“But if her estranged husband is that dirtbag you punched in that video, she’s probably ashamed of ever marrying him.”
“She said that,” I admitted. “And he is very strange. Can I get more beer?”
Wes laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “You don’t need to ask. Help yourself to anything. And try to see where Sheridan’s coming from, okay? She’s good for you and I really like her.”
I nodded and rose from my barstool.
“And Lars?”
“What?”
“Prepare yourself, because when Hadley finds out you broke up with Sheridan, she’s going to have some choice words for you.”
“Please tell me I didn’t hear what I think I just heard,” Hadley said to me a couple hours later.
We were standing at the kitchen sink, where she was washing pots and pans and then passing them to me to be rinsed and dried.
“I cannot be in a relationship with a woman just because you like being friends with her,” I said sternly.
Hadley dropped the pan she was scrubbing into the large stainless steel sink, and a few soap bubbles flew up in the air.
“Lars, I’ll be friends with her either way,” she said, glaring at me as she put a wet hand on her hip. “I want you to be in a relationship with her because she’s positive, sweet and compassionate and I’ve never seen you happier than you were with her.”
My heart raced nervously because she was right about all those things. And following Wes, Nash and Drew and Boone had all told me I’d acted rashly by breaking up with Sheridan over finding out she was married but legally separated. I didn’t like being filled with self-doubt while surrounded by my teammates and their families.
“Let’s just wash the dishes,” I said. “I have talked about this enough today.”
“You clearly have not,” Hadley said, shaking her head. “Or else you’d be running out my front door without even grabbing your coat to beg that woman to forgive you for being such a callous, stubborn, overreactive jackass.”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
“Yeah, well, you’re my friend, so I don’t need your permission to tell you when you screw up spectacularly.”
Glowering, I set down the dish towel I was holding and said, “I found out she was married from one of the crazy photographers who follow me everywhere. She never told me, Hadley. She let me be humiliated.”
Hadley shrugged. “And she owes you an apology for that. But have some compassion, Lars. It sounds like this guy is an absolute maniac. You’d known him for about ten seconds when you punched him in the face, remember?”
“Pie?” Nash interjected, sticking a pumpkin pie between me and Hadley. “Who wants some pie?”
“We’re having a discussion, Nash,” Hadley said. “If you want to be helpful, grab a dish towel. Otherwise, leave us alone.”
“I want some pie,” I muttered.
“Can we finish the dishes first?” Hadley asked.
“If we talk about something besides Sheridan.”
Hadley stiffened, reaching back into the dishwater. “That’s fine. I’ve said everything I need to say.”
“Dude,” Nash said under his breath. “When a woman tells you something is fine, it is so not fine.”
“Really, Nash?” Hadley challenged. “Advice on women from the guy who licks senior citizens’ boots and hasn’t had a real girlfriend in years?”
“What the hell, Wes?” Nash yelled out, aggravated. “I guess nothing is private around here, is it?”
“I tell my wife everything,” Wes replied, talking loudly from the dining room.
“Are they talking about Mistress Sandra?” Boone called out from the living room. “Because I posted about that on Reddit.”
“I hate you all,” Nash muttered.
As Hadley passed a clean pot to me for rinsing, she turned to Nash. “But I bet you agree that Sheridan is the best thing that ever happened to Lars and it was a huge mistake to break up with her, right?”
“Oh, yeah. I totally agree with that.”
I threw the towel I was holding at Nash’s face and said, “You dry the dishes. I’m going to get a drink. And some pie.”
“Hey, will you cut me a piece of pumpkin?” Nash asked.
“No.”
I skipped the drink and just got a piece of pie, sitting down in the only open seat in the living room, which was a spot on the couch next to Annie.
“How’s the pie?” she asked me.
“Very good. Can I get you a piece?”
“No.” She smiled. “I’ve already eaten more today than I have in the last week. It was so good, though.”
She wore one of her wigs, and her red sweater hung on her small frame. But there was more color in her cheeks than there had been the first time I met her. Sawyer was on her other side, their clasped hands resting in Annie’s lap.
“I’m sorry about you and Sheridan,” Annie said softly.
I gave her a wary look, not in the mood for another lecture. But all I saw in her eyes was sincerity.