Now we were carrying on with football Sunday but without the food fest. Though Jake did say he was going to order pizza in about an hour.
“Indeed,” I agreed with boy Taylor. “He’s very pretty. Too pretty and he knows it. An African-American football player could pull off that sweater by sheer force of will. A rougher man, with, say, no neck and a crew cut, absolutely. A pretty man who knows he’s pretty, he simply looks ridiculous.”
“Totally,” girl Taylor agreed.
“I’m psyched Josie thinks he’s a pretty-boy. Everyone thinks he’s so hot. He does nothing for me and never has,” Amber put in just as I felt Jake move and then felt his lips at my ear.
“Uh…babe, just sayin’, that’s my team’s quarterback.”
I turned my head to look at him, uncertain why my assessment of the man’s looks and attire would mean anything regardless if he played for Jake’s team.
“And Ethan’s,” he finished when I caught his eyes.
It was then I looked to Ethan who was sitting on the couch, legs out, arms crossed, lips pressed tight, eyes glued to the television, looking fit to be tied.
I found this interesting.
Apparently my assessment of a man’s looks and attire did mean something if that man played for a beloved team.
“Taylors and Amber,” I called out. “We should cease insulting this man’s sweater. It’s upsetting Ethan.”
They all looked to Ethan.
“Sorry, Ethan,” girl Taylor said.
“Sorry, Eath,” boy Taylor said.
“Sorry, runt,” Amber said.
Ethan screwed up his face and glared at Amber.
“Don’t call me runt!” he snapped at his sister, uncharacteristically indignantly.
“Eath—” she started but Ethan looked to his father.
“Is Conner okay?” he demanded to know.
My insides melted.
He was possibly upset about our insulting his quarterback’s knitwear but he was more worried about his brother.
He was such a good child.
“He’ll be okay, bud,” Jake replied.
“That’s not okay now,” Ethan pointed out rather astutely.
And he was so very bright.
“You’re right, Eath,” Jake said gently. “But he will be.”
Ethan glared at his father for a long moment then demanded, “Promise?”
“Promise, son,” Jake promised.
Ethan kept glaring at his father before he turned his glare to the television and declared, “I’m never dating ever.”
Jake made a grunt that sounded like a swallowed chuckle and the Taylors and Amber grinned at each other.
“I’d like to rewind our afternoon and go over that safety business again,” I announced to change the subject and perhaps lighten the mood. “I know your father explained it to me when it happened but I fear it still makes little sense. Ethan, please expound on that explanation.”
“It’s super easy, Josie,” Ethan told me. “It’s when the offense gets downed in their own end zone.”
“And what’s an end zone?” I inquired.
Ethan blinked.
Jake emitted another grunt.
“That big part at the end of the field,” Ethan explained. “Where you go to get a touchdown.”
“Ah,” I murmured. “I thought so.”
Ethan studied me narrowly and asked, “Are you bein’ full of it?”
“Entirely,” I answered.
At my admission, his face cracked in a grin, which pleased me greatly.
Alas, with very bad timing, at that very moment we heard the garage door going up and Ethan’s smile froze as his eyes went to the entryway to the family room.
In no time, Conner appeared in the entryway with eyes only for his father, his expression making my stomach clench, and I knew Jake’s assertion that he would be okay in the future was in jeopardy.
“Dad,” was all he said before he disappeared from the entryway.
That was all he had to say. Giving me a quick squeeze of the knee before he pushed out of the chair, Jake followed his eldest son.
“Uh-oh,” boy Taylor murmured.
But Amber got up and walked to her little brother, sat next to him on the couch and bumped him with her shoulder. “Want a hot fudge sundae?”
“Not hungry,” Ethan muttered, the first time he had been thus since I’d met him.
Very worried about his brother.
“Wanna help me make some for the Taylors and me?”
He looked up at his sister. Then he nodded.
They got off the couch and went to the kitchen but not before I caught her hand as they passed me and gave it a squeeze.
She gave me a worried look but squeezed my hand back.
She was such a good sister.
The Taylors and Amber were consuming their sundaes (and Ethan must have given in because he was consuming one too), when Jake appeared in the entryway.
“Josie,” was all he said but he didn’t then disappear.
He waited until I made it to him before he turned to the side to let me precede him but did this in a way that I knew we were heading to the kitchen.
I went there. Jake followed.
I moved to the far side of the island, stopped and rested a hip against it. Jake got close and did the same.
“Is Conner all right?” I asked quietly.
“Not by a long shot,” he answered.
Oh dear.
I waited and Jake gave it to me.
“Seems Mia Earhart is a real piece of work.”
I said it out loud this time.
“Oh dear.”
“Oh yeah,” Jake agreed. “Orchestrated one helluva maneuver. Got one of her friends who’s mom is friends with Ellie’s mom to tell that mom that Conner got Mia pregnant. That mom didn’t hesitate to tell Ellie’s mom. Seein’ as Conner’s been seein’ a lot of Ellie, this did not go down real good. Ellie’s mom and dad told Ellie that she had to break it off with Conner at school tomorrow and was not to have anything to do with him before or after that shit went down. Seein’ as Conner showed at their house, this sped that up and got Conner not only a face to face with a very irate father who wants him to have nothin’ to do with his daughter, it got him a face to face with a girl he likes a whole f**kin’ lot who thinks he’s a dick.”
“But Mia isn’t pregnant,” I reminded him.
“I know. They weren’t so easy to convince.”
I pressed my lips together before I got closer and noted even more quietly, “The truth obviously will out.”