“Rosie, is everything okay?” Timmy asks.
I opt to give him a half-truth. “Yeah, I just get too emotional watching these animal videos.”
“Oh, I get it, darlin’. Jon is the same,” Timmy sympathizes, mentioning his boyfriend.
Now I feel bad for leaving out the other half.
* * *
There’s a loud knock on the front door right after the last animal video. Pickles wakes up and runs under the sofa—you can only see the end of his tail as he hides. Timmy likes to say that Pickles is such a pussy to be a pussy.
“That must be Fred.” Marianne sing-songs, sashaying out of the room. A moment later, she and her Dutch boyfriend Frederik, Fred for short, walk into the living room.
“Hey guys,” Fred greets us with a wide smile. “Because of this event, I missed the football game. Who wants to watch the highlights with me?”
Timmy gets up to hug him. I can’t be bothered to get up right now. I am too comfy cuddled under the blankets.
Timmy’s cousin works with Fred at a tech start-up company. They have been friends for years. That’s how we first heard about Timmy. Fred told us how his friend got out of a toxic relationship and needed a place for him and his cat. At that point, Timmy and Pickles were staying at his cousin’s. After Marianne found out about their situation, she asked if Fred could give her number to Timmy. A week later, Timmy moved in, bringing Pickles, bad jokes, and best hugs to our lives.
Just don’t ask what Fred, Timmy’s cousin, and the rest of their team do precisely. I have no idea. They have explained it in-depth three times, but I still have no clue. It has something to do with artificial intelligence and how it improves marketing and sales results in different companies. That’s as far as my understanding goes. I bet Eli would understand what that means. He has always been good with technology. No wonder he runs a successful company in that field now.
Stop Rose. Once again, you’re thinking about him. It isn’t smart.
“Isn’t football only on Sundays?” Haisley asks, and we all turn and look at Fred.
“I always forget that you Americans thinkfootballis a different sport than in Europe,” Fred grumbles while crossing his arms in front of his chest. Marianne giggles and gives him a peck on his cheek. There’s a hint of a smile on Fred’s lips.
“Honey, don’t be mad if we call your footballsoccer,” she quips, holding in her laughter.
It seems like they have had this conversation many times before. “At least my favorite team is named after a mythological hero, unlike yours. They named a team after an animal that doesn’t even live in the wild in this country,” he retorts.
I guess he’s right. I have wondered the same thing before too.
“I’d rather watch ice hockey and those hockey butts anyway. Have you ever seen one closely? It’s just pure art. This Finnish player, Jasper Åkerman, has the most amazing butt. Too bad he plays for The Wood here in the city,” Haisley joins the conversation.
I spit my drink out as I can’t hold in my laughter. Drinking frozen anything while laughing tends only to end badly.
New York is well-known for its two hockey rivals—The Woodpeckers and The Peacocks. Yes, we have two teams named after birds, and both have ridiculous nicknames. The teams mentioned are called The Wood or The Cocks by the fans of the opposite team. Because her dad’s the general manager for The Peacocks, Haisley’s family bleeds purple and silver. Even if she appreciates Jasper Backman’s assets, Haisley is always loyal to her team.
I honestly will never understand sports. But I am lucky to have books, movies, and other things that keep me entertained.
We all laugh at Fred’s expression after the hockey butt discussion and spend the rest of our time together watching his soc—I meanfootballhighlights.
* * *
As I get ready for bed, my phone pings. I look to my nightstand to see a text from an unknown number. Before I even read it, I knew who sent it. Let’s see if Eli’s humor has changed over the years.
Unknown number:How was your night with your roomies?
Rose:Sorry, who’s this? I can’t remember all the guys I’ve given my number to this month.
Unknown number:Hilarious, Maggie.
Rose:I’m sorry, but the old Maggie can’t come to the phone right now. *eye roll emoji*
Unknown number:Am I supposed to know what that means?
Rose:One word: Google
