Page 121 of Crossing Lines

“Really,” Nina says, kissing me on my cheek. “I’d look amazing in some waders and rubber boots.”

“What kind of fishing are you thinking about?” I laugh. “That’s what you’d wear for fly-fishing.”

“Oh, well, even better. I look amazing in a bikini.”

“Now that, I can testify to.”

Our gazes connect, a soft smile blooming on both of our faces. One that’s filled with warmth, contentment, and a shared understanding that runs deeper than words. I lean in, my lips brushing softly across her. I’m lost in her gaze when my phone buzzes.

I glance at it and frown. “It’s my mom.” I press the green video button and say, “Annem? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry to call so early, but I knew you’d be up by now.”

Even if it’s before seven a.m., she’s still dressed and ready for the day.

“Is Nina with you?” she asks.

Nina grabs my phone and pans the video to her. “Hi, how are you?”

“I’ll be better once you both accept my invitation to come to Miami for a party I’m having.”

“And what’s the occasion?” I ask.

“Does there need to be an occasion to have a party?” Mom asks, surprised.

“I like your style.” Nina laughs. “When’s the party?”

“The second week of August. Can you come?”

“We’ll be there,” Nina says easily, as if we aren’t busy and need to check the actual date. As if we’re not planning something in the future, months from now, to do together. “And maybe you can come for the first game of the season in September.”

I give Nina a long look. Surely she doesn’t know that Mom hasn’t once made it to one of the games. It’s hurt that she hasn’t come, but I always told myself that she was settling into a new country and city, just like me, and needed time.

“Oh…” Mom says. “I…”

“Will come,” Nina insists. “It’ll be fun. Do you know much about football?”

“Not at all,” Mom says.

“It’s fun to watch, and it’d mean a lot to us if you joined.”

“It would?” Mom asks, and shoots me a look. “I didn’t think you cared about the game, or even liked it.”

“Wait… Is that why you never came before?” I ask.

“Yes, I thought you bought the team because you were having a midlife crisis but that you’d get bored with it after a few months.”

Nina stifles a laugh behind her hand at the wordsmidlife crisis, and I shoot her a glare. She mimes zipping her lips, but she can’t keep the smileoff her face.

“I care about the team and the game,” I say. “And I’d love for you to come.”

“If that’s the case,” Mom says, “let me know the exact date and I’ll be there.”

“All right,” I say. “We need to get going, but talk later?”

“Of course, love you.”

“Love you, too,” I say, hanging up. I turn to Nina and ask, “How did you know?”

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