What was it with chicks? Why did they always want to mess with your nails? My sister encouraged their behavior, even after I warned her I’d throw her in the pool with her clothes on.
“You wouldn’t!” She narrowed her green eyes at me.
“I would. And I will. Try me,” I dared her.
“Enough,” Mom chided from the kitchen. “Come in and eat. Girls, leave Chance alone. He doesn’t want his nails painted today, but I bet your dad does.” She smiled at Uncle Dean, and Aunt Melissa burst out laughing.
My dad walked over to my mom and planted an embarrassing kiss on her lips before giving my sister and me a squeeze.
When dinner was ready, we all sat at the table as the conversation flowed and the noise grew so loud it could probably rival an Italian family gathering in New York. About halfway through the meal, Dad calmed the table down, asking for silence.
“I have some important news I want to share with you guys,” he said, leveling his gaze with mine. “Especially with Chance.”
Once everyone had piped down, Dad announced with a big grin, “Fullton State has had a scout at the last few home games. They like what they see with Chance.”
The whole table erupted into cheers, while my heart beat rapidly in my chest. Fullton State was the only place I wanted to play ball. I might not be a pitcher like my father, but going to the same college where he had started his career, and where he and my mom had met? To say it was my number one choice would be the understatement of the year.
“One of the coaches is retiring soon, which means they’re looking for a new coach. So, if things work out all around, looks like you’ll have to deal with me for another four years, Chance,” he continued, winking at me.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dad.” I shrugged, elated that my father would be there to continue molding me until I was ready for the major leagues. Some kids might resent their father micromanaging their sports participation, but I knew I was lucky. There was no one better than my dad when it came to baseball.
“Yeah, just stay away from all the, uh …” Uncle Dean paused, glancing around the table at all the young girls before continuing. “… distractions out there. Make sure you get a background check on every slut who tries to seduce you.”
“Dean!” Gran shouted from across the table.
“Oh my God! Don’t listen to him.” Aunt Melissa smacked his arm. “I mean, listen to him, but …” She grunted and stopped short of finishing her sentence.
Uncle Dean smirked. “I’m just trying to warn him. Someone needs to.”
Mom came around the table and patted me on the back. “Chance has his head on straight. He isn’t a Little Jack. Don’t you worry, he’s focused. He’ll be fine.”
“I hope I get to go to Fullton State too,” Coby interjected and my mom audibly sighed.
“I’m not sure I could live through history repeating itself,” her widened eyes met my Aunt’s.
“Two generations of Carter boys? Lord help us all,” Aunt Melissa shook her head.
Before I could say anything, Dad scooted his chair back and pulled on my mom’s hand, causing her to fall straight into his lap.
“I don’t think using me as a bad example is really working here, folks.” My dad frowned at the rest of the family while wrapping his arms around my mom’s waist. “‘Don’t be like Jack,’” he said in a mocking falsetto voice. “‘Focus. Don’t be like your father.’ But as far as I see it, being like me will get you the best wife in the world, the coolest kids, and a great family. Yeah, son …” He glanced at me. “Don’t be like me. Wouldn’t want that.”
My mother practically melted as she gave him another less-than-appropriate kiss, no matter how many times I groaned. I watched, shaking my head, as my dad pulled two quarters from his pocket and tucked them into her hand. “For later,” he whispered, but I heard and he knew it.
Damn it, Dad. I was ruined forever. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I eventually wanted what my parents had … just not anytime soon.
Later.
WAY later.