Page 81 of Matched By My Rival
What could I say to that? I suspected she was trying to be practical. She didn’t think sheshouldwork long hours in a competitive field with a child to raise. But that didn’t mean that in her heart, she didn’t long to be a chef. I would help her, though. Grandma and Grandpa would too. Same as they’d done for me.
“I just want her to know I’ll support her in whatever she wants to do.”
“Good,” Grandma said, as if that was the end of the conversation. “But that’s not why I called.”
“No?”
I shifted forward in line at the rec center coffee stand. It was still four deep, but I’d have to wrap this call up soon.
Despite showing me up at Frisbee—and really, I should have known, because Parkeralwaysshows me up—he’d offered to meet me at the library to study with me. The least I could do was bring coffee.
“No,” Grandma said. “I wanted to tell you Grandpa and I are coming up for Parents Weekend!”
My heart leapt. “What? Why? Grandma, you remember I’m not in football anymore. I won’t be playing.”
They’d supported me by attending in past years. But I hadn’t expected them to come up this year. There was nothing to see.
“Simon, honey, you know we love you. Football has nothing to do with it.”
“I know, but I won’t be playing, so there’s no reason for you to come all that way.”
“Of course there is.” She sounded indignant. “We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and that wasn’t a happy time for you. You’ve sounded better these past few weeks. Your emails have been more upbeat.”
I edged forward in the coffee line. “I guess I’ve been adjusting.”
“As you should. It’s heart-breaking, of course, but you have a whole life ahead of you.”
A life without football.
Though, perhaps, a life of athletics still awaited. Perhaps I could channel my passion into other aspects of sports. Or even football. With my degree in sports management, I was bound to work with athletic programs in some capacity.
“You’re right, Grandma. Playing football was never going to be forever.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You were better than that Hanson kid that got drafted.” She sniffed.
I laughed. That was not even remotely true, but that was Grandma. Supportive, even if it meant deluding herself.
“It’s nice you want to see me, Grandma, but—”
“No buts, no sir,” she said sternly. “We’re coming up. And now that you don’t play football, you can show us the frat. Your father went there too, and we’d love to see it.”
Thefrat?Oh, hell no. “It’s not really suitable for—”
“We want to see it, Simon. We want to know about your life!”
“Okay…”
“And I especially hope to see you smile again, dear. It’s been too long. We’ll be there by Saturday afternoon. Love you, honey! Bye!”
Like a tornado, she leveled me and then was gone. I re-pocketed my phone and stepped up to the counter in a daze. “A caramel macchiato and an Americano with an extra shot. Thanks.”
I watched the barista make the drinks and handed over my credit card. The whole time my head circulated one question. How can I make our frat house—our beer-stained and condom-strewn frat house—ready for a visit from mygrandparents?And on the weekend right after a party too?
I fired off a text to Cooper, hoping he knew what to do. I’d have to get the guys to help me in an emergency cleaning session, and no one would be better at getting them to rally than Coop.
Otherwise, I’d never be able to show my face to my grandparents again.
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