Page 52 of The Progressions

“I’m ready,” she quickly concurred.

“No, you don’t have to come with us,” I told her. “Please tell Tyler how great he was, ok? Thank you.”

“Kasia, are you sure I can’t do anything?” she asked me, and I nodded and quickly pushed his chair toward the exit. There were so many people in our way but security stepped in to help, and soon enough, we were back in the parking lot.

“Do you need something to eat? Water?” I asked. I had put stuff in my car, just in case. The concession prices at the stadiumwere out of control, but he’d eaten before we’d left. Had it been enough? Probably not, I chided myself.

“I’m ok now. I’m sorry,” he said. He leaned back against the seat and looked exhausted.

“Don’t be sorry! I wish you’d told me earlier, though.” We drove on the nearly empty road toward the main gate and I tried not to let him catch me looking over as I checked on him. “I’m kind of glad to leave, anyway. It was so loud in there.”

“Kasia…” He shook his head. “Don’t tell stories.”

“It was really loud,” I answered, because that had been the true part.

We drove the rest of the way home listening to Herb and Buzz on the radio, and the game only got more exciting. They were hoarse with yelling and finally Buzz called out, “That’s it! That’s quadruple zeros on the clock, and count this as another Woodsmen win! Golly gee, we’re jumping for joy in the booth!” I silently pumped my fist but my dad didn’t hear, because he had already fallen asleep.

I helped him into the house and worked in the garden and on the gutters again, since I hadn’t yet figured out how to fix those. I texted Tyler, too, but I didn’t expect to get a response. He was busy, probably getting interviewed by any number of reporters and then, hopefully, making better friends with his teammates. I paused, my gloved hand full of slimy leaves, as I thought about other ways to encourage that.

What about a party? I hadn’t ever been good at making friends myself, but I was aware that people liked to have fun with foodand alcohol. I considered the idea. A party at his condo might have been hard, with Iva already there and baby Balderston moving in permanently on Monday. Babies seemed like the opposite of fun, but maybe I wasn’t giving him enough credit. Anyway, Iva wouldn’t like all the people and their germs, and Tyler didn’t drink, anyway.

What about a dinner instead? He could invite some of the guys on the offense to go out next week, since it was a bye with no game scheduled. If he was interested, I could send him a list of possible restaurants since I had slightly more knowledge than he did of places to go around here. Not much more, but I could think of things.

I scooped leaves more enthusiastically and then swung the hammer with a lot of happy force before I realized that my dad was resting, and now was not the time for noise. I did quieter activities as I checked my phone a lot, and Miss Gail did send some very nice pictures of my dad and me grinning widely in our Hennessy jerseys. She also checked in to see how he was feeling, and asked if we needed anything. But we were ok, I assured her. I had just expected too much, and I was sorry that we’d left her alone.

I finally heard from Tyler much later, when I’d already gotten into my bed and was nearly asleep. “I’m on my way,” he wrote.

“Where?” I answered.

“Bless your heart. 5 min.”

“Hey!” I said back to that, and I got out of bed to walk to the window and watch for lights. Not a lot happened on this road…there he was, meandering carefully over the potholes.

“What is this car?” I whispered as I walked outside and saw the dark SUV.

“I traded in the yellow one for blue,” Tyler said. “Somebody claimed I drove the yellow one to get attention, but no one can say that about navy.”

“It’s nice, but you didn’t have to get a new car just because I was wrong about you needing the spotlight.”

“I was tired of people pointing at me,” he said, and I didn’t want to tell him that it would continue no matter what he was driving, unless the vehicle had a cloaking device. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“I was almost asleep,” I said, and we both looked down at my sweatpants, the bright pink dimmed in the moonlight and not quite as clashing with the Woodsmen orange t-shirt that I also wore.

“You don’t dress up,” he said and it sounded like an insult, except he was smiling.

“Not too much,” I admitted. I’d been wearing my best outfit so often that it was starting to pill from multiple cycles in the dryer. Maybe I didn’t need that skirt, shirt, and matching vest to look good, though. Shay Galton accomplished a lot with her wardrobe choices but she also used amazing body language, and why couldn’t I? I adjusted myself into one of the poses that I’dcopied from her posts, putting my breasts forward, twisting my pelvis to a somewhat painful angle, and puffing out my lips.

Tyler noticed, but he didn’t have the reaction he would have if Shay Galton herself had been there. “What are you doing? It looks like your hip is dislocated. I saw that happen once in college, and it was a bad injury.”

“My hip is fine.” I used it to walk towards the house. “Are you coming in?”

“Sure.” He walked as quietly as I did and then pointed at my bed, which was pulled out and took up most of the living room/dining room/kitchen. “I guess I did wake you up,” he said.

“No, but it’s late. I don’t know why you’re driving around after a game…what are you doing right now?”

He was getting into my bed, settling on top of the covers. It creaked in a way that sounded dire, but it held. “This mattress fucking sucks,” he noted in a low voice. “It’s like lying on a thin layer of rocks.”

“It’s pretty bad,” I agreed. “There’s no room for an actual bed in here, but it never bothered me too much.” I lay next to him, and the mattress had never felt so bumpy or so small. It also felt fun, having him here with his arms linked behind his head and his feet hanging off the end by a foot or so.

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