Missing husband

Missing husband
As quietly as I could I explained the rules of football. Every play she had a question. Finally, she just looked at me and waited. As the evening progressed it cooled off. We snuggled under the blanket the man of our house had thought to bring. In what felt like a blink, we were to the two-minute warning, which I had to explain. Since we were getting our butts kicked out there, there was no chance of us going into overtime. As much as I loved having my daughter’s attention, I wanted to get home where there was central heat.

The sound of the final buzzer had everyone on their feet to applaud the effort of the boys. They rarely won a game, but they always played hard. I gathered up our things while Savannah giggled with a gaggle of girls. Judging by the sideways looks they were casting towards the field; I’d put money on that they were talking about football players’ butts.

Once all of our gear was gathered, we slowly made our way down the metal steps to the main aisle. The slow pace was only partially due to my heels and mostly because my offspring felt the need to stop and speak to everyone she knew. About halfway down I was wishing for a more socially awkward child. At this speed, there was a chance I was going to run into other mothers. Like most predators, the more of them together, the more dangerous they were. I hadn’t been welcomed by the mothers at any of the schools. They all knew I “saw” dead people. There was a large stack of cards for psychiatrists at home that I had been given by other parents. They thought I was delusional. I had never decided if that was better or worse than the ones that thought it was cool I could see the dead and wanted me to contact someone for them. They were never happy when I explained summoning the dead was a bad idea. Anyone with any brains knew better than to open that door. Unfairly, they all accepted Jesse and his gifts. Thought he was all new agey and cool or so they said. I was convinced it was because he was attractive and an involved father.

Finally, we reached the main aisle.

“I’ll catch up with you.” Savannah waved me off as she veered over to a gaggle of teenage girls leaning over the railing talking to Jock Boy. Shaking my head, I carefully went down the metal steps, mentally crossing my fingers I wouldn’t hook a heel on them and do a face plant. Safely on terraform, I went in search of my missing husband. The pack of fathers had moved from the grassy area they had been in earlier. I figured they had migrated to the concessions stand. Journey’s dad most likely had his smoker there. Knowing men as I do, they tend to congregate near outdoor stoves even if they avoid the indoor ones like the tampon aisle.

I reached the point where the sidewalk split to form a circle around the grassy area that had the flags and memorial bench for the football coach that died a few years back. There were parents huddled in groups on either side of the circle. Not wanting to risk the catty ones, I slipped my heels off and jogged across the grass. On the way I nodded at the coach sitting on his bench.

Safely on the other side of the loop, I followed the sound of male voices to parking area behind the cinder block building. I rolled my eyes when I finally could hear their conversation. They were discussing the best dry rub ingredients. I made a mental note to mention this the next time he made fun of my friends and me for anything.