Page 8 of Full Contact

“I thought we settled that he was handsome. Your guests reached a consensus.”

“You were very interested in your brisket and didn’t vote,” he said.

“It was excellent.”

“I sent you the video because you looked happy, you know.”

I looked at him. He had one hand on the door, waiting.

“It was a good wedding.”

“Yes. I gave a wonderful speech. You can compliment that separately.”

I laughed.

“I enjoyed talking to him,” I said.

“I noticed.”

“Apparently you’ve conducted a full investigation.”

“No. I was at the next table. Neither of you noticed me for twenty minutes.” He opened the door. “That almost never happens.”

“I’m sure it was painful.”

“I had to talk to other people and ask about their lives.”

“Good night, Varga.”

“Think of me next time.”

I carried the brisket to my car, still smiling.

The drive home was quiet. I’d had a good evening. I liked those people, and I liked being able to leave while I was still enjoying them.

At home I put the brisket in the refrigerator and checked Peaches’s water. She was asleep in the middle of my bed.

“Good news,” I told her. “We’re still famous.”

She opened one eye, then closed it.

I got ready for bed and slid in beside her. There was enough room once I moved my pillow. A few minutes later, she stretched until her back rested against my side.

***

The next morning, I had most of the weight room to myself.

I liked the Performance Center in July. There were enough people around for company if I wanted it, but nobody was waiting for my equipment or calling us into a meeting. I could hear the plates settle on the weight rack after each set and the distant thump of a medicine ball from the other end of the room.

At thirty-six, with another season on defense ahead of me, I couldn’t afford to take the summer off. I liked feeling strong and enjoyed the steady work of getting ready for a season. My knees usually needed a longer warm-up than they had at twenty-two, and the strength coach had opinions about my mobility that I was tired of hearing.

I worked through the program, drank most of a bottle of water, and finished with my forearms shaking. For ninety minutes I’d thought about nothing except my routine. By the end, I felt good and wanted lunch.

Holloway was on a bike near the door. He pulled out an earbud as I passed.

“Question. My niece’s birthday is in August. Does Peaches do appearances?”

“What’s your budget?”