Page 41 of Guarding the Star

“Yeah, it seems so. It's his new obsession,” Tessa confirms from the couch.

“He named the dragon after Paula? Not after me?” I press.

I must be visibly jealous, because Tessa and Paula get up and come look at the drawing.

“That's a really cool dragon, Wes,” she says, crouching down to his level.

“Come,” the kid says, pulling her hand.

He drags her to his room to show her his ball collection, and I'm left standing there, stunned.

“I've seen them a million times anyway. I don't care,” I lie.

From the living room we hear him describe each one. He has six. The red one is his favorite. The blue one is flat, but you can't throw it away because it has feelings and would get sad. The green one smells weird. The multicolored one doesn't bounce.

Zoe elbows me.

“She's good with kids,” she whispers, tilting her chin toward Wesley's room.

I don't answer.

“She left you speechless. That's new,” Tessa teases.

“Shut up, idiot.”

“He named a dragon after her, Iris. Wesley doesn't name his dragons. That's love.”

“He's two. He names everything. Yesterday he named a rock,” I argue.

“The rock was called 'wock,'” Zoe reminds me. “This is very different.”

Dinner is full of noise, like always, but the good kind. Tessa made roast chicken with potatoes and a salad I'm not touching because it's got too much kale. They've put Wes's high chair between us and I can't stop watching Paula cut his chicken into tiny pieces so he can eat.

We talk about soccer, like we almost always do. The next game. Hades's new high-press system. Tina and her solid practices these past weeks. The songs we'll play in the locker room to get hyped.

After dinner, Wesley falls asleep in Zoe's arms while Tessa cleans up and Paula helps. I stay on the couch with a glass of wine and a dumb grin on my face.

“Hades has been analyzing tape on the bottom team in the league for weeks,” Zoe says out of nowhere.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It's weird.”

“Hades is weird. That's part of her charm.”

“Yeah, well.”

She doesn't say anything else, but we both know what it means. She's scouting a new player.

***

“Today was a good day,” I say when we get home.

“Yeah, it was.”

“I want more like this,” I admit, lowering my voice. “By the way, I saw you talking to Alex Drummond at the club today, and she looked tense.”

“She always does,” Paula says, brushing it off.