I opened the door and held a finger to my pursed lips. She nodded and tiptoed into the kitchen. Realizing I was in my t-shirt, I tiptoed to the bedroom and fetched my shirt. Martha still slept. Closing the bedroom door, I buttoned my shirt and waited in the living room until Ronnie tiptoed from the kitchen."Shh, okay," she whispered. She held a cup half filled with coffee grinds. She stood near the door waiting, smiling sleepily with curly black hair falling into her face. I moved quickly to the door.She whispered, "You guys sure clean up fast around here."Not understanding, I looked at her.With her head she gestured toward the living room sofa. "The sofa's already made up and folded. Unless you sleep on the floor." Oh," I said. "Yeah. I woke up early."She patted me on the shoulder. "Good boy. You Southern guys are so self sufficient." Wincing and grimacing playfully, she whispered "shh" again and opened the door and slithered past it. I stood near the door and was ready to close it. He couldn’t imagine her not laughing, and to hear her voice sounding almost vulnerable filled him with emotion. Something he had been trying to keep at bay now popped out at the most inopportune times. A few of the players started to punch the air and were shouting encouragement to each other, Gabe grinned at them and patted a few of their backs as he made his way on the field. Walking to his customary spot behind the benches, he grabbed a gummy worm and thought about that first game he’d invited Samantha to come to. God, he’d been such an ass to her but he didn’t know how to deal with it all. Gabe had wanted her here at the stadium, wanted her to see him doing the work he loved almost more than anything, but having her so close distracted him and broke his concentration. When Samantha and Camille had moved down to the seats near the benches, he didn’t have to look up to know she was there. He felt her presence, and forced himself to focus on the game. Later, after the game ended and.
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