My dad plays, or…played, I guess.” “Was he pro?” I ask, and Theo shakes his head. “Just beer leagues. He maybe could have done more, but he was in a car accident in college that screwed up his back. He was never the same after.” He slides his bowl forward, the spoon clattering against the ceramic. “He always hoped we would, though.” “And now you are,” I say. “That must make him proud.” “I wouldn’t know,” Theo says, his voice distant. “He died last year. Another car accident. What are the odds, right?” Suddenly, everything Theo is doing makes so much more sense, and my heart nearly breaks for
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