Chapter 10 #4
“What are you doing now?” Callum texted as I left the office for the day. “Can you meet me here?” He sent directions.
“Sure, I’m on my way,” I answered and I drove over to the furniture store on his map.
It was one that offered Woodsmen discounts, and I wondered if he had remembered.
I beat him there and when I saw him, I stared just as hard as the other people in the store.
They were excited about being close to a Woodsmen but I was shocked by his appearance.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I got a trim,” he said, rubbing his beard. “It was too long. I got my hair trimmed, too. What do you think?”
“I love it,” I said. He looked like himself but slightly more refined. Beau Gowan believed that we shouldn’t be trying to change things about people, just enhance them. Callum was enhanced and I told him that, too.
“Now we need some enhanced furniture. I liked the chair with the big arms in the picture that you sent,” he said. “I also have big arms, so it makes sense.” One of his was around my waist as we walked around.
“Think of fabric durability and how this piece will fit into the larger scheme,” I said, because that was something that Beau had told me when he’d examined my portfolio of chairs. “We’re looking for quality, which will give us longevity.” I had also heard that today.
“Hm. How about this one?” He sat in it. “No. I think it was made for a mouse.”
Or a normal-sized person. “Anara would probably have a more unusual animal to use as an example,” I said as we moved on. “No, Callum, you can’t even fit in there.”
“Is that comment about my ass? Are you saying it’s too big?” He got up and stared at me. “Why are you upset?”
Because I had been thinking about my own ass. “What about this gray one? It’s neutral.”
“Let’s try it,” he agreed, and plopped down. The chair didn’t give way but the salesperson looked concerned. “High back, wide arms, seems sturdy. Come here,” he told me.
I sat on his knee and he tugged me until we were seated like we had been the night before, cuddled up. “We fit,” I said.
“I’m very comfortable, except I think that we’re putting on a show for people. They’re taking pictures,” he mentioned and stood up, bringing me with him. “Can we get this delivered?” he asked the salesperson. “Or do you guys have rope? We can tie it to the top of my car.”
They delivered and were happy to do it immediately, with six people tagging along to help out. I guessed that they were interested in seeing the inside of a Woodmen player’s house, but they acted disappointed when they did.
“Is there more to this place?” one of the delivery guys asked. He hadn’t done anything except hold the door open, but they had all come in to look around.
“No, sorry,” Callum told him. “I think that the QB has a mansion, if you ever get a chance to look around there.”
“Is he a dick? That’s what I heard,” another guy suggested, and the girl who’d driven the truck said that was bull. They ended up hanging out with us for a while and made it into a video I posted about our first real furniture purchase.
“This is very nice,” Callum told me later. We were in the chair together, fitting perfectly, as we both did some film study for the next game. “See how I flinched there?” He tapped the orange case. “No good.”
“You played so well,” I answered. “I didn’t notice any flinch at all.”
“Lucky for me, the ref didn’t, either.”
“I don’t think I’d be very good at that job,” I said. “I would like to own the team, though. I have some changes to implement.”
He laughed. “Like what?”
“The first thing I would do is make the camera people focus only on the O-line. I don’t understand why they always follow the ball,” I told him and then we both shook when he laughed harder.
“You’d be great at that job. You also did a great job picking our chair,” he said, although it was a joint effort.
“Do you think that you would ever sit here and read?” I asked. “Like, if you ever had a kid, would you read books to her in a chair like this? Or maybe, you’d do it in this exact chair?”
“I never thought about it.”
I waited for him to consider the idea now and I also considered how he might be as a father.
I thought of how careful he was when he touched me.
I thought about him catching bugs to put them outside, talking to each fan who wanted his autograph, and inviting the chair delivery people to have a beer if they were allowed.
“Kids like books,” he said. “I remember my teachers reading to us and I didn’t even want to breathe much, because I was afraid to miss parts. I’d like to do that, someday.”
I nodded. “You’d be good at it.”
“You’re the one who didn’t see me flinch, so now I’m not sure if I trust your opinion.”
“I told you that you had to get new shoes, didn’t I?” I reminded him.
“They were getting a hole in the toe. But you were right.” He pointed at his neck. “See, now there’s less hair. More skin showing.”
“Oh.” Was that why he’d gotten the trim? I leaned up and kissed some of the area that had been exposed. “I like it.”
“Me too.” He hugged me closer. “A lot.”