October 31st
Most delicious.
Ainsley
Sammy and I turn on the Nebraska game. They are playing USC, and it’s supposed to be very close, if you follow the betting lines.
For obvious reasons, I do not, but even though Sammy doesn’t bet on games, he says he likes to know what the experts expect the game to be like.
Lincoln ended up on the thunderstorm side of things, but it moved through the area quickly, meaning their mid-afternoon kickoff time was not affected. Nearby Omaha has two inches of snow.
It’s funny. I remember Halloween as a kid. How Mom would make sure my costume was big enough that I could wear my coat under it if need be. I think about my own baby, taking it trick-or-treating someday.
“This game is too close,” Sammy says, opening another Tootsie Roll.
He’s been nervously chewing on them most of this quarter. He was serious when he said he was buying a bunch of candy. And he got his favorite peanut butter cups and Snickers bars for me.
To be honest, as a kid, trick-or-treating freaked me out. First, I’m told not to talk to strangers and especially to never take candy from them, and then I’m told to walk up to their front door and ask for just that.
And Sammy is right. The game is too close. We’re down by a field goal, and there’s only a few minutes left in the game.
“I thought you were supposed to find a, um, partner to share your candy with,” I tease as the opposing team takes a time-out.
“Yeah, well, I had options, trust me, but I’m still really not over Roman.”
“Tell that to the random men you’ve been seeing.”
“Fine, I’m rebounding.” He rolls his eyes. “In the most delicious of ways, but eventually, that gets old, and you just want someone to love.”
“Are you still talking to Apollo?” I inquire about the guy who works at the Archibald Lodge.
“We keep in touch. He was telling me though that rumor has it that your uncle is considering a new project in Kansas City next, and if it turns out to be true, he’d love to transfer there.
Which means we’d be in the same place. And he said if we were, he’d be interested in exploring our relationship further. ”
“And how do you feel about that?” I ask, not wanting to interject my feelings into it.
“I think he could be my penguin, honestly.”
“Your penguin?” I ask.
“Or my wolf, or my bald eagle, my goose, or my beaver.”
I break out in laughter. “I don’t think you have one of those.”
“Oh, hush, you. I’m just naming animals that mate for life.”
“Ahh, that’s sweet. You think it could be something?”
“In my dreams, yes. Do I think, in reality, a guy like him would want me?” He shrugs as the game comes back on and our team lines up.
“Oh, come on. You are very good-looking, Sammy. And if you weren’t gay …”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Keep the compliments coming. I love them—oh, go! Go! Goooooooooo!” he yells, standing up and pretending to run along with Damon.
Chase throws a beautiful, long spiral, and Damon is running down the sideline into the end zone when he looks over his shoulder and adjusts his speed, the ball landing in his outstretched hands.
“Touchdown!” Sammy yells. “We win! We win!”
After the game, Damon calls me.
“That was quite the catch to seal your victory,” I tell him.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? That we’ve only lost one game this year? I mean, that was our goal, of course—to go undefeated—but at the same time, the team didn’t even go to a bowl game last year.”
“I think it’s amazing how two best friends, who are talented and confident, can have an effect on a whole team. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy you’re happy. Kind of weird though, not having you or the family here to celebrate after the game. It’s just me, Dani, and Chase tonight. Although Treyvon is here too. Dani made us tacos with all the fixings. Can’t wait to dig in.”
“I’ll let you go do that. Again, congrats. You’re amazing.”
“In bed?” he teases. It’s become our running joke.
“One hundred percent,” I say with a grin as we end our conversation. “And happy Halloween, Damon!”