Chilly, October mornings like this are ones I crave and loathe at the same time. I crave it because I love fall. It's my favorite season out of all four due to the craziness of Halloween and the dramatic drop of temperature. But I loathe it because of chilly, October, Saturday mornings like this one in which we all, well the twins and I, get up around eight in order to get to their soccer game on time.
Eight o'clock wouldn't be so bad for someone who slept all night, but when Tony is out practically all night, I have to stay up until he comes home. And last night turned into a two a.m, shopping channel night for me, but at least he wasn't drunk, and we won't have to go retrieve his car later on.
I pull into a parking space unfortunately far from the soccer fields, but we are running just a few minutes behind this morning. I shoo the boys out of the car, wanting them to go warm up as soon as possible. I watch them run off to the fields. I sit in the car a minute longer, willing my eyes to stay open at least for the next hour or so. I finally open the driver's door and shuffle out of the car. I grab a blanket and slowly make my way to the entrance.
I find a seat on the small sets of bleachers when I realize how many times I sit on bleachers during the week.
The boys and I only attend Tony's home games because I don't really want to drive an hour there and an hour back. On the other hand, the twins always play at the same place every Saturday morning, so there's no way I get out of that one.
I shiver when a blast of cold air hits my face, even though I've got my hood tucked up and over my ears. I wrap the blanket around me and watch the boys warm up. I wonder how none of them are freezing cold because they have less clothes on than I do. I have on jeans, a long-sleeve shirt with a hoodie, and thick socks on, while they have on shorts and t-shirts though some of them, especially mine, have long-sleeve sleeves on under their jerseys.
If they are cold, they don't act like it. They just continue to run around like they just snorted a pixie stix.
The sun starts to peak out from behind the clouds when they kick-off. Nick almost pushes a kid down while gaining the kick-off. Nick's still a little peeved at me for ruining his almost-first kiss last week, so he's been more aggressive than usual.
Technically it's my fault that kid almost hit the dirt.
But I stand firm with my decision to reprimand him. He's nine for God's sake. I'm seventeen and I still haven't kissed anyone. Trust me, he's got plenty of time, but Tony doesn't seem to see it that way because when he came home later that night he said that I should let the kid live a little.
"And what? Have him knock-up some girl when he's in high school?" I shook my head and put it in my hands. "I'm already raising them. I don't need to raise their offspring too."
"He's not going to knock-up some girl."
"If we don't set an example that his behavior is wrong now, there's a very good chance he'll think it's okay later on," I reasoned.
Tony laughed and said, "Holding hands and kissing aren't bad things, Sarah."
"I know that, but that behavior is basically a gateway drug to sex."
"And what parenting book did you read that in?" He smirked. I glared at him because at least I read them. I tried to be the best parent I could be at seventeen. "Look, Sarah, just lighten up a bit, maybe? I mean we've all been through a lot, them maybe more than us, and a little crush won't hurt him in the long run, I promise."
Tony had a point, but I still think I did the right thing by punishing him, even if it was just embarrassing him in front of his friends and not letting him watch a movie with Connor and I.
My eyes lead me to search the bench for Connor where he's stationed for, most likely, the duration of the game, but then I look at the bleachers directly behind the team bench and I see a familiar boy who's in love with my lasagna.
Jay came for this week's lasagna dinner, joining a few other football players. It was a big crowd this last week at seven people. I thought I was going to have warm up some more dinosaur nuggets for the seven us to supplement the lack of more lasagna.
But why is he here? At a pee-wee soccer league game? Oh, God, is he some kind of pervert?
I slowly approach him and quietly sit down next to him. He doesn't notice because I sat a few inches away from him as not to be too obvious. I unwrap the blanket from my shoulders and put it in my lap, then I clear my throat and say, "So are you some kind of pervert or something?"
Not many people are in this set of bleachers, thankfully they all sit in bag chairs down closer to the field, so when Jay looks at me and realizes it's me, he just says, "Um, no."
I cock my head to the side and ask, "Then why are you here? You some kind of pee-wee soccer enthusiast?"
I can see a grin pulling at his lips. "I may or may not run a pee-wee soccer blog."
I roll my eyes at him. "But really, why are you here?"
"I have a brother on the opposing team," he points to a kid out on the field. He points to a kid name Joey Green.
I quirk an eyebrow when I ask, "Really?"
"Yeah. He's learned all of his skills from me," He lies through his teeth.
I scoot closer to him. "Funny because Joey Green is an only child," I look at him and his pink cheeks, which are either from the cold or getting caught in a lie. Then I point down to a pair of women who are standing arm-in-arm against each other. "And those are his moms, Karen and Georgia."
"Did I say brother because I actually meant cousin?" Jay tries to save his lie but I just laugh in his face. Then he laughs too.
"You seriously don't think I know every kid and their parents around here? Like this is as close to a social life as I get, Jay." Another breeze blows in and I instinctively wrap the blanket around my shoulders. I glance at Jay who's taken weekend casual to a new level. He's got on some baggy sweatpants and a maroon hoodie with the school's scorpion logo on it, just like my t-shirt Tony makes me wear to his games. But even looking a little sloppy, he still looks great. The knitted hat on his head pushes his hair down so it curls up just a little at the top of his ears, and, my god, I can't take it anymore and am forced to look away.
I see his eyes, which are gray today, flick back and forth between me and the game. I wonder why he's looking at me, so when I turn to ask him, I whack my face with his. Our noses hit each other with enough force to make mine bleed. "Oh, shit!" Jay mutters. He pulls me up by my free hand and leads me down the bleachers and over to the restrooms. Even though I'm not a male, he leads me in the male restroom.
He grabs a few paper towels and holds them to my nose as I lean back my head per his instruction. I can feel the calloused skin of his hand on my cheek and the fingers splayed in my hair on the back of my head. I meet his eyes, which are filled with sympathy. "So, why are you here?" I ask even though I'm partially muffled by paper towels.
He looks away and laughs, "Is now really the time to ask questions?"
"Yes," I ask even though it comes out more like, 'Yesh.'
"I was out for a jog this morning and came across the fields. Thought I'd stop and watch a game since you said this is where the twins play." He lets go of my head, and I must admit I miss the feeling of his calloused hand on my cheek and the fingers in my hair. I straighten back up and realize the bleeding has stopped. We exit the bathroom and go back to our seats.
His explanation is plausible. The kid's been here two months and still has no idea where he is half the time he's so constantly lost and turned around. "Do you want a ride back after the game?"
He hesitates when he answers. "Actually, I thought I'd just take a path home and see where it takes me."
I shrug and check the scoreboard. The boys' team is down three goals, Connor's still on the bench, and Nick is still causing havoc out on the field to no avail. Jay and I sit in silence for the rest of the half until Jay groans and asks me, "This is how you spend every Saturday morning?"
I put my hands in sleeves and answer, "Um, yeah." I look at him while he does that thing where you pull down on your cheeks to make your eyes bug out, which is a sign of boredom I've picked up from the boys time and time again. "What? Is this not an optimal use of my time?"
"Because it's either this or take them to Chuck-e-Cheese's," I add with a bit of a pissed off tone. I mean I understand that he has no responsibilities like this. No soccer games. No dinners to make. No laundry to do. No house to clean. But he doesn't have to constantly remind me of that. He also doesn't have to complain about my responsibilities.
Trust me, I do enough of that on my own.
"Don't get mad. I just meant that aren't you tired of basically raising them on your own? You're seventeen for God's sake. You deserve to have fun, do stupid shit, not have to raise a family," he expresses.
"Unfortunately, that decision wasn't up to me. Those are the cards I was dealt and now I'm dealing with them for the majority of the foreseeable future," I pause. I look Jay in the eyes and sadly smile, "And even if I had the choice, I still would've chosen to raise them."
He gives me a genuine smile and then does something unexpected. He hugs me. It's a little awkward because we're sitting right next to each on bleachers, so we have to turn a little, but it's still great anyway. When we pull back, Jay's still smiling, even though now it's more of smirk. "You're doing a great job."
"Thanks," I say. Not many people commend me on doing my job well, or even mention it for that matter. They must think it would upset me if they mentioned anything pertaining my mom, but really I wouldn't mind it. She's been gone for a year, and she's not coming back, so I have to accept that and move on. Apparently, I'm the only one who's done those two things.
"Could you imagine Tony here right now watching a pee-wee soccer game?" I devilishly grin.
"I bet he'd still be hung-over and asleep with sunglasses on."
"I bet he would've stayed in the car and slept in there."
"That's probably more reasonable for Mr. Anthony..." Jay stops. He must not know Tony's middle name.
"Ezra," I interject. Jay stifles a laugh and continues, "That's probably more reasonable for Mr. Anthony Ezra O'Henry."
"Okay, where did Ezra come from?" Jay quirks an eyebrow.
"It was the name of some friend of my mom's when Tony was born. Supposedly, he was one of the best quarterbacks in her class when she left school to marry my dad, so she thought that might help him if he wanted to play football."
"I would have to say she was right," He says. He pokes my shoulder and asks, "So, what's your name's story?"
"Pretty clever on my dad's part actually. I was named Sarah because I was conceived in Sarasota, Florida. My mom hated it, but she had gotten to name Tony, so she didn't have much say." Jay laughs and I ask him, "Haha. Very funny. So, why are you named after a letter in the alphabet?"
He puts his hands over his heart like he's stunned I could ever be so rude. "I am not named after a letter in the alphabet, thank you very much." He glares at me and continues. "I was named after the great Jay Leno."
"A comedian? You're named after a comedian?"
"You're named after a tourist destination in Florida," He shoots back. "So we're in the same, shitty namesake group."
"You have a point, Mr. Leno," I laugh. He shakes his and looks back at the game. There's only a minute left on the clock and the boys are now down by five goals. Our team doesn't seem to be fazed by it though. I stand up and Jay does the same.
By the time the game's over, everyone is making a mass exodus for the parking lot. Jay and I step off the path and wait for the boys. Eventually, they make their appearance. Connor looks like he did when we left he's so clean. One less jersey I have to clean later! Nick, on the other hand, looks like he just came off the battlefield. He's covered in grass stains and dirt. There's a hole in sock almost the size of a fist. What energy I'm saving by not having to wash Connor's jersey will be spent on Nick's obviously.
The boys stop short when they see Jay. Connor cocks his head to the side and asks him, "Are you the one who always comes over for dinner?"
Jay smiles and put his hands in his sweatpants pockets. "That's me."
"Are you dating Sarah?" Nick asks.
"No, bud, we're just friends," Jay says.
Just friends, the phrase implants itself in my brain. I didn't seriously think the boy had any interest in me, did I? Come on, Sarah, I remind myself. Jay's cute, adorable, and other synonyms, but I'm sure every other girl in the school thinks that as well. And, seriously, did I think he'd ever want to date a girl who's raising a family? No.
I nod in agreement with Jay. Nick and Connor just shrug and follow us out to the parking lot. Once we finally make it to our car, the boys pile in while I put the blanket in the back of the car. Jay leans against the side and asks, "Would you mind if I brought a friend to dinner on Tuesday? I have to show them the lasagna."
"Sure," I say. I close the gate and lean against it facing him.
"Cool," he looks around the parking lot, almost like he's looking for his car. But he said he walked, which reminds me I should give him some directions to wherever he's going.
"If you go out onto the main road and turn left, it'll take you down to all the subdivisions, which is where I'm guessing you live, right?"
He nods. "But if you want a little more adventure, take a right and it'll take you down to the park. There's a bunch of trails. They're pretty well marked so you won't get lost."
He pushes off the car and extends his hand. I take it and shake it. I've figured out this is his signature greeting and farewell. "See you Tuesday!" Jay says as he walks off toward the main road.
I walk around and get in the driver's seat, and when I'm checking my mirrors, I notice Jay circling back to the parking spots. I watch him a little bit more and notice something that doesn't line up with his story of his walking upon the soccer fields.
He hops in his Escalade and drives out on the main road and turns left.
A huge, toothy smile spreads across my face as I realize he didn't just stumble upon the soccer fields that I had specifically mentioned the boys play at on Saturday mornings.
He came here for a reason, and that reason certainly wasn't to watch pee-wee soccer.