Quarterback Draw

“I disagree. I think you being here is making him nervous enough.”

Grant laughed. “He’s going to do just fine, and you worry too much.”

Grant marked off a hundred yards, and set a starting point for Leo while her brother finished his warm-ups.

“You ready?” Grant asked.

Leo nodded.

“Don’t strain anything,” Anya said, pulling up a spot on the ground at the makeshift finish line. “You might need your groin for something important someday.”

“Bite me,” Leo said.

Katrina shook her head, more anxious than she should be.

“Okay,” Grant said, stopwatch in hand. “Let’s see what you’ve got. You ready?”

Leo nodded.

“Okay, on the count of three. Three, two, one, go.”

Leo shot off the mark. He looked so fast to her, but she knew nothing about this other than races she’d seen on television. When he finished, Grant clicked the stopwatch and looked at the time. Leo made the trek back.

“Not bad, kid.”

Leo came around and looked at the stopwatch. “Really? That’s my time?”

“It is. Faster than you thought you’d be, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Leo grinned.

“You put some muscle on, it’ll propel you even more. And you need a haircut. You look more like a beat boy than a football player.” Grant ruffled his hair.

Leo actually blushed, then smiled. “Yeah, okay.”

Katrina was stunned. “You’ve agreed to a haircut? I’ve been after you for months about this.”

“But you’re not the great Grant Cassidy,” Anya said, pulling herself to her feet. “So you have no stock.”

“Apparently not.”

“Come on, Leo,” Anya said. “Let’s go fix some iced tea.”

Leo seemed reluctant, until Anya grabbed his shirtsleeve and pulled him along.

“We’ll meet you upstairs.”

Katrina had no idea what kind of scheme Anya was cooking up, but before she knew it, her siblings had disappeared, leaving her and Grant alone in the gym.

She turned to face him. “Again, thanks for doing this for Leo. I really had no idea he hated lacrosse, or that he still wanted to play football.”

“Kids don’t tell their parents—or in this case, you—what’s on their minds half the time. They think you won’t care. And if you shot him down on the football thing years ago, he likely figured you wouldn’t give it a thumbs-up now, either.”

She sat on one of the weight benches. “This is hard.”

He took a seat next to her. “Of course it’s hard. Plus, they don’t make it any easier on you. They’re teenagers, and they’re sullen and moody and given an opening, they’ll take advantage. Or they’ll make everything seem like it’s your fault.”

She turned her head to look at him. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed. “I have no idea. But I’ve been a teenager, and we all ganged up on our parents. I just know all the moves.”

“You do, huh? Care to take on a couple of difficult ones? I’ll gladly turn them over to you since you seem to be their hero today. You can give them back when they’re adults.”

“No, thanks. And they just like me because I don’t have to tell them to do their homework or give them curfews or tell them no. Trust me, if I had to do that, they’d give me shit, too.”

“Probably.”

He laid his hand on her leg. “Cut yourself some slack, Katrina. They’re really great kids. They’re smart and funny and they ask excellent questions. But they’re also very respectful. You’ve done a good job raising them.”

Their teachers and other parents had always been complimentary of Leo and Anya, for which she was grateful. But it was nice to hear Grant give her positive feedback. So often she felt like she was flying blind.

“Thanks. I’ve done my best, and I freely admit I’ve had to leave them in the care of nannies and au pairs while I traveled. I tried to hire exceptional ones. And I’ve tried to be here for them as much as I could.”

“You’re only one person. You’ve worked your ass off to be both mother and father and breadwinner. You can’t do it all, ya know.”

“I had to. Who else was going to do it? Someone has to be here to make sure they’re taken care of.”

He brushed her hair away from her face. “Yeah? And who’s been here to take care of you?”