when she finished her sentence. It wasn’t a good thing and he accepted his fate, but it sometimes still stung. Luke nodded, staring at our empty plates.
“Shit, I’m sorry Luke, I didn’t?—”
“It’s fine,” he said immediately. “I wasn’t ready to retire, and I hated that it wasn’t on my own terms, but playing does things to your body that I wasn’t ready to admit it. It is a good thing.”
I grabbed his hand, knowing he hated talking about it and feeling vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” Genevieve said, looking guilty.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, grabbing her hand. “It would have been nice to have you in the stands cheering for me, but I’ll just have to find other ways to impress you darlin’.”