Page 68 of The Story of Us
“He doesn’t care,” Callum said as they passed the fifty-metre line.
Nate stopped, unable to not give this moment with Callum his full attention. Not that he hadn’t been paying attention, because he had, stockpiling everything the teenager said so he could revisit it later, try to find a way to help, but this was a big fucking deal. It wasn’t so long ago—okay, it was almost fifteen years ago now, but whatever, the memory was so visceral it could’ve been yesterday—that Nate had been in a similar position.
Luckily, his parents had known the right question to ask, gifting Nate one of the best learning moments they could’ve ever bestowed upon him. And this was his opportunity to pay it forward. Callum waited, eyebrows raised, arms crossed defiantly.
“Are you going to tell me that my dad only wants what’s best for me?”
Nate pushed his wet hair off his face. “Forget about your dad. He doesn’t matter. Not right now. This is about knowing yourself. Knowing what you want. Who you want to be. And it’s okay if you don’t know the answers to those questions. Or if they make you uncomfortable. I sure as hell didn’t know who I was at your age or what I wanted my future to look like. The best advice I can give you, or anyone else, is to start thinking about it now but to remember it’s okay to change your mind. To try different things. Take chances. Stand up for yourself. You’re the one who has to live with your choices.” The rain picked up, and there was a crack of thunder in the distance.
“Dude. That was intense,” Callum said with a puff of laughter at the end.
“I mean it, though. You can’t live your life for other people. Learning when to say yes or no is something everyone has to do. And you’re going to hate this, and you should know it makes me feel ten thousand years old to even say it, but you’re so young. You don’t have to make these decisions right now. Just start thinking about them.”
Callum’s dad’s truck pulled into the car park, rolling to a stop next to Nate’s. They trudged up the stairs, back under the cover of the pavilion. Rain continued to thrum against the tin roof.
“Why’d you really leave the NFL?” Callum asked, picking up his gym bag.
This was another question Nate had answered a million times. Normally, he said what people expected to hear. The toll on his body had been too much. He wasn’t prepared to risk his future for a few more years, more money he didn’t need. “Because it didn’t make me happy anymore. I wanted more.”
“More what?”
“More for me.”
“Did you find it?”
“I’m still working on it,” Nate replied, a hint of warmth ghosting over his rain-chilled skin as he thought about his life here. The extra time with his family. Feeling like he fit in. Eloise. He’d bet she was sitting at the island bench, her laptop in front of her, typing furiously on one of the fifteen documents it seemed like she was always working on. Dinner would be bubbling on the stove—soup or something cosy and comforting. She always seemed to incorporate the bread he baked into her dishes.
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the dark sky.
“Thanks for tonight,” Callum said when his father honked his horn, hurrying him along.
Nate reached into his gym bag and pulled out one of the business cards he barely ever gave out. “This is my number. You can call me any time you want to talk, okay? And if you want, I’m happy to talk to your dad, too.”
After Callum had left, Nate settled into his car, started the engine and twisted the heater to the highest setting. Warm air swept across his body and Nate relaxed against the seat.
Time to go home and let himself have a little more of what he wanted.
* * *
“What are you doing here?You’re not supposed to drive in the rain.” Eloise ushered Joanie inside and helped her out of her raincoat before stowing her umbrella by the door. Echo was sprawled across the rug in front of the fireplace, only her head resting on her enormous dog bed like it was a pillow.
“I was at Lulu’s and thought I’d be able to make it home, but it’s too wet. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit.”
Eloise hugged her grandmother, breathing in the gardenia-scented soap she’d always used. It smelt like home and reminded her of all the mornings when Joanie had taken her and Charlie to school when her parents were at work. It’d only been a couple of weeks, but she still wasn’t used to not seeing Joanie every day. “I miss being stuck with you.”
“And it’s no secret I’ve been trying to score an invite here for years.” Joanie leant back and winked.
“I’m not even mad that you have an ulterior motive.” Eloise led her over to the big couch, moving their sketchbooks to the coffee table.
Joanie sat down and crossed her legs. “And I’m not mad that I wasn’t technically invited.”
Eloise rolled her eyes and bit back a retort about Joanie never needing an invitation, remembering this wasn’t actually her house. She might’ve figured out where all the stuff was in the kitchen, but she hadn’t asked Nate about having guests over. It was no secret he was a private guy. Besides, she’d been so slammed with searching for the right social worker to cover her job while she was away. Trying to distil everything she did had been a nightmare. Finally satisfied with what she’d put together, she now had the difficult job of sifting through all the applications. Loads had already been vetoed due to a lack of experience.
Her chest tightened as she mentally reviewed the list of everything she had to do before she left.
“Any updates on our house?” she asked.
“I’m still chasing paperwork for the insurers. It’s going to be a little while. All this rain isn’t helping either. Where’s your man?”
