“I understand,” he said. “You didn’t do much Sunday or yesterday. It’s hard to shut your brain off of something so completely.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t explain how those little actions moved him.
He had his screen up and his mother’s face appeared. “Hi, Emma,” his mother said.
“Hi, Casey,” she said, her hand waving rapidly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Okay, now I know where Warren gets his eyes from.”
His mother laughed. “He does have my eyes. I like to think he has a lot more of my features.”
“I wish I had everything of yours,” he said. “But you know, can’t control those things.”
“Then you would have been a test tube baby or something,” Emma said, giving him a shove. He didn’t move and never did when she did those things. He purposely didn’t, so she’d wrinkle her nose at him adorably.
Like she did just then.
Maybe he wanted his mother to see the playful interactions he had with Emma.
“I tell Warren all the time that you can’t change where you come from, but you can control where you’re going.”
“I like that,” Emma said. “It’s the truth. I can’t complain and never will about my history, but I’m more inclined to spend my energy on my future.”
“That sounds just like Warren,” his mother said.
“We have so much in common,” Emma said, nodding her head. Her messy bun was moving in a delayed reaction. “I never thought it when I first met him.”
“And she had no clue who I was.”
“He’s never going to let me live that down, but he didn’t know who I was, so I think we’re even there.”
He supposed he could think of it that way. “If you say so,” he said.
“You two look very cute together,” his mother said. “But Warren is like a giant next to you.”
“Always,” she said. “I’m only five foot four. He’s a foot and two inches taller than me and more than a hundred pounds.”
“Both of my girls are tall. I’m tall,” his mother said. “But not six feet tall.”
“Unfortunately, I get my build from my father,” he said.
“Not a bad thing since it helped get you where you are today. Not everything from people we don’t like is horrible,” Emma said, giving him a serious look that he didn’t see often.
Casey cleared her throat. “Yes, Mother,” he said, sighing.
Emma looked at the screen and back to him. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we are off the call,” he said. Because his mother was right and he should open up more.
Emma rubbed her palms together. “Oooooh, secrets.”
His mother laughed. “Maybe it’s confessions.”
His girlfriend’s jaw dropped. “Thanks for that, Mom. It’s fine, Emma,” he said.
“I have to tell you, Casey. I love picking Warren’s brain. I told myself I wouldn’t work too much while I was here, but he’s given me such inspiration for my story that if I don’t get it out I’m terrified I’ll forget it, even with notes.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” his mother said. “I always told Warren he had a mind to solve things. He’s put all his energy into football, but there is more to him than that.”
“He does,” she said. “And he’s helping me be a better writer. There were things I wouldn’t have thought of with this story. I can’t wait until he can read it.”
