“I can be an adult even if you’re having problems with that right now, Neil,” she said. He scowled in response. She moved closer to his father, slipped her arms around his waist, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hello,” she said.

Neil’s arms surrounded her. “Hello,” he said, and he gave her a peck on the mouth.

“That’s not a kiss,” Drew said.

“This is private—”

“When you dragged me into it, Dad, it stopped being private.”

Father and son stared at each other over Bonnie’s head. “Fine,” Neil said. He stroked his wife’s cheek with one big hand. “I missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too.”

His dad kissed his mother—a real kiss, not that pecking at her stuff. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His parents were ignoring him, and he was happy about that. It was time for Drew to make himself scarce.

THE NEXT DAY, the Sharks beat Dallas 30–6. Drew had a pair of sacks, several tackles, and had batted down a pass. His parents were holding hands on the sidelines. He knew he was going to have to spend a little more time making sure things were fine between them when he got home, but it was great to see them at one of his games.

Instead of finding a TV camera in the third quarter and delivering his message to his mom, he crossed the tape line the grounds guys made each week on either side of where the team set up on the fifty yard line to keep spectators out of their area. She wasn’t hard to pick out of the sidelines crowd. He hugged and kissed her and rejoined the team.

Coach Stewart caught up with him a few minutes later. “I’m going to have to fine you for that, McCoy.”

“I realize that. Had to say hi to my mom.”

The coach gave him a slap on the back. “It’s good to see your parents here.” He tugged on the mouthpiece of his headset and moved off to another part of the sidelines as the offense took the field again.

Two hours later, Drew walked out of the Sharks locker room and met up with his parents.

“How about I take you out for dinner tonight? You loved John Howie Steak the last time we went there.” Drew grinned at his mom. “I’ll get you one of those caramel ganache tarts for dessert.”

“Thank you, honey, but you don’t have to do that. Your dad took me to the store this morning, and I have a roast cooking at your house. I’ll make the potatoes when I get to your place. There’s a salad, and I baked a chocolate cake.” His mom’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t leave you here without a good dinner and some leftovers for this week.”

“Mom, I’ll help you with the dishes.”

“Your dad actually loaded the dishwasher, honey.” His mom was blushing. His dad did a lot more than “load the dishwasher,” if Drew was reading the situation correctly. He did his best not to flinch.

Neil slipped his arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Come on, Son. Let’s go home.”

Derrick walked out of the locker room and came to a screeching halt. “Mama McCoy,” he said.

She let out a squeal and threw her arms around him. “Derrick, it’s so good to see you!”

His dad let out a grunt, but he reached out a hand to Derrick. “Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mr. McCoy.” Derrick shook his hand and turned to Drew. “Are you meeting us at Ruth Chris’s for dinner tonight?”

“My mom made dinner for us at my house,” Drew said.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner, Derrick? We’d love to see you, and there’s plenty to eat,” his mom said.

“Yeah, D,” Drew said. “Go get Taylor and ask him if he’d like to come over. We’ll grab a drink or something afterward.”

The Sharks had won, so the players would visit the facility to verify they were healthy on Monday morning and not be expected back to work until Wednesday morning. Many of the single Sharks could be found at some of the nightclubs in the Seattle area on home game Sunday nights as a result. Drew took it easy on the alcohol during the season, but he liked to socialize with his teammates.

Seth must have heard his name. He emerged from the locker room a minute or so later and headed toward Derrick and Drew.

“What’s up? Are we going to the steakhouse? I’m starving.”

“We’re going to Drew’s house instead,” Derrick said. “His mom is cooking, and you’re invited.”

Drew’s mom gave Seth a hug. “I baked a chocolate cake,” she said.

“I’ll be there,” Seth said. “Thank you for the invite.”

Drew’s mom was beaming. “Why don’t you invite some more of your teammates, honey?”

“I’m not sharing your chocolate cake with anyone else, Mom. Let’s get out of here,” Drew said. His dad took Bonnie’s arm and propelled her toward the parking lot.

“We’ll see you at home in about half an hour or so,” Drew called after them.

DREW, SETH, AND Derrick headed toward the team bus. They’d pick up their cars at the Sharks’ training facility. Drew hoped his mom had made a side of beef or something. She was used to how much he could eat, but she hadn’t fed these knuckleheads for a couple of years. Maybe she forgot what it was like. Maybe he should pick up some more food at the store or something.

Derrick must have read his mind.

“We’d better stop on the way to your place and get some flowers and wine or something, man. My mama would kick my ass if I showed up empty-handed,” Derrick said.

“You know what’s going to happen if we walk into a grocery store together,” Drew said.

“It won’t be that bad,” Seth said to Drew. “The wine department is right by the flowers at that store near your house. We’re in, we’re out, no problemo.”

“Oh, sure,” Drew said. “Like you know what to buy there.”

“Your mom’s serving red meat,” Seth said. “I’ll be buying red wine.”

“Where the fuck did you learn that one?” Derrick said.

“My mom told me.”

“Well, then,” Derrick said. “You’re just a goddamn somi . . . soma . . . what the hell are they called? Wine guys who tell you what to get?”

“Sommelier,” Drew said. “Plus, there are tags on the wine displays giving hints on what might be best to buy and drink with the food you’re having.”

“Oooh. Aren’t we fancy?” Derrick said. “Did your mom tell you that too? She’s a nice lady, so I’m not going to kick your ass for that.”

Seth rolled his eyes, and Drew laughed. Derrick had meted out some punishment on the field today, but he’d be in a much better mood after he had something to eat.

The three men were back in their vehicles and speeding down 405 to Drew’s house minutes later. They pulled into the lot outside of the neighborhood grocery store, and Drew gestured for them to gather around.

“Listen. We’re asking for it,” he said. “Derrick, you grab the flowers. They have those pre-made bouquets, and my mom likes pretty much everything. Seth, you get a couple of bottles of wine. I’ll keep us moving. Remember, get what we need and head to the nearest checkstand.”

“Got it.” They all did a fist bump and half-jogged into the store.

Seth’s optimism wasn’t rewarded. Three Sharks in one grocery store less than two hours after a team victory was a recipe for bedlam, and this was no exception. Seth darted into the wine section, Derrick headed toward the flowers, and Drew heard the first shouted “Go Sharks!” less than thirty seconds later as he tried to head to the ice cream section. He was surrounded by fifteen autograph seekers almost immediately.

“Great game!”

“Will you sign this, ‘To the hottest woman I’ve ever met’?”

“My son’s school is having a fundraising auction. Would you donate a game-worn jersey to it?”

A little girl was tugging on his pants leg. “Would you sign this for my daddy?” She held up an issue of Sports Illustrated with the Miners’ QB on the cover.

The grocery store manager arrived on the run. Drew glanced up from signing autographs and said to him, “Would you please grab a couple of pints of Ben & Jerry’s for me? Something that goes with chocolate cake would be nice.”