I texted your sister. I told her she was right--Friday Night Lights won me over.
It did?! [I'm well into season three; his protests long and well-documented.] What was it that hooked you? Was it Coach Taylor's molding of men? His refusal to phone anything in?
No, I think it was Principal Boobs, he says, laughing.
I smack him on the arm, but I'm laughing, too.
There's a lightness there that wasn't always. We were seeing past each other, ships in the night and all.
He's been traveling, but when he's home, he's home. His eyes catch mine, and there's light in the recognition.
So I blow out my bangs. We put kids to bed and pour wine. We snuggle into the couch and admit that Tami Taylor can rock a V-neck with the best of 'em. And we're an us.