“That doesn’t really answer the question.”
“It was pretty obvious from the time I started talking that I was different from my brothers. At first they thought it was a ‘being the baby and mama’s boy’ kind of thing, but I’m just...different. Then I started school and I was a little different from most of those boys, too. Then I was a nerd.” He stopped when he looked up from the leftover baked goods he was wrapping in plastic wrap and saw her face. “Should I stop telling this story? You look like you want to punch somebody in the face.”
“I do... But, no, you shouldn’t stop.”
“Okay. I realized that whether a guy was six or sixteen or sixty, he could always talk to other guys about sports. No matter where I went, I saw men—some of whom were strangers to each other—talking about sports.”
“So you started following sports.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, because he could see it on her face, “but I honestly love the games. The strategies and statistics combined with luck and athletic performance is fascinating to me.”
“But it also made you feel more like your father and your brothers?”
He shrugged. “I’ll never be like them, but I was able to be part of their conversations. I could sit at the supper table and argue about who had the best chance to win the Series just like they did.”
“Well, today was definitely a side of you I hadn’t seen before.”
“I’m with people who share a love for sports and are watching a game. If they also shared a love for model railroading, you’d see that side of me then, too.”
The way she was looking at him gave him an urge to squirm, just as his elementary school teachers’ looks had. Maybe Tori had missed her true calling. “That’s why, when you talked to Jeanette at the diner, you opened with sports. Because it’s instant camaraderie.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Of course it’s not, since you really love sports. But it’s a rather different side of you, so make sure she likes both sides.”
“Let’s watch a movie.”
She must have recognized his signal that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, because she shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could see if My Fair Lady is on streaming.”
“Ha, ha. Action or horror.”
“Drama?”
She made a face. “Depends on the drama.”
“Let me finish this up and we’ll see what’s on.”
She helped him finish the kitchen and he said nothing when she loaded the dishwasher differently than he usually did. It was nice to have somebody to talk to, which was what he’d been hoping to achieve when he went to the diner the first time.
Meeting a friend like Tori was the unexpected bonus. He stopped wiping the counter and frowned. That was something to take into consideration. If he was going to have a serious relationship with a woman, she’d not only have to not mind having her living room occasionally overrun by sports fan, but she’d have to like Tori.
“Are you trying to set the toaster on fire with your eyes?” Tori nudged him in the side. “That only works in the movies, you know.”
“I was thinking about something.”
“I could tell. Something serious?”
Guessing she might think it was ridiculous for him to factor how a woman felt about Tori into the equation, he shook his head. “Nothing serious.”
She looked skeptical, but didn’t push. “If you’re trying to find a way to twist my arm into watching an old musical, don’t even try.”
In the end, he let her have her choice because he was a gentleman and she was company, so they watched The Avengers. He didn’t bother to tell her he’d seen it many times already, and he laughed when she quoted some of the dialogue just ahead of the actors. She’d seen it a few times herself.
He didn’t mind. There were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than watching a favorite movie with Tori.
Chapter Twelve
Late Tuesday morning, Tori punched her time card at the diner, then went back out front to grab a soda in a to-go cup. She’d stayed up very late working, so the early morning phone call from Drew had been unwelcome. The explanation of morning sickness, complete with background noises, had been worse. She’d jumped at the chance to work Liz’s shift just to get off the phone.
She was seriously dragging now, though, and she knew no matter how much soda she drank, there was a nap in her near future.
“Thanks again for coming in,” Paige said. With her dark hair in a ponytail and the same Trailside Diner T-shirt they all wore, nobody would guess Paige was married to a guy with a bunch of money.
Mitch Kowalski owned a controlled demolition company that imploded big buildings all over the world, which apparently paid well. But the diner was Paige’s pride and joy and, even after they married and had Sarah, Paige had no interest in walking away from it.