The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland

I smiled sadly. “That’s a question I’ve given a lot of thought, since it was a source of contention in my relationship. I think I work a lot because I’ve always had to. I’m dyslexic, so ever since elementary school, I’ve had to put in extra time. A reading assignment that might take my friends twenty minutes could take me an hour or two, so I’m sort of trained to expect to do more. I also have a tendency to overanalyze everything to death, which can be time consuming, and I’m super competitive—at times obnoxiously so. But I love my business, and I enjoy watching it grow from what I put into it. That said, I actually did hire a director of operations four months ago, so I can work less if I want to. My mom is getting older and lives down in Florida, and I want to be able to go visit her more often. And I love to travel. I also thought it would make Gabriel happy, but you already know how that’s worked out.”

“Nothing wrong with working a lot if you love what you do. You probably wouldn’t be where you are if you didn’t put in the time. I definitely wouldn’t.”

“Thanks.”

“And being competitive is good. It pushes you to do better.”

I shook my head. “My friends won’t even play board games with me anymore, and I’m banned from the Easter egg hunt in my mom’s retirement community because of…” I raised my hands and made air quotes. “…an incident with a super-sensitive nine-year-old I accidentally made cry.”

Max grinned. “That bad, huh?”

I rubbed my finger over the condensation on the bottom of my glass. “I’m working on finding the right balance. I even went to a four-day meditation retreat a few months ago to learn how to relax.”

“How did that go?”

My lip twitched. “I left a day early.”

Max chuckled. “What about family? Lot of siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child. My parents had me late in life. They married at thirty and agreed to not have children beforehand. My dad had a vasectomy shortly after their wedding. Then at forty-two, my mom got pregnant. Turns out, a vasectomy isn’t a hundred-percent foolproof. They cut the man’s vas deferens, but in rare cases the pieces can grow back and reconnect. It’s called recanalization.”

“Holy shit.” Max shifted in his seat.

I laughed. “Did you just squeeze your legs together?”

“Damn right I did. Mention cutting anything down there and my body jumps into protective mode. How did your parents take that news in their forties?”

“My mom said it was a shock, but when she went to her first appointment and heard the heartbeat, she knew it was meant to be. My dad, on the other hand, wasn’t as elated. He had a terrible childhood and had his own reasons for not wanting a family. So he went off and had an affair with a woman who had her tubes tied, and my parents wound up getting divorced when I was two. I’m not very close with my father.”

“I’m sorry.”

I smiled. “Thank you. But there’s nothing to be sorry about, even though it may sound like it when I tell the abbreviated version. My mom is super mom, so I never felt like I missed much. She retired to Florida two years ago. And I did see my dad growing up. What about you? Big family?”

“I’m the youngest of six. All boys.” He shook his head. “My poor mom. We broke every piece of furniture at least once horsing around over the years.”

“Ah…like your sister-in-law’s chair?”

“Exactly.”

“Earlier, when I asked if you lived with your mother, you said you didn’t even live in the same state. So are you not from New York?”

“Nope. Originally from Washington state, but I haven’t lived there in a long time—left home when I was sixteen to live with a host family to play hockey in Minnesota. Then moved to the East Coast to play for Boston University, and then on to New York to play for the Wolverines.”

“What’s that like? Being a professional athlete, I mean.”

Max shrugged. “I get to play a game I love for a living. It’s pretty much a dream. People call Disney the greatest place on earth. I’ll take the locker room after a win any day of the week.”

“What’s the downside? Even the best jobs have one.”

“Well, losing definitely sucks. My team has done a lot of it the last two years. When I was first drafted, they were a team on the rise. We made the playoffs my rookie year, but between player injuries and bad trades, the last few have been tough. It’s called a team because you need more than a few guys to be having a good year. Other than that, the travel can be a lot. A season is eighty-two games, and that’s without playoffs. Almost half are on the road. I think I see the team dentist more than I do the inside of my own apartment.”

“Wow, yeah. That’s a lot of travel.”

Max had ordered a rum and Coke and a water. I’d figured he needed to hydrate after the game. But I noticed he hadn’t touched the alcohol yet, and we’d been sitting long enough for his ice to melt. Pointing to the smaller glass, I said, “You haven’t touched your drink.”

“I don’t drink alcohol when I have practice or a game the next day.”

My brows furrowed. “So why did you order a rum and Coke?”

“I didn’t want you to not order a drink because I wasn’t.”