Page 18 of 2-Point Conversion
“Well, I can’t fuck you on their porch. There are laws about that sort of thing. Though…” I pretend to consider the merits of such an idea, “I do have a nice ass.” Shaking my head as he laughs, I lift a shoulder and point to the front door. “I guess we’ll just have to get on with it.”
With a deep breath, Oscar knocks on the front door of his parent’s home. I give him a quizzical look wondering why he’s knocking. “I always do. One time I surprised them during my sophomore year of college and let’s say we were all a little scarred after that harrowing experience.”
An older woman answers the door, with a welcoming and affectionate smile. It’s clear to see the resemblance between her and Oscar. “My boys!” She crows, throwing open the screen door and rushing out. I’ve never met her, but she bypasses her son’s open arms and engulfs me in a hug. Over her head, I catch Oscar’s fallen expression and the way his bottom lip sticks out. “Oh, you are more handsome than you are on TV. And strong. So, so, so strong.” She’s rubbing my upper arms with a bit more enthusiasm than I was expecting.
“Mom!” Oscar nudges her aside with his hip and wraps both arms around me and a leg over my hip. “He’s mine!”
“Sorry.” She holds up both hands in surrender, but winks at me. It was all in fun to get Oscar to focus on something other than hisnerves. At least I hope so, or I’ll have to watch out for her roving hands.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kusner.”
Her hands gesticulate wildly. “Nope, none of that. Call me Mom. Welcome to the family.”
I exchange a look with Oscar. The tension in his body ebbs while I fight back tears. My mom died almost 20 years ago from an aneurysm. My dad has been in a home for nearly a decade with early onset Alzheimer’s. Her death nearly destroyed him and me, but his mind started deteriorating a few years after and he begged me to find him a nice place and live my life without looking back. That was ridiculous, and not something I was ever gonna do, but I did find him a great facility, and I visit him several times a year. Sometimes he remembers me, sometimes he doesn’t. In fact, after the school year is over, I’ll be taking Oscar with me so they can meet.
“Come in, come in.”Momwaves us inside and I’m instantly hit with the smells of something delicious.
“Mom, is that…”
She smiles wide and triumphant. “Yup! Barbeque chip chop ham and company potatoes.”
“If I’d known you’d make that for lunch, I’d have brought him to meet you sooner. How come when I come to visit, I get meatloaf?”
A tall man steps into the foyer and greets me with a friendly smile and a hearty handshake. Oscar is a cross between his parents, not as tall as his dad, darker hair than his mom, but he has his dad’s eyes and his mom’s grin.
“Should I call you,Dad?”
“Mr. Kusner is perfectly acceptable,” he replies drily. I swallow hard and open my mouth to apologize when the three of them start laughing. I join them with a shake of my head. He glances between me and his son who is tucked under my arm. “Dad works. Now, come talk football with me while they finish lunch.”
We sit in the living room, watching highlights from the national championship, talking players, coaches, and NFL prospects. I turn to look in the direction of where I assume the kitchen is when I hear Oscar screeching with laughter. My lips tip into a tender smile listening to the joy in his voice.
“Thank you.” I turn back to meet his dad’s pensive gaze. “Brandon, I…thank you.” I give him time to figure out what he wants to say, based on his tone I know it’s something serious. My chest tightens in anticipation, even though he’s thanking me, I’m still expecting the worst.
“Thank you for loving my son the way he deserves.”
I wasn’t expecting that. Throat tight, I nod once and force the words past my lips. “No need to thank me, sir, loving your son is my greatest pleasure.”