Page 10 of Librarian for the Jock

Chapter Ten

CHET

As I got ready to head over to Brad's place for dinner, there was a lot on my mind. Okay, Paige was on my mind. I couldn’t shake the nervous energy buzzing through me. Finding out that Paige was Brad's sister, the same girl whose jewelry Brad and I had "borrowed" for our pirate game all those years ago, had been a shock to the system. It’s crazy how much the mind lets us forget.

I was just a kid back then, caught up in the thrill of our adventure. I never considered for even a second we could lose any of the items we borrowed, never mind the consequences of their loss. I doubt that would have stopped us, though, even if it had occurred to us. Now, as an adult, I understood the value of what was lost—not just in dollars but in sentiment, and I felt terrible. I wished I could make it right, but ultimately I couldn’t come up with anything, even after racking my brain. I decided to keep thinking about it.

Brad and I were already throwing around a football when Paige and her kids showed up. At first, she wouldn’t even look in my direction and I could feel the chill, even from a distance. I was grateful for the distraction of football and her cheerful teenage son. I decided to enjoy the moment and deal with the drama later.

As Lexi, Brad's adorable 3-year-old daughter, came running up to us, her eyes widened at the sight of me without a shirt. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her innocent curiosity.

"Dinner's ready, Mommy says!" she announced, her tiny, but somehow big, voice filled with excitement.

I smiled down at her, then crouched down to her level. "Thanks for letting us know, Lexi. We'll be right in," I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

Then, with the innocence only a child could possess, she looked up at me with wide eyes. "You don't look like Daddy. Daddy has a fat tummy," she said solemnly.

Brad, who was jogging over after retrieving the ball, paused mid-stride, his face a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

“Lexi, Daddy is busy working at a desk all day long to take care of you and Mommy. Uncle Chet needs to be in top physical shape for his job as a professional football player. Do you want Daddy to look like Uncle Chet?”

Lexi squints, thinking really hard. “Hmmm…no. If you looked like Uncle Chet, I don’t think you would be as soft to sleep on. Uncle Chet looks too hard. I like the way you are now. I love you, Daddy.”

Brad gives Lexi a big sweaty hug, “Baby Girl, I love you too.”

Lexi seemed satisfied with their conversation and skipped back toward the house. Brad let out a sigh and a relieved chuckle. He shook his head, “Lexi is the sweetest thing and loves my soft tummy, but my doctor is starting to get on my case to lose some weight. He said for my age I shouldn’t be this big. Our little football workout today was great for me, but I will probably feel it tomorrow.”

I thumped his shoulder “Take it slow, man. It all starts with more movement in your day. A desk job and yummy treats from co-workers would get to my stomach, too. While I’m here, let's get moving every day.”

“That would be awesome! Chet, you are the best.”

We high fived, grabbed our water bottles, and started toward the house. I suddenly turned to Brandon and yelled, “Catch!”

We started tossing the football casually between the three of us as we walked. I’m always amazed at the raw talent some kids have, and Brandon definitely has the knack for the game. He is impressively quick on his feet—must run in the family.

"Hey, Brandon, you've got some serious moves, man. Ever thought about taking football seriously?" I asked, genuinely curious. His eyes lit up at the compliment from a professional player.

He grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Thanks, Chet. You're not too bad yourself for an 'old guy'," he replied, and we all laughed.

"You should've seen your uncle here back in high school.” I nodded toward Brad. I think he could have gone all the way if he hadn't decided on a safer job."

Brad shrugged, a bit embarrassed but also flattered. "Well, life takes you in different directions. After hurting my knee in college, a safer job seemed like a better choice."

Brandon caught the ball easily, “Honestly, Chet, I mean, coming from you, a compliment like that means a lot. I really want to play for my school team but my Mom won’t let me, for that very reason. She remembers what happened to Uncle Brad," he said, hugging the ball and looking at the ground.

I nodded. “I understand completely, Brandon. Football can be dangerous and I’ve had my share of injuries. You can play smarter so you get hurt less, but there are no guarantees.”

“Oh, yes! Chet could teach you a trick or two," Brad chimed in.

I smiled. "Definitely. If you ever want some tips, just let me know. It’s all about practice and, well, listening to your mom about staying safe," I added, remembering Paige’s protective nature.

"Did Mom ever watch you guys play?" Brandon asked, intrigued by the idea of his mom and football.

“Your Uncle Brad can answer that question better than me, I honestly don’t remember.”

"Not really,” Brad said. “Me and Chet got more serious about football in high school and your Mom was already in college by then. She was never interested in sports; she preferred her books.”

Brandon nodded his agreement. “That’s what I thought. Her eyes always seem to glaze over when I start talking about football.” He tossed the football from hand to hand.

“Hey, Chet, do you think you can convince my mom to let me try out for the football team this coming school year?”

I paused for a moment, not sure how to answer Paige’s son. “I can’t make any promises, but I’m willing to try, maybe with Brad’s help. We’ll work on improving your skills first and getting your uncle out of the house at the same time. Let’s see if we can come up with a training plan. But we have to get through dinner first.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, Chet!” He jogged ahead of us, so excited that he looked like he could have floated the rest of the way to the house.

“Chet, thank you. Brandon has been struggling with the desire to play and his mother’s stubbornness. I’ve attempted many times to get her to change her mind and she keeps saying, ‘Look at you, Brad, No!’”

“I am not making any promises but at least I can show her that not everyone gets hurt playing football if you play smart.”

In the back of my mind I was wondering how on earth I could possibly convince a woman who didn’t seem to like me to do something she clearly didn’t want to do. But, I figured at least it would give me another opportunity to talk to her. Brandon really did seem incredibly talented, so it would be worth it to help him if I could.

Brandon turned at the door. “You are the best, man! Gosh, I’m hungry. Let’s eat!”

No argument here!