Page 79 of No Contest
"You hold your breath when you take a bite," she said, a tired half-smile flickering. "Rhett warned me you'd be too polite to complain."
"I'm trying to make a good impression."
"Why?" She exhaled, rubbing her temple. "I'm exhausted and blunt, but I'll ask anyway—you've known my brother how long? You really think choking down kale proves I can trust you with his life?"
The table was silent.
Hog set down his fork and met her gaze. "No, but showing up does. Being honest about being scared does. Not bailing when it gets hard does." He paused. "Your brother matters. So I'm here. Eating kale that fought back. Letting your kids test me. Whatever it takes."
Sloane nodded once. "Okay."
"Can we be excused?" Liam asked.
"Dishes first."
They cleared the table. Mae stayed close to me, but when Hog caught the glass she nearly knocked over—one-handed, didn't even look—she briefly smiled.
In the kitchen, Sloane's voice dropped. "Mae's terrified."
"I know."
"Her dad hasn't called in three weeks. She's testing everyone to see who leaves."
Sloane's jaw tightened. "So if this isn't serious—if you're just figuring things out—tell me now."
"It's serious."
"You sure? Because I don't have the capacity to explain another disappearance to a seven-year-old."
"I'm sure."
She searched my face, then nodded. "Okay." She rinsed a plate, then glanced toward the living room where Hog's laughrolled in too loud, and Mae didn't flinch. "Also, you light up talking about those kids. Ever think about coaching full-time?"
"I've got the business."
"That's logistics," she said. "Doesn't mean you don't have a calling."
In the living room, Liam pulled out his stick. Hog examined the tape job, with the phone balanced on his knee.
"Your uncle got it close. But see here? Too loose." He rewrapped the tape fast despite split knuckles. "There. Try that."
Liam tested the grip. "Oh damn. Way better."
"Language," I said.
"But it is, though."
Mae inched closer. Not much, but enough.
Hog's phone buzzed.
"I have math homework."
"Okay." Hog didn't push.
"Unless—" Mae looked at Sloane. "Unless you want to help?"
"If your mom says okay."
