Chapter Seven
Wednesday evening, Kenzie went home as soon as practice was over. Finn kept the team a little longer. He called a huddle to discuss how the practice had gone and to offer tips and encouragement.
It was almost seven when he got to Kenzie’s house. She greeted him at the door in one of those flowy skirts of hers and a loose, filmy top.
“You look beautiful,” he said. Because she did.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks had turned temptingly pink. She glanced down at the to-go bag in his hand. “Is that…?”
“Satterfield’s crème br?lée.” He handed her the bag. “Two servings in foil ramekins. Instructions for putting them under the broiler to caramelize the topping are in there, too.”
She opened the bag and peeked in. “Yum. Even cold, it smells like heaven.” She moved back. “Come in, come in…”
* * *
“This is really good,” Finn announced twenty minutes later as he forked up another bite of Kenzie’s slow-cooker spiced turkey and couscous. He chewed slowly, savoring the combination of flavors.
“It’s easy and healthy,” Kenzie replied. She smiled…and then she frowned. “And I know what you’re doing.”
“Enjoying this delicious dinner, you mean?” A few minutes ago, he’d made the mistake of mentioning his recent conversation with his dad.
Now, he just wanted to leave the unpleasant subject behind.
So he ate another bite of couscous. It tasted like apricots and oranges, onion and cinnamon. Cilantro, too.
“Please,” Kenzie said. “You’re changing the subject. Don’t.”
“Let’s forget about my father—at least until after dinner,” he suggested. “Talking about him interferes with my appreciation of this excellent meal.”
“Eat more slowly. You’ll be fine.”
He made a face and she made one right back at him. Then he said, “I shouldn’t have brought him up.”
“Yes, you should. It’s good to talk about him with someone who cares for you.”
Finn loved the sound of that. “So you care about me, huh?”
Now, she looked simultaneously adorable and annoyed. “Of course, I care about you.”
“I’m glad. Because I care about you, too.”
“And I’m glad, as well,” she said primly. “Now, about your dad…”
He was thinking he’d like to have dinner with her every night. Having dinner with Kenzie seemed to him the perfect way to end the day.
If they were a couple for real, they would tidy up the kitchen together, maybe watch a show. They might discuss whatever family plans they had in the works. And they would hang out with the baby, of course—that is, once the baby was born.
And later, when the baby was sound asleep in her crib, they would go to bed. Together. Some nights they would make slow, perfect love.
And some nights they would simply hold each other. On those nights, they would talk about how their separate days had gone, maybe share their dreams and hopes for their future and the future of their family. Eventually, they would drop off to sleep in each other’s arms…
“Finn.”
He sat up straighter. “Huh?”
“We were talking about your dad.”
“Right…” Why, why, why had he said a word about his dad? And why wouldn’t she just let it go?
She stared at him across the table, waiting.
Reluctantly he volunteered, “My dad’s… Well, you know how he is.
He lives in a world where everything is the way he wants it to be.
In that world, his sons have to strive for what he considers success.
That I left professional football behind is completely unacceptable to him.
He’s convinced that I must be disappointed in myself and now he’s convinced himself that I moved back to Tenacity as the first step in a supposed plan to become a coach in the NFL. ”
Her eyes got wide. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Unbelievable, huh? Let me just make this clear. I am not disappointed in myself or my life. Not in the least. I like my life now.”
“Hmm.” She forked up a bite of tossed salad and chewed it thoughtfully.
He looked at her warily. “What are you thinking?”
She sipped from her tall glass of ice water. As she set her glass down, she said, “Well, Finn. Your father’s assumption that you’re planning to get back into professional football isn’t all that far-fetched. You were a star NFL quarterback.”
“Yeah, for about ten minutes.”
“Don’t minimize your accomplishments. You won MVP two years running and that second year, you went all the way to the championship.”
“And in the third game of my third season, I tore my ACL. It was downhill from there.”
“Not the point. You’re a golden boy. And your injured knee won’t stand in the way of a possible coaching career.”
“I didn’t say it would. I just said that I only had a couple of great years in the NFL. As for being a golden boy, that ship has sailed. I barely got started before I was finished.”
“But your start was spectacular. People know your name. And you know the game. Your father’s idea of your future is within the realm of possibility if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t.”
She made a low, puzzled sound. “You don’t?”
“No, I don’t want to coach professional football.
I honestly don’t. I like my life the way it is right now.
I like living here in my hometown. I like being here as Tenacity comes into its own again.
I like helping out any way I can. And I like making money selling houses to folks who will put down roots here and help make our town grow, make Tenacity the kind of place people want to live and raise their families.
“Yes, I’m having a great time working with the Titans. But that doesn’t mean I have any desire to be a coach in the NFL.”
Kenzie was staring at him so intently. A single tear slid down her soft cheek.
“Kenz?” He shoved back his chair and stood. “What is it? Are you okay?”
She sniffled, waved a hand at him and commanded, “Sit back down. I’m fine.”
Slowly, he sank to his chair. “But you’re crying…”
“It’s nothing.” Another tear fell. She swiped it away. “Just hormones.” He didn’t believe her. And that must have shown on his face, because she added with a groan, “If you must know, it’s…well, what you just said was beautiful, that’s all.”
Now, he had no idea what to say next. “Yeah, well. It’s only the truth.”
“I’m just going to get up and get a tissue, okay? I’ll be right back.” She headed for the short hall to her room. When she returned, he kept his mouth shut—except to put food in it—for the next several minutes. Eventually, he said, “I’ve been thinking about that cat you said you wanted.”
She looked adorably flummoxed. “What cat?”
“The other day at practice, remember? You said you were considering getting a cat…or a dog.”
“Oh, that. I was just thinking out loud.”
“So you don’t want a pet?”
“I’m not sure.” She gestured at her baby bump. “As you might have noticed, I have lot going on. But I do miss having pets.”
“I thought so. And I did some research. I suggest a cat. They don’t take as much training and they do better when left on their own than a dog does.” She was looking at him strangely. He asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about you, thinking how you and your brothers had no pets growing up…”
“You’re right, we never had so much as a goldfish.”
“If I remember correctly, that was your dad’s doing.”
“Yeah. He always said animals were messy and he didn’t see the point. And then later, when I was playing pro ball, I never felt all that settled, never felt I had time for a pet.”
“That is just sad.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is.”
She shook her head. “Your dad. What a guy.”
“Can we not get side-tracked into talking about my dad?”
She grinned then. “Fair enough. Forget your dad.”
“Happy to—and listen, if I’m way off-base and you don’t even want a cat, you should just say so now.”
She pushed her empty plate to the side, braced her elbow on the table and rested her chin on the heel of her palm. “I haven’t had a cat in years. My ex was like your dad. Not a pet person.”
“So you are interested in adopting a cat?”
“You know what? Yeah. I am. Tell me about this research that you did.”
“Sure. You should get two cats. They will be happier and they’ll keep each other company when you’re at school or whatever. Shelter cats are great unless you want some specific breed.”
“Not really. Just, you know, a nice cat—or I guess, two nice cats.”
“Okay. A cat without papers costs anywhere from nothing to over two hundred bucks depending on the source. Then there are vet bills, neutering and spaying, shots, all that. There are also cat supplies and food. All that can get expensive.”
“Honestly, I can swing it financially. We always had cats and a dog when I was growing up. There’s something so reassuring about having pets around. When they bond with you, they teach you the meaning of devotion. I want that for my little girl.”
“So, then if you’re going to do this, they should be indoor cats. Cats that don’t eat prey or raw meat.”
“Why?”
“To protect against toxoplasmosis, a parasitic infection that can cause birth defects or miscarriage.”
“Yikes!” She was wide-eyed. “You really did look into this.”
“Might as well be prepared, right?”
“Definitely, and I think I read about toxoplasmosis somewhere. Pregnant women get infected from cleaning the litter box.”
“But you won’t have a problem if you keep your cats indoors.
And you can have them tested—and treated, if necessary—before you bring them home.
And wear nitrile gloves when you clean the litter box to be extra safe.
” He was watching her face. Was she skeptical?
“You don’t seem all that sure about this. ”
“I’m thinking it sounds like a lot. And I’m gone all day five days a week. It seems wrong to bring two cats home and then start out by leaving them alone all day.”
“Yeah, I thought about that and I think I have a solution for you.”
“You really want me to have a cat, don’t you?”
“Only if you really want one.”
She was looking at him strangely. Finally, she said, “I kind of can’t believe you’ve been figuring out how a divorced pregnant woman with a full-time job might be able to adopt a cat…or two.”
“Hey. What are friends for?”