Marv and Walter are the two grouchos who are at Luminary whenever the doors are open. They love footballand they love complaining about everything we do wrong, even when we’re doing everything right.
During a dismal 5-8 season, we’re giving them plenty of material.
I wince and look at Clara. “Not my best day, no.”
“No trash-talking in my shop,” Clara tells Marv, her hand on her hip.
Marv grumbles to Walter but listens to Clara. Everyone loves Clara, even Walter and Marv.
“Hopefully we’ll get it together by Sunday,” I tell Marv.
I lift my matcha, thanking Clara again, and Levi and I head back to the room where my guys are waiting. My teammates, Bowie, Henley, and I started meeting regularly to talk about dad life, and it sort of grew into hanging out with my best friends and talking abouteverything.
Bowie has a daughter and Henley has three, so we had plenty to cover. Weston and Penn started showing up because they wanted to hang out with us, but then Weston became a dad and Penn started mentoring a kid, so the Single Dad Players now consists of five of us. We write shit in The Single Dad Playbook, and hanging out with these men has become some of my most treasured times, outside of the football field.
There are fist bumps all around. Levi goes around the table, saying hi to everyone, and stops when he gets in front of Caleb, Weston’s son. Levi plops down in front of Caleb with his toys and hands him a toy he knows Caleb likes.
“Good job, Levi. I love it when you share.” He hasn’t always been the best at sharing, so I make sure to praise him a little bit for it.
“What have I missed?” I ask.
“Not much,” Bowie says, leaning his elbows on the table.
I’m saying, “We look old this morning,” when Henley limps in. He’s still recovering from ACL surgery, and he turns and acts like he’s going to walk back out of the room when he hears me.
I jump up and tug him in, laughing when he pretends to hit me in the gut.
“If I can’t talk about how old I feel, you can’t either. And only one of us can be depressed at a time. Last time I checked, that was me,” he says.
He’s grinning as he says it, but he’s right. I wouldn’t want to be dealing with what he is for anything.
“I thought you were feeling better,” Penn says, eyebrows puckering in concern.
“I am, but it’s not a joyfest overnight or anything. And that game last night…” He looks around at us and sits down, stretching his bad leg out to the side.
We all groan.
“I need to drink this tasty beverage before I go there yet,” I grumble.
“How are negotiations going for you?” Weston asks.
“Pretty good.” I nod. “Sounds like they’re trying to get everything I wanted.”
“That’s awesome, man,” Henley says.
“Okay, then let’s talk about what’s going on with you and Elle and the way she looked at you after the game last night,” Bowie says.
“Elle?” Levi echoes, standing up to see if she came into the room. He goes back and sits down when he realizes she’s not here.
I give Bowie a pointed glare and he returns it with a contrite one.
“You noticed that, huh?” I say under my breath.
Bowie lifts his shoulder as if to say,Who didn’t?
“Hard to ignore those daggers,” Weston says.
If these guys noticed, who else did?
