Page 14 of You Found Me
What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter 5
Spencer
Bastian told us before coming not to worry about planning anything during our visit and that he had it all covered.
Beckett and I protested since we’re here forhisbirthday. But considering how much more stubborn he is than us, we gave up on that fight.
Rather than do something he wants to do in celebration for his big day, we’re at the stadium for an unofficial tour, and I’m stunned. Bastian knew how much I hated not being able to see it in all its glory during his first year with them this past season. And with his teammates away for the day, we practically get the whole place to ourselves.
While I love the game, football was never something I was any good at—soccer was more my speed—Beckett and Bastian were born with all the hand-eye coordination skills. Bastian works his ass off to be as good as his dad once was, while Beckett just has natural athleticism.
We finish up a quick lunch in one of the press boxes and start making our way down to the field. Bastian turns to us and asks, “Wanna throw a ball around for a bit?”
“Are you for real?”
He chuckles at my excitement while Beckett rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yep. I got permission from my coaches as long as we don’t ruin the field.”
Before I say yes, I look to Beckett to see if he’s cool with it—not because he’s my big brother and I’m seeking permission—but because of his finicky relationship with football.
“Since you can’t throw to save your life and Bastian is used to catching, I guess I’ll dust off the old quarterback arm,” Beckett responds to my unspoken question.
“Oh, fuck off,” I say with a laugh. “I’m not that bad.”
Bastian snorts and when I turn to him, he throws his hands up, acting all innocent.
After twenty minutes andzeropasses caught by me, Bastian begged to call it quits. Not to spare my feelings, but because he caught a cramp in his side from laughing.
Beckett comes over, patting my shoulder. “You almost had a couple of them.”
Bastian quips, “Maybe with his face. Those hands never touched the ball.”
Shaking my head, I tell them, “I think I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day.”
“There’s nothing else for us to see here anyway,” Bastian says. “I tried to get access to the construction of the new stadium, but they shut that request down so fast. We can head back to my place whenever you’re both good to go and get ready for tonight.”
“Way to kick me when I’m down,” I joke.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” Beckett asks.
Bastian smiles. “You’ll see.”
***
Turns out the plan for tonight follows the theme of Bastian doing things forusrather than himself.
Which is why we’ve been sitting in the audience of the Grand Ole Opry watching their live performance lineup in honor of their 100th year.
Visiting the Opry is something Beckett’s always wanted to do but never made the time to go. This is exactly where he wants to be, tapping along to a country song with a wide grin, laughing as he throws his arm around Bastian.
Looking over at Beckett—a big smile on his face as he mouths along to one of the songs—I realize that I haven’t seen him look this happy in a long time. If I’d known how happy this place would make him, even for a moment, I definitely would have dragged him here much sooner.
After the last performer, the emcee for the night thanks everyone for coming and we head out to the gift shop to grab a memento for our folks. It’s a tradition. Our parents have a curio cabinet thatusedto house their wedding china, but one day, the three of us thought playing tag football in the house was a good idea. That idea was brilliant for about five seconds until Bastian slammed me into it, causing the china to smack against the elegant doors, shattering every single piece.
It just so happened that Beckett had gone on a field trip to the aquarium the day before and bought a mug in the shape of a turtle with some of his allowance. He ran to his room, grabbed it, and then gave it to my mom along with a big apology. She laughed when she saw it, saying “I never did like that china pattern anyway” and placed the turtle mug front and center in the cabinet, cherishing the kitschy mug as though it was more priceless than the wedding china.
From that point on, every trip we’d take, they let us pick whatever type of cup we liked to add to our unique collection. We find a mug in the shape of a banjo, knowing right away that’s what they’re getting this time.
