“It’s not a shrine,” Kathleen scoffed. “What do you want us to do with the trophies and awards you and Gavin won? Box them up and throw them in the attic?”
“Actually, that’s a great idea. I can take care of that while I’m here.”
Kathleen waved her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to Nathan and Tara. “Would you like to see them?”
“Yeah!” Nathan said.
“I’d love to see them.” Tara stood.
Mick pulled at her hand. “You don’t have to go see them.”
“I want to.”
“Ugh.”
She laughed and followed Kathleen upstairs.
Mick was right. It was like a shrine, but it was very sweet. There were trophies and pennants dating back to grade school. Everything from peewee football and T-ball all the way to the awards both the brothers had won in college, tucked away in what looked to be a room now used as an office, since there was also a desk and a computer.
The pride on Mick’s parents’ faces was evident as they stood by and beamed while they pointed out what each of the guys had won each particular trophy for. Mick, meanwhile, just looked damned uncomfortable, which Tara also found incredibly charming. There were also trophies for Jenna for gymnastics, dance, field hockey, and softball.
Clearly an athletic family.
“Wow. All your stuff is just bangin’ awesome,” Nathan said, ogling Mick’s college awards. “You worked hard, huh?”
“I did.”
“He also maintained a three-point-eight grade point average at the University of Texas,” Kathleen said. “We were more proud of his grades than we were of all the trophies in this room.”
Tara mouthed a silent thank-you to Kathleen over the top of Nathan’s head. Kathleen winked.
“Yeah, but you don’t really need to worry about that once you make money playing football.”
Mick slung his arm over Nathan’s shoulders. “Not true, my man. You gotta have the smarts to get into college in the first place. They might want to draft a decent player, but they don’t want someone who’s going to struggle to make the grades, because it makes their job harder. Second, do you know how many football players piss away all the money they make in the NFL, and then when their careers are over they end up dead broke?”
Tara and Mick’s parents followed Mick and Nathan down the stairs. Tara listened intently to the conversation, determined to let Mick do all the talking.
“No.”
“More than you think. A lot more than you think. You need to put all you effort into your grades and into using your head first, because you’ll use up your body fast. And when that’s done, you’ll have to have something to do after. If you blow out a knee your second season, you’ll be what? Twenty something years old with your whole life ahead of you. You don’t want to be a dumb-a— you don’t want to be dumb and stupid with no education and no money, right?”
Nathan looked up at him. “Huh. I never thought about that.”
Mick slapped him on the back. “A lot of guys don’t. Always use your head, not just your muscle. The smart guys always do.”
Nathan tilted his head back to look at Mick, and Tara’s breath caught at the abject hero worship.
She hoped he listened to what Mick said about using his brain. Because Nathan was a smart kid. And his grades were good. She hoped and prayed they stayed that way and he didn’t count on football to see him through life.
“So where’s your brother?” Nathan asked.
“He has a game tonight,” Mick answered. “He’ll be by later, I imagine. Or at the bar.” Mick lifted his gaze to his mother.
“I talked to him this morning. He’ll come by for the party at the bar tomorrow night. He’s busy tonight.”
“Got a hot date?” Mick asked.
Kathleen laughed. “I have no idea. Neither of you are very forthcoming about your love lives. Though I’m very pleased you brought Tara and Nathan with you this weekend. A step in the right direction.”
Kathleen took a seat on the sofa next to Tara. “So tell me about yourself, Tara. Are you from San Francisco?”
She swallowed, sensing the inquisition forthcoming.
“Hey kid, let me show you the workshop out back,” Jimmy said. “Mick, you can come along. Nathan and I might even kick your butt in a game of hoops.”
“In your dreams, old man.” He turned to Tara and winked.
Tara knew it was get-to-know-his-mother time. She returned her gaze to Kathleen. “I grew up in the East Bay, outside San Francisco. Never lived in the city. Too expensive there.”
“And your ex-husband?”
“I was never married. Nathan’s father isn’t in our lives.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m sorry about that. So what do you do for a living?”
That was it? No probing or disapproval for being a single mother? Huh. Not what she expected. “I’m an event planner. That’s actually how I met your son. I planned a party for the team.”
Kathleen clapped her hands together. “How delightful. And what a fun career for you. You must enjoy that very much.”