I have to look away from the deep blue of his eyes to answer. “Sometimes.” The truth is that I was just considering it. Did he read my mind? Silence stands between us like a stranger. Today wasn’t my first time thinking about coming back to Wisconsin. Every year I mail in my vote for Texas state elections only to hear the same assholes were re-elected time and time again, and that’s when I consider moving to Wisconsin. They’re at least a swing state. And their Supreme Court just recently upheld abortion rights. It’s pretty appealing. But someone needs to stay and vote in Texas. I eye him across our chairs. “Did the Texas lessons convince you to like it there at all? Do you not see any similarities?” I gesture at the state around us.
He barks a laugh. “Oh, they’re completely different. I’m just getting used to it now.”
I play punch him on the shoulder. Colliding with thecorded muscle there kind of hurts my fist, but I don’t let it show. He would never let me live it down.
Charlie is already on his way back up the drive with brats piled high on a platter. “You kids ready to eat?” he asks as he walks up the porch steps.
“Brats done already?” Wyatt replies, already folding his huge frame out of the regular person-sized chair.
“Have you been gone so long that you forgot they’re cooked in the beer boil before they even go on the grill?” Charlie teases.
Wyatt claps his old man on the back. “Of course I haven’t.”
We all follow Charlie into the house which smells like mac ’n cheese and green beans with bacon. I chuckle to myself when I see the “salad” on the table. In classic Midwest fashion, there’s not a lettuce leaf in sight. No, these salads are special in that they’re basically a dessert. They’re not big on vegetables around here.
“Wyatt, will you get the Poblocki Bakery buns off the counter and bring them to the table for everyone?” his mom asks.
“Sure, Ma.”
We all settle in at the huge wooden table. It could easily seat ten or twelve people, but tonight it’s just me, Wyatt, and his parents. “Where’s Henry and Hazel?” I ask anyone who might know.
“Her parents are in town for the wedding, so they’re out with them tonight,” Barb replies.
“That’s nice.” Hazel and Henry got together right after I left for Italy, so I haven’t gotten to know her as well as I would have wanted.
“Did you guys see the new Kwik Trip on your way in?They just built it in the spring. The food is so good. I’ll pick up some Glazers for us tomorrow.”
“I didn’t realize they finished it so quick. We’ll have to run by while we’re here. Too bad it’s not cold, their hot chocolate is awesome,” Wyatt says and takes another sip of his beer.
The room is filled with the sounds of clanking cutlery. I watch as Wyatt piles what must be three cubic inches of sauerkraut on his brat. So much that you can’t see the meat at all. Just bun on the bottom and kraut on top. This is one thing, besides my undying love of Culver’s, that I brought back with me to Texas. They sell brats at H-E-B, and every now and again I get a mean craving for one.
“So,” Charlie starts, and I know this is about to be the interrogation portion of dinner. “About you two…”
I knew it was coming. Anyone would be curious how two great friends ended up dating. I just didn’t think there would be sex in addition to the real feelings I had when we started…maybe we’ll leave that part out.
Chapter Forty-Nine
WYATT
I guess Pa decided that two hours was enough time to let us relax before turning on the inquisition. He might be the one about to ask the questions, but I know this push for information is coming from Ma.
“What made you guys finally take the leap?”
I wipe my napkin across my mouth and lean back from my plate. “We’re both in the same place for the first time in five years.”
“You didn’t think long distance would work?” The questions are going strong, but I’m handling myself.
“I knew it would, but I wasn’t the one going overseas. I couldn’t put Nash in that position.” I don’t say that I tried by kissing her before she left. “That doesn’t matter now.”
In his proper fatherly tone, he says, “You’re right, what matters now is being together.” Under his breath, he mutters. “I don’t know why that can’t be in Wisconsin, but…”
This is what I’ve been waiting for since I stepped foot off the plane today. As many times as we’ve rehashed my leaving Green Bay over the last year, he cannot understand it. It’s asick sort of irony that from my chair at the table I can see through the living room to where my family’s singular share of the Butchers rests in a place of exaltation above the fireplace. I’m sure half of Wisconsin probably displays an antique rifle that’s some kind of family heirloom, the other half have that same certificate.
“We always knew the chances of me staying in Green Bay for my entire career were slim.” Honestly, I’m getting a little heated at the way they’re hanging onto this. It’s been a whole season since I played for Green Bay. Why are we still talking about this? None of this is in my control.
“At least your child plays a sport that makes a ton of money so they can stay in their country to play instead of having to go live across the ocean from you for years at a time.” Nash’s tone is scolding, which I didn’t expect. She’s not wrong. They’re sitting at the dinner table with their son, who until last year never had to go more than a couple hours away to play football. They don’t realize how hard they could have had it.
Pa, at least, has the decency to look admonished. He looks to Nash, who looks like she’s considering drowning herself in the thick and creamy embrace of Ma’s mac ’n cheese. Not the worst way to go.