Page 19 of Playing to Win
A small house with tan siding, black shutters, and a red front door sat nestled in the shade of a huge oak tree. Well, as much shade as the setting sun provided. An old, weathered swing hung from the rafters of the porch and an empty flower pot sat by the front door.
“I keep buying him flowers to put in the damn thing but he keeps killing them,” she said, giving the empty pot a haphazard kick. “I don’t understand why he just won’t put water in the pot. It’s not that hard, right?”
Kyle brushed her cheek with the knuckles of his fingers and was surprised when she didn’t move away. “Probably because you’re not here to check and make sure he’s doing it, Curly. You’ve probably been watching over him your whole life, if I’m guessing.”
“Nah,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m just trying to keep this place looking nice, so maybe he can finally find himself a lady and the place will stop smelling like hot dogs and aftershave.”
“I mean, that’s fair. Rarely have I met a woman who likes the smell of hot dogs. Maybe I should mention how much I like to garden? Think it might help?”
“Look at you, already trying to win some brownie points,” she said.
Kyle held up his hand. “Guilty.”
Callie graced him with a sweet smile. “It might earn you a few. Now remember, I told him you were coming, but I don’t think he actually believed me. So if he acts a little,” Curly did the crazy sign with her finger up to her temple, “I told you I could not be held responsible.”
“We shall see about that. I might just hold you to another date.”
“I told you I don’t date athletes,” she said, but not before Kyle saw her hide a smile behind her hand. Curly opened the front door into what could only be described as a veritable bachelor’s pad. An old couch sat flush against the wall right when you walked in the door and faced a massive sixty-inch flat screen. A brand new over-sized recliner was sitting catty-corner to the TV and an old, chipped coffee table was in the middle of the room on top of a worn oriental rug that covered a big portion of the hardwood floors.
Pictures of Callie were on every available surface. In her graduation cap and gown from high school, a big smile on her face. A gap-toothed grin on a wild-haired elementary school aged Callie. A woman who was the spitting image of Callie holding a baby with a head of white curls in a blanket at the hospital. Callie as a toddler on the beach, her chubby belly sticking out of a polka-dotted bikini, laughing wildly as a wave curled around her toes.
In addition to photos, awards and plaques hung everywhere. Valedictorian plaque. Regent’s scholar plaque. All-state basketball plaque. “Dang, Curly. An athlete and a smartie. Tell me why you needed help studying again?” he asked, brushing his hands over the photos and awards hanging on the wall behind the couch.
“I told him to take all that stuff down,” she said sheepishly. “It’s so ridiculous he still has all of it.”
“Now there’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s a proud dad wanting to show off his daughter.”
“I’m twenty-one years old. You’d think they would have been on his walls long enough.”
“I agree. I think he needs to give me this one. It definitely needs to come down.” Kyle took down the picture of Callie where she was probably in junior high. She sported braces, glasses, a “Vote for Pedro” t-shirt, and some really bad makeup.
“Give me that!” Callie yelled, trying in vain to grab the picture he now held ransom over his head.
“I don’t think so. I think this one’s going in my collection.”
“It most certainly is not going in your collection!”
“I don’t know about that, kid. I think I might be willing to give it to him, if given the right circumstances.” Callie’s dad stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a can of beer in his hand and a smile on his face. He was a tall man, which was the reason Kyle now realized Callie stood almost six feet. Max Thompson stood around six foot three or four with broad shoulders and strong arms.
“Daddy!” Picture forgotten, Callie ran to her dad and launched herself into his arms.
“Hey, Sunshine!”
“Daddy, you wouldn’t give him that picture, would you?” Callie punched her father playfully in the arm and batted her eyelashes.
“Well, Sunshine, seeing as I specifically told you not to wear makeup for the picture and you decided to do it anyway—”
“All of my friends were wearing makeup!”
“I wasn’t all your friends’ dad! I was yours! And you were fourteen! I had said no makeup. But no, you had to go sneak off and—”
“Nana gave it to me.”
”What?”
“Nana gave it to me. She said it was about time I started acting like a girl. So she gave me the makeup. She obviously didn’t realize I didn’t know how to put it on,” Callie told him with a giggle.
Callie’s dad looked up at the ceiling. “Mom! When I get up there, we are going to have us a big talk!”
“Nevertheless,” he said with a wink at Kyle, “I still think Mr. Kelly here gets to keep the picture. After all, he is our guest. The picture’s yours. I’m sure I have another copy of it somewhere, anyway.”
