She narrows her eyes at me. “Yeah, maybe on second thought we shouldn’t do that again.” She giggles to let me know she’s just kidding, but it still pulses a thought inside me that was never there before.
Should I not have given two kids large fries?
I don’t know how kids eat. They wanted fries, so I got them fries. I guess logically, I know fries aren’t healthy, but I also know kids can be picky eaters, and I didn’t want to bring them back home to Cassie hungry.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t know anything at all about kids. It’s not just their eating habits—it’s everything.
I didn’t have baby cousins I took care of when I was little. Instead, I was the youngest.
I didn’t take up babysitting when I was an adolescent. I didn’t even read the popular books about babysitting when I was that age, instead opting for semi-age-appropriate books that introduced me to my love of romance.
I really didn’t even have many friends who had kids before me. I was busy between teaching and secretly publishing books, and I had a boyfriend. I didn’t make much space for friends who were in a totally different phase of life than me.
But standing here in this aisle with my potential future sister-in-law staring at me as I stand in front of a variety of different tests makes me realize how incredibly unprepared I am for any of this.
And I don’t even have the luxury of leaning on my boyfriend since he’s about to dig into a new season, and we’re going to have to spend time apart.
I suddenly feel a little lonely and a lot scared.
I think about confiding all this in Cassie, but ultimately, I realize her allegiance is to Tanner, not to me. She’s married to him now, and he’s a twin. Word will get back to Miller through some other source, and if I’m feeling these feelings, he should hear it from me.
I just don’t want to pile on top of him when he’s already going through his own stuff with the start of the season. I want to try to be there for him the best way I can, only…I have no idea what that looks like right now, either.
There’s just a lot of uncertainty in my life right now, and I guess all I can do is ride the wave until things settle down.
I just don’t know when that will be.
It’s not in the next few days, that’s for sure.
Training camp is here in San Diego. The team uses the stadium for practice, but the first week is meant for team bonding, so barring emergencies, players are asked to stay at the team hotel for the first two weeks of training camp.
Then they return home, and they start regular practices that aren’t quite as intense as those first two weeks of camp. That’s also when preseason games begin andthe roster is finalized.
It’ll be an intense couple of weeks for Miller and the rest of his teammates, and I already sense a bit of a change in him as he packs his bags the Sunday night before camp is set to start.
I’m sitting on the bed in his room while he works. I’ve asked if there’s anything I can do, and his request was just to sit with him while he does what he needs to do.
It’s like he wants us to spend every last moment together that we can before this shift in our relationship.
“I’ll try to call you every day, but things get pretty intense,” he says.
I nod as I try to be as understanding as possible. I can’t imagine a job that’s so intense that I can’t make time for a one-minute phone call, but I let it go.
“If you remember, drag the black trash to the curb on Mondays. Organic is collected on Tuesdays, and recycling is every other Wednesday,” he reminds me.
I nod. “Anything else around the house you want me to take care of?”
He shakes his head. “The pool pretty much takes care of itself, but my guy is scheduled for the first week of next month for monthly maintenance. The landscapers will be here on Thursday as usual, and I called a house cleaner one of my teammates recommended to come in weekly on Thursday mornings so it’s all done at the same time.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I can clean.” My protest is weak since—let’s be honest—having someone clean the house sounds like a dream.
“I know, but I want you to have that time for writing.”
I press my lips together and tilt my head. “That’s really sweet of you. Thank you.”
He nods without looking up from his pile of clothes. He counts everything out, and then he mutters, “Fuck it,” as if he’snot really all that worried about what he’s packing. I’m sure they have laundry access anyway since they’re gone two weeks.
He sits beside me, and he sighs. “This is weird. I’ve never had to leave you as my…whatever this is…when I’m starting a new season.”