The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“You will soon enough. When I started at the architecture firm, I found myself asking tons of questions of the contractors I’d work with. Looking back, I realize I was more interested in that job than the one I was hired to do, from the very beginning.”

I smiled. “I asked a million questions of the Director of Analytics the other day.”

“What does he do, exactly?”

“He keeps all the statistics the coaches use to manage the players and prepare for games against each opponent.”

“I guess that’s up your alley?”

I tapped the three-ring binder sitting on my lap. I’d been jotting things down in it all day. “I’ve started working on an algorithm that predicts game stats, just for fun, in my spare time. I’m better with numbers than people.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re doing pretty well right now.”

He seemed like a sweet-enough guy, but I needed to stay focused on the team, and talking to him kept me from tracking the stats I wanted to record. So a little while later, I excused myself and went to go sit with my grandfather. I learned more spending a quarter and a half next to him than I had reading a hundred books on football over the last two years.

When the game was over, I’d started to wheel him from the row when Christian Knox appeared on the sideline directly beneath us.

He banged on the backstop wall. “Nice shirt, old man!”

“I’m going to use it as a rag when I get home,” my grandfather yelled. “By the way, you looked great out there today… Oh wait, that wasn’t you who led the team to victory. It was the guy gunning for your job.”

Christian clutched his chest. “Low blow, Coach. Low blow.”

The two men smiled. Christian lifted his chin to me. “What’s going on, boss lady?”

“Not much. Just got more of an education on the sport of football in an hour than I did over the last two years trying to learn it on my own.”

“It’s annoying as hell, isn’t it? I think I know it all until I sit with him. You guys sticking around for a while?” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I gotta run to the post-game meeting. But I can grab the PT van from Doc and give you a ride home, if you want, Coach.” He looked at me. “It’s wheelchair accessible, and they don’t care when I take it to drive him.”

My grandfather put a finger up. “I’ll take the ride. Lenny Riddler dropped me off, but I know his daughter is in town, so I’d rather not make him go out of his way again.” He pointed to Christian. “You, on the other hand, I don’t mind wasting your time.”

Christian laughed. “You guys going to be around here?”

“Actually,” I said, “I have some friends up in the owner’s box. Why don’t you meet us there?”

He nodded. “Will do.”



***



Forty-five minutes later, Christian strolled into the owner’s box carrying three pizzas. He winked at me. “Thought you might be hungry.”

I shook my head with a smile. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

He grinned. “Probably not.”

Miller and his boyfriend walked over, with Travis in tow. I could see the stars in their eyes, so I made the introductions. “Christian, this is my friend Miller, his boyfriend, Trent, and Trent’s brother, Travis.”

Christian shook everyone’s hand.

“I’m a huge fan,” Miller said.

“Yes, huge fan.” I rolled my eyes. “He asked me what inning we were in earlier.”

Christian chuckled. “Well, at least they stock these things with alcohol and food.”

Miller leaned down and picked up a serving dish full of hors d’oeuvres. “Not just food. Caviar and champagne. If I had known this is how games were, I might have tried out for the football team instead of the badminton team.”

“Um…you didn’t actually try out for the badminton team,” I reminded him. “You were the water boy because you had the hots for the twenty-five-year-old coach.”

Miller waved me off. “We don’t need to be all technical now…”

I took the pizza boxes from Christian with a laugh. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

“She drinks Mike’s Hard Lemonade,” Miller said. “I had to smuggle them into the stadium. I figured they didn’t stock them in their fancy wine fridges up here.”

Christian looked amused. “I don’t think I’ve had one of those things since high school. But I’ll take one.”

Travis turned his head and sneezed. He was five feet away from me and covered his mouth, yet I held my breath and started to count anyway. Miller caught what I was doing and smirked, while Christian glanced back and forth between us.

“What am I missing here?” he said.

I pointed to Miller since I hadn’t reached fifteen yet.

He rocked back and forth on his heels. “She holds her breath for fifteen seconds after people sneeze.”

Christian’s smile was crooked. “Why?”

“Germs.”

Christian chuckled, but didn’t pursue it further.

For the next half hour, my guests pretty much formed a circle around Christian. If he minded, no one would ever have known it. He was gracious as could be. At one point, he excused himself to go to the bathroom, and when he came out, I was packing up my things.