Page 46 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“The three of us had a nice dinner and talked. Some of it was about football, Wes plays so it came up, but we talked about other stuff too. I even gave them some of the talking points we rehearsed for the charity, to see how it would go over.”

“And?” I put my hand on his leg, sensing his hesitation.

“Sawyer said I sounded like an after school special.” He presses his lips into a firm line.

“What’s that?”

Just then Delaney shows up, and Colt rises to greet her, giving her a warm handshake and pulling her chair out with a warm smile.

“So, what’d I miss?” Delaney jumps in, taking charge like she usually does, and having the courtesy not to gush over Colt about football the way I know she really wants to.

“After school specials,” I tell her.

“What?” She wrinkles her nose. Colt glances at me briefly, and when I don’t elaborate, he gives me a playful eye roll before he does.

“The organization Sam’s helping me build is to encourage kids, particularly athletes, to get a degree so they have options if sports don’t pan out. My daughter’s stepbrother falls into that category, so I told them some of the messages Sam came up with. My daughter said that I sounded like an after school special.” He glances at me with an affectionate grin before turning his attention back to Delaney. “Sam doesn’t know what that means.”

“Oh, got it.” Delaney turns to me, “They used to have these TV shows that aired after school got out. All of them had some sort of lesson, sometimes educational, sometimes moral.” She waves her hand as if to say ‘etcetera.’ “Anyhow, kids loved getting to watch TV, and parents felt okay about it because they thought their kids were learning something. They got dubbed after school specials.”

“So, is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I glance between the two of them for more information.

“It’s not great.” Colt shoots me an apologetic look.

“Well,” Delaney hedges, “It doesn’t have to be bad either. Maybe it’s just because you’re her dad that she thinks that.”

“Why would being her dad make her think that?” I ask.

“Advice that comes from your own parent is a lecture, but when it comes from anyone else is just advice.” Delaney shrugs nonchalantly, as if this is common knowledge. Although for all I know, maybe it is.

“Sounds about right darlin’.” Colt nods in agreement. “Wes, her stepbrother, didn’t seem to think I sounded as corny as she did.”

“How do you know this?” I ask Delaney.

“I was a kid once, same as you two.” She points her finger at each of us in turn before picking up her menu. “What’s good here?”

“Steak Oscar. And what does that mean you were a kid once?” I feel like there’s some American childhood thing I’m missing.

She sets the menu down and pins me with an exasperated look. “Did you never get annoyed with your parents for trying to teach you stuff?”

“Um, no. Did you?” I turn to Colt.

“It takes a lot to annoy me.” He gives me a sly little wink. “But Sawyer probably doesn’t think of me as a parent, so giving advice would sound strange.”

“Why wouldn’t she think of you that way?” Delaney scrunches her nose.

“She doesn’t live with me, so I don’t have a lot of rules for her. And most of the time when we see each other it’s specifically to do something fun, so I don’t really fit the traditional parent role.” His tone is aloof, so I doubt Delaney reads anything into it, but I can feel him stiffen as he talks.

It can’t be easy to admit your faults as a parent, especially to someone you just met, but Colt has never tried to hide the truth, even from himself, and I respect that.

“Makes sense.” Delaney turns back to her menu. “But just in case, maybe you want to test the message on a few more kids before you roll it out to be sure.”

I set my hand on Colt’s leg under the table and give it a gentle squeeze. He tugs me to him and kisses me on the forehead, which Delaney pretends not to notice, and signals for the waiter to take our orders.

A few hours later, our stomachs full and our faces sore from laughing, Delaney leans back in her chair with a satisfied grin.

“What?” I ask.

“You.” She points at me. “You’re smiling.”

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