Page 13 of Hometown Touchdown
A server stops by and I order an orange juice—mostly for something to do with my hands. I tuck them under the table, hiding the slight tremble in my fingers.
“I’ve missed you too,” Kate says. “And don’t be sorry. I’m sure it was overwhelming, starting over in a new city.”
“It was,” I admit. “But I still should’ve called more. I think I told myself I needed a clean slate, but really, I was just avoiding how much I missed home. How much I missed you.”
Kate waves a hand, brushing it off. “Life happens. The important thing is you’re here now.”
She says it with such certainty, like the door never really closed—even though I know I was the one who locked it.
I nod, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. I don’t deserve her grace.
When I left for Seattle, it wasn’t some grand, brave leap toward a fresh start. It was a slow retreat—a quiet unraveling that started long before I packed a single box.
Technically, I didn’t leave Cedar Falls. I left my college town two hours away. But the real goodbye had happened earlier. When things ended with Knox, when everything between us fractured. After that, Cedar Falls felt too tight, too exposed. Like the whole town could see the pieces of me I was trying to hold together.
So I kept my distance.
I told myself I was chasing something new, but really, I was running. Running from the comfort of people who loved me in that suffocating, well-meaning way that made it impossible to breathe. From the version of myself that had roots in too many places—this street, that diner booth, his bed. From the ache of being known too well and the shame of not knowing who I was anymore withouthim.
And most of all, I was running from the fear that I’d never be enough for the life Knox was about to step into.
We all knew he would get picked up early in the draft. The boy I kissed under the bleachers who would soon be wearing a pro jersey, and the spotlight that followed him felt blinding from a distance. I couldn’t picture myself in it. Couldn’t imagine being the girl waiting on the sidelines, smiling for cameras, holding everything together while he chased greatness. That wasn’t the life I wanted. Or maybe I just didn’t believe I was strong enough for it.
So I left before he could outgrow me.
Before he could realize that the girl with big dreams and a carefully scribbled five-year plan didn’t fit in the glossy pages of the life he was heading toward. I thought if I left first, it would hurt less.
Even now, saying his name is like pressing on a bruise.
The server returns to take our order, pulling me out of the spiral. I order more than I need, but Penny’s brunch never disappoints—and leftovers mean I don’t have to cook.
Evie’s busy organizing her crayons in a perfect spectrum, red to purple. Every so often, she peeks at me, then quickly back to her arrangement. I smile and give her a little wave. She doesn’t return it, but her mouth twitches like she might be warming up.
“She’s so big,” I say, turning to Kate. “I can’t believe I’m just meeting her now.”
Kate watches her with soft eyes. “I know. She’s four going on fourteen.”
“She’s beautiful,” I say honestly. “And clearly has a strong eye for organization.”
Kate laughs. “She takes her color-coding very seriously. Try switching the order and you’ll see chaos unfold.”
I glance between them, the question rising before I can talk myself out of it.
“So…can I ask something? You don’t have to answer. I just—who’s her father?”
Kate hesitates. It’s in the way her fingers curl around her coffee cup. Then she gives me a smile—convincing enough to pass, but not quite real.
“I’ll tell you everything. One day,” she says gently. “But today’s not that day.”
I nod, even though the curiosity tugs hard.
She gets up to grab napkins, and I look across the table at Evie. She’s been quiet, focused on extracting every blueberry from her fruit cup and lining them up like little soldiers.
I lean in. “Is this a blueberry inspection? Are they in trouble?”
Evie pauses, eyes serious. “This one’s mushy. He has to go.”
“Harsh, but fair,” I whisper. “We don’t negotiate with squishy berries.”
