6. Brad
6
brAD
I jumped into the air, grabbing the ball as it came soaring at me. Laughing, I raised it in victory over my head. “Touchdown!” I slammed it down on the grass in celebration. The yard was always perfectly maintained, surrounded by an iron fence. There was enough room we could all hang out or play a family game of football, but we all knew better than to get too close to the stucco house for fear of getting too close to Mom’s flowers.
Dad laughed. “Nice one, kiddo.”
“Guys, can you take ten?” Mom called from the sliding glass door, smiling out at the three of us.
“Food?” asked my brother, Kyle, still pouting about his crushing defeat in backyard football.
“Yep, dinner. I made chicken, so hurry up before your dad beats you to it and there’s none left,” she said with a wink, turning on her heel to go back inside.
I laughed. “Man, there’s nothing like being home.”
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders, ruffling my hair. “We’re always happy to have you home, kid.”
I smiled. From the moment I got home, it felt like I never stopped smiling. Mom’s home cooking and messing around with my dad and little brother. It felt like I’d never even left, like everything was still the same as high school. Maybe some people thought that was a problem, but my family was great. We were a couple of weeks into the summer, and we’d already caught up on everything I’d missed. Namely, my brother’s latest girlfriend and one of dad’s friends left his job and moved to Thailand on a sudden whim. Mom filled me in on all the latest gossip from the extended family. Aunt Bea and her latest relationship with a guy ten years younger than her, and cousin Angie’s at-home bleach job that turned out orange more than blonde.
As we crowded around the dark wooden table, filled to the brim with dishes, the sound echoed from all our voices melding together. Our house was modest, at least by southern California standards, but we didn’t want for anything. My parents just kept things pretty low-key. It was one story, three bedrooms, and plenty of light from all the windows. That was sort of Mom’s big thing — she couldn’t handle dim spaces. Anytime we traveled, she’d start complaining as soon as we got to the hotel — no matter how nice — but they were rarely bright enough for her. Dad had learned to book corner rooms for her to help.
The dining room filled with three talking voices all at once. It was a wonder we could ever hear each other, yet it never seemed like we ran out of topics to cover. I joined in, and the three voices became four. We fought over the drumsticks, Kyle pouted some more about losing at football, and Mom just pretended to be annoyed with all of us. The way she kept smiling and serving us more told us everything we needed to know. This was her favorite thing, when all of us boys crowded around a table and eating the dinner she prepared so lovingly.
I groaned as I took a bite of my winning drumstick. “Mom, I think this is the best ever.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “You say that every time.”
“It’s always true.” I grinned. The frat chef was great, but still didn’t compare to Mom’s food.
“Thank you, honey. It must be all the love I get from all of you.” There was that fond tone in her voice.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered about the other guys. If Dylan was having a hard time with his dad, if Theo had come in from the ocean yet, if Shane had seen his mom for more than ten minutes.
“So, Brad, you’re looking good. Maybe this next season we’ll come see a few games?” Dad said, tilting his head at me.
I nodded. “You should. It’s the last year of college ball, right?” They’d shown up to plenty of games before to show their support and make sure I knew how much they were proud of me.
There was a lot implied in his words. That I had to make it to pro, that I couldn’t doubt about it for even a moment. Even though I did, I feared something would make it not happen. Then I’d have to look at my dad and he’d look at me and he’d only see himself there. He’d see the repeat of his own career, from promising player to just a regular guy who wasn’t cut out for professional sports.
I didn’t want that to be the case. I couldn’t handle the thought of disappointing my dad and making him relive that. My brother was a lineman on his high school team, but if I was being honest, he just wasn’t as good as me. I didn’t like to think about it, and I really didn’t like to rub it in. The last thing any of us needed was for that rivalry to come to a head, more than us just being brothers and football players as it was. If I had to compare us, I was the stronger player. I’d shown promise early on, and everyone told me so. Kyle had to know it, too, but he never said it, and neither did I. No one did out loud, but sometimes I’d catch that look on Dad’s face — like I was his last hope.
My brother only did it partly because he also knew how important it was to our dad.
“So Brad, are you seeing anyone?” Kyle asked. Probably so he could rub his girlfriend in my face again, to prove he got more action than I did.
It was a cheap ploy. I shrugged. “Not really, no. Just enjoying the single life at the moment.” I let the statement dangle there in the air, enough to please Mom that there was no one to worry about and make my brother think I got more than I did. Not for a lack of offers, just for a lack of interest.
Mom stared at me over her bite anyway, giving me a death glare that chilled me to the bone.
Dad laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll find the right person one of these days. My guess is it’ll be someone who will keep your head focused, someone who’ll cheer you on, you know? Someone we can all see on the sidelines with us.”
Mom hummed. “I hope it’ll be someone who can cook. You need to eat well.”
“He’ll probably marry someone super lame.” My brother took another bite of chicken.
I shook my head. “I mean…who knows? It’s too early to think about that kind of thing, isn’t it?” Even as I said it, I wondered if they’d be disappointed if it wasn’t anyone like what they expected. They said nothing too specific, but they still had certain expectations. It would have to be someone who was into football, who would fit in right with their family portraits and wanted to do great big family things together.
It’s not like I didn’t want that, but it was a lot to live up to. Especially if they thought those things but wouldn’t say it. I hated disappointing people. Even if they said they wouldn’t care. Maybe they wouldn’t and I was getting all worked up in my head, but the way they looked at me so fondly, I wasn’t so sure.
I was the oldest, which meant there was a certain expectation of me. I was supposed to live up to all the expectations of my family and everyone else, and I didn’t want to become a disappointment if I failed. If I didn’t go pro, if I didn’t marry someone they liked, if I didn’t end up with kids, if I didn’t stay smart about my choices.
My dad expected me to play the field and mess around. Like Shane, he expected a certain level of college craziness that everyone talked about. He was in my shoes once, and he thought I should do what I could get away with. Which wasn’t the type of guy I was, either. I liked to just hang out with my friends and enjoy food and play ball.
My mom, on the other hand, wanted me to study more than party. Every time I didn’t get great grades, I could see that look in her eyes. Disappointment. Unfortunately for her, I didn’t get great grades. Maybe I wasn’t stupid , but it didn’t come easily to me. I had to work hard for just Cs and Bs, and that was enough. Unless they expected more. Always more.