Keith grinned. “You’re saying you can be bought for the price of tuition?”

She smiled back at him. “I can be bought for a whole lot less than that. So why didn’t he tell me about wanting to go to Stanford? Why is he keeping secrets?”

“He’s becoming a man. He needs his own dreams and plans.”

“But I’m his mom and he’s my baby boy. Make him stop growing up.”

“Sorry. Not my superpower.”

She remembered what it had been like when Coop had been younger. It had been the two of them against the world. “I miss being the most important person in his life, but you’re right. He needs to make his own way. What are the Stanford colors? Will they look good on me?”

two

Keith reached for his beer, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Is that going to be part of the decision-making process? How you look in the college colors? Because you care so much about how you look?”

“Hey!” Ellen balled up her napkin and tossed it at him. “I care. Sort of.”

Keith had been around women enough to know this was not a winning line of conversation. When it came to pretty much everything, women had rules men couldn’t possibly understand. He’d often thought that if Ellen put even five minutes into her appearance, she would be chasing men off with a stick. Yet if he mentioned that, he was the bad guy.

Like her clothes. They were always at least two sizes too big. Even when she wasn’t teaching, she wore baggy jeans and oversize T-shirts or sweatshirts. She never put on makeup. Despite having long, wavy dark hair, she never wore it other than in a ponytail or a braid.

Not his rock, he reminded himself. Ellen was his friend and whatever made her happy made him happy, too.

“I’m sure the Stanford colors will be glorious on you,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Glorious? Is that the best you could come up with?”

“It is.”

“Fine. Tell me about your day.”

He reached for a chicken leg and put it on his plate, then added two more. “I had to deal with another pregnant girl. Why does this keep happening and why do they come to me?”

“In reverse order, they come to you because you’re capable and the odds of the guy involved being an athlete are high. As for why they get pregnant, that’s easy. Men don’t control their sperm.”

He stared at her. “What?”

“Sperm. It’s not the sex that’s the problem.” She waved her beer bottle. “Think about it. Women can have sex all day long and not get pregnant. They can have orgasm after orgasm and nada. It’s all about ejaculation. If the male half of the species made sure that didn’t happen inside women, there would be no unplanned pregnancies. Everyone looks to the girl, but she’s not the one who made it happen. He did.”