Out Of Practice

Simon says: So this is another romance of sorts with several chapters to go, thus this is not a self-contained story. :) For those who haven't read my stuff before, I tend to enjoy the slow burn more than just a quick bang. This story contains more sexual tension than any actual sex. Be patient my friends as future chapters should take it up a notch.

I welcome all feedback, including notes through the contact form. I respond to all emails and love to know if you connect with my stories in any way. It's the admittedly pervy side of me . . .

Thanks and happy reading!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I slowly walked towards the gathered crowd of other parents, huddled together on the sideline. It looked like the beginning of a middle school dance; the fathers focused intently on the play on the field but also joking with each other while the mothers separately from the fathers stood together, quietly talking about every topic imaginable. I didn't exactly belong in either.

Well, hold on, to explain, I am very much a guy with guy parts (so yes, I could gain easy membership in the father's corner) but I don't exactly fit into the father-of-athlete role well. I was never much of an athlete myself, instead focusing on building my reading muscles over other more physically impressive ones. And I am less physically competitive as compared to other guys. So in some ways I fit more in with the mothers-of-athlete types (except of course several were also athletes, but you get my general meaning here).

So I did the sensible thing. I stood between the two gender groupings and watched the first practice of this season.

Brady always took to athletics easily, in almost any sport. He inherited those skills from his mother, naturally. She played softball in college and apparently developed a hankering for some nerd long enough to fall for me, marry me and then leave me two years later for. . wait for it. . another athlete.

So when she left with little concern for her husband or young son I took custody of Brady. He sees her, very begrudgingly, once a year for a token visit. He hates it. I imagine she does too. Carrie should have never had kids. One day she might regret her decisions but right now she is enjoying herself as the single woman. At least she puts off the image of doing so.

I watched Brady get the ball easily from a defender and tap it casually to a teammate, Alex, also one of his best friends. The boys had been playing soccer together for the better part of four years. They worked like a single machine, knowing what each other was going to do before anyone else could predict.

I always liked Alex. He proved to be one of those good influence friends that you just desperately wanted your kids to latch onto. Polite. Bright. Hard worker. If Brady were a girl I would be planning their wedding now.

I watched the two twelve year old boys speed around the field, volleying the ball between them as they neared the opposing goal. Brady easily crossed the ball right to Alex's waiting foot, which then proceeded to easily send it sailing past the keeper for another goal. A little 12 year old boy celebrating and trash talking started followed by the coach's redirection and processing.

"Those boys are pretty amazing together, huh?" I heard the woman's voice right behind me. I turned to face a pretty woman wearing glasses, face framed by curly light brown shoulder-length hair. She looked like she had just been running as she was wearing a tank and athletic tights and had a light sheen of perspiration resting on her skin. "Absolutely." I smiled and nodded. I never felt comfortable with the small talk thing. This woman began the conversation so I believe the rules of engagement dictate that I say something semi-clever, or maybe complimentary . .Oh wait! I got it.

"Hi, I don't think we have met. I am Jack." I slipped my hand out of my pocket to shake hers. Yep, good job Jack.

She just smiled sweetly at me as she took my hand. "Yes, I know."

Her fingers were soft and warm as they wrapped around mine.

Ok, I wish I had written down the rules of engagement as I really didn't know where to go with this. She didn't give me her name. Fine, but I can keep up the casual chatting, I think.

"So which one is yours?" I continued, being all Mr. Smooth. . .

She smiled again, seeming to be in on some private joke or something. "Oh that one . . " She pointed at the field (where all the boys were moving around at high speeds) without ever taking her eyes off of mine.

"Uh . . . right . . . which one?"

She giggled to herself. "The one with the tall socks!" She waved a finger at the field, where every boy wore tall socks.

"The one in the dark blue socks?"

"Nope!"

"Green?"

"Nuh uh."

Ok, she was totally playing with me.

I raised my eyebrow. "I should know you, shouldn't I?"

She smiled and nodded, putting one finger on her nose and pointing the other at me.

"I must apologize. My memory is really bad. I hope I haven't offended you."

She put her fingers on my arm and squeezed. "I am so sorry Jack, I just couldn't resist!" Her eyes were practically dancing, reflecting light as the sun moved down towards the top of the trees behind me.

I must have been in 'Jack World' (a frequent stop for my mind) as all of a sudden Alex and Brady surprised me by running up between us, practice seemingly concluded.

"Dad! Did you see my goal during the scrimmage??" I forgot the mysterious woman for a moment as I glanced down at him. I smiled and nodded. "It was . .awesome!" We fist bumped, which was mildly acceptable to Brady.

"See ya on Thursday, Brady!" Alex started walking off with the mysterious woman. Brady waved goodbye to his friend .

"See ya on Thursday, Jack!" She nearly completely mimicked Alex as she left with him, waving and grinning, Alex punching her in the arm as they moved back towards the parking lot,

Oh.

Alex's mom.

I am a dope.

So up through the end of last season, Alex's dad, Michael, had been bringing him to practice and to games. Pretty nice guy. He was a salesman, I think. I recall I might have met her once at the end-of-season party. I was being honest: my memory really sucked. I mean really bad. So, 'Alex's mom' could have talked to me for hours and I might have forgotten. Damn.

I don't think she was upset but I should have recognized the mom of my son's best friend. I am going to have to really plow into my deep memories to be prepared for Thursday if she comes back. Or, do some digging using available resources! Let the research begin . . .

"So Brady. . . Alex's mom . . . " I was trying to be all casual as I started up the truck. " . . . What's her name again?"

He shrugged, "Mrs. James."

"Uh-huh. Right." I should have anticipated how that would go. The good news was that I of course had forgotten Alex's last name, so I did glean some helpful information from Brady! Score one point for Jack! Mental note to look up stuff on Michael James. "And . . . do you know if Mr. James will be at practice Thursday?"

He shrugged again, seemingly saying 'I don't know,' but all I heard were vowels "I-o-o."

I nodded casually again. I didn't want to press him too hard. He was like a deer. No sudden moves lest he completely shuts up.

I needed to look up Alex's family on Facebook or something. Actually I would need to create a Facebook account thingie and THEN look them on Facebook. I may not be good at small talk and casual conversation, but I really cannot stand to not know something I obviously should. At the very least, I would find out her name.

++++++++++++

'Michael James' - search. 4 gazillion results. Alex's dad's name had to be comprised of two of the most common Engish first names ever. Why couldn't he have been named Latimer Grovintowskinovich?

Uh, the world wide web was not going to help much. And neither was Brady. Nor the school directory. Nor the initial emails about soccer practice time this year (they all went to Alex's dad). And while yours truly now was one of one billion people on Facebook, complete with no posts, pictures or personal information, I still could not find Alex's mom to save my life.

So I gave up.

I closed my laptop down and headed to bed. Maybe I could come up with a Plan B in the morning.

++++++++++++

Hmm. Some personal message from Facebook in my email inbox! Why would Facebook be writing me? Someone is feeling pretty frickin special. Wait, it was a 'friend' request. . .whatever that was. I am not sure what that actually means but there was some sort of 'accept' link. The person's name was Sadie Bennett. I didn't know any Sadie Bennetts . . .

I of course clicked the link. No reason to worry about what might happen if I blindly click a link. It's just the internet afterall.

The page loaded with the Sadie person's link to a profile with a small image. I casually took another bite of my favorite, and pretty much standard breakfast choice: Count Chocula.

"Brady! Come here and make like this image thingie bigger or something."

"Move Dad. . . " Brady appeared out of nowhere and began his magic.

"Done. Now you can be friends with Alex's mom . . ." He mumbled as he headed into the kitchen.

Oh. Sadie was the mysterious mom. She 'friended' me. Hmm.

"Brady! How do I like read up on her??"

Again, my personal IT support person, complete with very little patience and lots of condescension, reappeared. "Move Dad."

He sat back down and spent like 45 seconds of his unbelievably valuable time clicking around the page and explaining where personal info, photos and whatnot were.

And then he disappeared again into the fabric of our home, hopefully getting ready for school.

"See you Dad. Bus will be here in a minute," Brady called as he headed for the front door.

"I love you, Brady."

"Yep."

The standard exchange. He used to tell me he loved me, but no more. It's ok as I know he still does . .He just says it differently now. Like by helping me figure out Facebook while implying I was inept.

Yeah, so I was very late to starting my writing that morning, but I did learn a crazy amount about Sadie. Like how Alex actually has a sister named Anna. Like how they loved going to the beach every summer. Like how about a year ago I saw less and less of her husband Michael in any of Sadie's photos. Like how she changed her name back to Bennett, her maiden name, in the last six months. And how her 'relationship status' just said 'it's complicated.'

That all made things a bit clearer now.

I learned that she liked to watch DIY shoes and HGTV, that she read classic chick literature like Jane Austen, that she was a fan of art and classical music but that she also apparently was into 90s boy bands. That was almost disturbing, but I could work with that.

I also learned that she was a sales rep for a software solutions company and that apparently she and her two girlfriends do Margarita Friday just about every Friday night at a local sports bar called Mac's Place. Good for her. She looked very happy in those photos. Of course it could have just been the margaritas. They tend to make everyone happy.

And I had to admit at this point that I spent a little bit of time closely studying the beach photos. Did I feel like a pervert looking at photos of her in a bikini with her kids? Yes I sure did! Do I feel bad about that? Not one bit!

Seriously man, I have lived the life of a monk lately. Well not even lately, for like half a decade. I should be able to get a little happiness looking at a very pretty woman in small strips of cloth moonlighting as actual clothing. I am pretty sure God wanted me to see her . . Its why he matched us up in Facebook after all!

I suddenly heard a ding that I had never heard on my computer before. And Brady was at school so his annoyance-laced technical support was not readily available. I minimized my work and started looking around for anything running at the bottom of the screen, a helpful little tip Brady had provided me.

I had left Sadie's profile up in another browser tab (in case I felt like re-researching her. . yes I know what it seemed like but stop judging me) and finally saw a little red "1" up at the messages spot. That was new. I clicked it and saw that Sadie had sent me a note.

- - - Hi Jack! Glad to see you made it on Facebook!! Welcome to 2017! :-)

Might I offer a tip? Put up some photos, man! Might I offer a second tip? Put up some information about yourself! How am I supposed to stalk you with absolutely nothing to work with??? (<--rhetorical question) I mean seriously. Your Facebook profile has a coolness rating of just below the Food and Drug Administration's page! If you need a consultant I will be sure to provide you with my rates at the next team practice. I am reasonable, sort of professional and will only make fun of you a little bit.

Seriously though, glad to connect with you. :-) See you soon! ~ Sadie, Mysterious Soccer Mom Who Should be Upset that Jack Didn't Remember Her but Really Can't Seem to Muster the Indignation - - -

I saw the reply button right below her message, so I clicked and started out a response.

- - - Dear Sadie - Thanks for the note. I am afraid you have made the rookie mistake of 'friending' a Facebook virgin. I may actually bring down your seemingly high social media celebrity status. I will work on photos, although I must admit that I actually have few. And as to information, maybe you can give me some tips and tricks off the clock. Seeing your Facebook profile and footprint I seriously doubt that I could afford your services.

Thanks for the tip on how cool the Food and Drug Administration's Facebook profile is! I will be sure to pop over there to ogle their vacation photos.

Looking forward to you getting the best of me again at practice. Affectionately, Jack, Recovering Weak Memory Sufferer & Recent FDA Facebook Page Fan - - -

It took about two minutes before I heard another ding.

- - - Hi Jack! You are probably right: You likely can't afford me. ;-) But I can still help you with your Facebook virgin status! Any other virgin status may be a bit soon in our relationship!! LOL! But because your son is such an amazing friend of my son's and because of me having a little fun at your expense I would be happy to give you some pointers gratis.

So it seems like you have been snooping around my profile, yes? See anything you like? You a fan of vacation photos, huh? :-)

~Sadie, Charitable Facebook Consultant & Recent FDA Facebook Page Opponent - - -

See anything I like? How about the shot of her in a bikini from behind? That was pretty awesome. A close second would be the shot of her in a bikini from the front. Actually I think those two were tied. And honestly just about every other picture of her, smiling her pretty smile, I liked it all. Come to think of it I should probably bring those bikini photos up again for inspiration as I considered the best way to answer her question.

Yeah, I had inadvertently mentioned the vacation photos, and she picked up on it. And now she probably thinks I was stalking her in her little bikini. Hopefully that didn't creep her out at all. But she HAS to know that guys do that when women post seemingly innocent but somewhat revealing photos like that.

I looked at my watch and realized this little Facebook and Sadie adventure had cost me most of a morning of writing. But that's ok, as I was having fun for once. Totally worth the time investment.

- - - Dear Sadie, Thank you very much for offering your services gratis. I will try to develop a skill that could be useful to you. If so then I am happy to help you out. For a small fee of course.

And yes, I do enjoy vacation photos. Likely because I don't ever get to go on one. Maybe living vicariously through other's adventures on Facebook will provide me with equal satisfaction. I am sure that will work fine!

As to your profile? I found it very informative and a lovely reading experience. And your family is lovely. I will have to rent a nice family for my photo section, bribing Brady to stand with them. A video game or a phone upgrade should be a sufficient payment for him acting neutrally 'whatever' about some random family.

Looking forward to my FREE consultation. Papa likes free stuff.

Affectionately yours, Jack, Budding Social Media Rock Star & 12 Year Old Son Whisperer - - -

- - - Hi Jack! I completely understand the living vicariously through others' lives. Its why I am on Facebook! We will get you all set up so that you may even get a SECOND FRIEND! What??!! :-)).

I am kidding! (More or less). I really should get to work doing worky things. I am looking forward to discussing all of this tomorrow evening.

Take care Jack. :-) ~Sadie, President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer and Only Member of the Jack O'Donnell Facebook Fan Society - - -

I am 98% sure she was being flirty, which was pretty cool. I hadn't flirted with someone in quite some time.

I enjoyed more photos of her for a bit as I thought about the complexity of a recently divorced woman and a long time ago divorced man who both likely thought life was too messy to take anything other than single parent survival very seriously. Maybe she would just be a cute, fun diversion. And a new friend. Both of those would be very welcome.

++++++++++++

"Good afternoon, Jack." I turned around and found myself face-to-face with my smiling new Facebook best friend, Sadie. I should mention I called her my Facebook best friend as she was STILL my only friend on Facebook, thus she fit all categories of friendship on Facebook.

Now it took me a moment to respond, not because I didn't know her name as obviously that semi-crisis had been addressed,, but because she looked amazing. She was wearing this light feminine sundress, her curly-ish hair was pulled up into some sort of bob/ ponytail combo. She practically glowed. She looked so amazingly pretty. And so the-less-than-suave Jack only managed to say "wow." What was in my head moved between my lips before I could stop it sometimes.

Her confidence blipped at that moment, as if she wasn't sure what I meant.

"I'm sorry . . . I . . ." I felt a little heat come to my cheeks. There was no easy smooth way out of this without seeming like I was hitting on her or something. Which of course begs the question: would I want to? "You just. . um. . you look very nice."

Her face softened and the smile returned. "Oh, thank you. And well anytime you want to compliment my dress then please do so." She held her hands in front of her as she stood shyly near me.

"Well technically it wasn't just your dress. It was the whole . . . you . . . I should probably shut up now. Sorry again."

"Oh God no! Please feel free to continue in vocalizing your thoughts. They are working absolute wonders for my self-esteem." She grinned at me, her blush remaining on her face.

"And I like your glasses. They are dead sexy."

"You are such a dork!" She laughed as she pushed me.

How odd it was. We likely spoke for five minutes two days ago and then spent the next morning going back-and-forth in our little semi-witty flirty banter, and yet I felt like we REALLY knew each other. It probably was because I perved her entire Facebook collection circa 2008 to present.

Or another explanation could be that we had spent years together and my memory issues dropped it. Hell, we may have even be married at one point. Who knows? Actually I KNOW I would remember being married to her so let's go with the natural connection theory.

We experienced a tiny lull in the conversation. "Not running today?"

She shook her head. "Only on occasion . . Plus it looks like it might rain some." She glanced up at the graying skies.

And as if on cue I felt the first drops. The team would continue to play until an outright downpour or thunder and lightning kicked in, so I knew practice was not over.