“They are adorable,” she says, then studies my face for a few seconds, like she’s making sure she has clearance. “You said they were half-sisters…”
An invitation, giving me the chance to fill in the gaps. So far, I like sharing with Brooke. “My dad took off when I was five, then he died when I was twelve—hard-partying lifestyle, drinking too much, driving too fast.”
She squeezes my arm. “That’s hard.”
“It is but I can’t even say I miss him because Inever knew him. All I knew was how he left Mom—with all the responsibility.”
“She raised a damn fine son,” Brooke says.
Mom deserves the credit. “She’s a good woman. I have the utmost respect for her. I want to do right by her. She’ll be at my first game.”
“I bet you’ll love seeing her there.”
“And you?” My question is open-ended too, for the same reasons. She can tell me about her family if she wants to or not.
“Mom and Dad are still together. He’s a high school football coach. Cara and I try to see them as often as we can.”
“Nice,” I say, liking that she has similar priorities to mine. “Will they come to the game too?”
“Probably. I called to let them know about the promotion this afternoon. Dad is excited about me working for a football team now.”
“Good man,” I say as we pass a billboard for Sebastian Lowe’s new film, a dark superhero flick I can’t wait to see.
“Favorite movie ever,” I prompt.
“Fake Play, of course,” Brooke says, naming a popular football movie from last decade.
I scoff. “You can’t pick a football movie.”
“Why not?”
“Because we work in football. Sports movies are ruled out.”
“But it’s an awesome movie. And they should not be ruled out.”
“Fine. Then let’s addThe Time OutandPar for the Course. Also,Hail Mary,” I add.
“Whoa, reaching way back in the Hall of Fame archives for that one.”
“You didn’t really think I’d pickField of Green. Everyone picksField of Green.”
“Of course I didn’t think you’d do that, Drew,” she says. “And I do love all of those. The refurbished cinema off Ocean Avenue—Silver Screen Theater—is showing some of the best sports flicks in a few weeks. IncludingFake Play. You can bet I’ll be there.”
“No one can resist the pull ofFake Play.”
“Ha! I knew you loved it after all.”
“I never said I didn’t,” I tease.
“It’s the kind of football movie that even non-football fans love.”
I scowl. “There are people who don’t like football?”
She scoffs dismissively. “I’ve heard about their existence. Small little pockets on the outskirts of society.”
“Seems terribly sad to be such a person.”
“It’s devastating, Drew,” she says, then she roams her eyes over me, like she’s cataloguing my face, my chest, my arms, my legs. A soft sigh falls from her lips, a hint of frustration in it. “I’m having such a good time that if I don’t catch a Lyft, I’ll be tempted.”