FYI: The Kindle eBook version of my novel, The Caterer's Husband, under the pen name of Molly Taggart, is on a Countdown deal at Amazon for just 99 cents starting today. The novel was inspired by the relationship between Tami and Eric, though it otherwise no longer has any relation to Friday Night Lights.

A/N: I have two more chapters in mind for this story, though you never know. It may grow. I hope people are still reading and enjoying.

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Eric felt a warm contentment as Tami kissed him and then lay her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her where they stood on the sidewalk outside the parsonage and savored the familiar feel of her body against his.

"You two love birds fancy some dinner?"

Tami pulled away from Eric's embrace at the sound of her father's voice.

"Your mother called and told me she's making corned beef."

Eric felt the absence of Tami's warmth immediately, but he wasn't particularly bothered by the Reverend's interruption. As awkward as Eric felt about dating - and especially about having sex with - the pastor's daughter, he still liked the pastor himself. In fact, a minute ago, he had just been telling Tami that he wished he had a father like that. And now, as the Reverend came upon them so matter-of-factly, it occurred to Eric that the man might actually be his father-in-law one day. "God, I love her corned beef," Eric said. "Let me check with my mom if it's okay for me to stay."

Eric's mother sounded disappointed when he called her to ask if he could stay, though she said yes. Eric could tell she feared he was pulling away from home, and, in fact, he was. He was ready to leave his father's house, and he wasn't much interested in looking back. He would check in on his mother, of course. He would write, call, and invite her to visit him, but he didn't much care if his father didn't come along.

"You should have Tami over here again sometime," his mother said. "I like her."

Eric promised his mother he would, and then settled at the table with the Hayes family, where he was asked to say grace. He was better prepared for the request this time, and attempted to impress the Reverend with a lengthy grace, but when he was done, Shelley said, "God, Eric, do you have to go on and on?"

"Shush now, Shelley," Mrs. Hayes scolded her. "He was just honoring the Lord."

"Well," Shelley shot back, "I think Jesus says something about not prattling on in your prayers, like the pagans do. Isn't that right, Daddy?"

"Jesus says such people love to be heard for their much speaking," the Reverend replied. "But I think we can give Eric the benefit of the doubt and assume his heart was in the right place. Don't you think so, Shelley?"

Shelley shrugged.

"Though I'm glad to see you know your Bible."

"Kind of hard not to when I have to sit in the front row of church and listen to same sort of things every single week, week after week after week after - "

"- Shelley!" Mrs. Hayes interrupted her. "Don't belittle church. It's a beautiful thing."

"Sorry, Mom." Shelley rolled her eyes in Tami's direction, but Eric noticed she didn't get much sympathy from that corner.

Eric savored the corned beef. It was just the perfect amount of salty. This was not a dish they ever had in the Taylor household, but Tami seemed to have it once a week. "Is Hayes an Irish name?" he asked. Tami did have a red tinge to her hair.

"Top of the morning to you!" Shelley shouted in a horrid Irish accent, and Tami smirked at Eric, who smiled into his plate.

"Shelley, a little quieter at the table, please," Mrs. Hayes insisted.

"It originated as the Gaelic polygenetic surname O'Aodha," the Reverend said, "meaning descendant of Aodh, which means fire. The name may have originated from the Celtic god of fire."

"God, Eric, did you have to get him started?" Shelley asked. "Daddy has a serious thing for etymology."

"Genealogy, genius," Tami corrected her, and Eric chuckled.

"No, I meant etymology," Shelley insisted. "Word origins. He's talking about the origin of the name, Sherlock."

Eric raised his eyebrows at Tami. Had her flaky little sister really just won that argument? Tami shrugged.

"Give your sister some credit, Tami," the Reverend told her. "Shelley's quite clever, really. Now, if she would just put that intellect of hers to good use."

"I have a 3.5, Daddy."

"Your grades aren't my issue, sweetheart. But we need to talk about that fellow who drove you home from school today. Your mother told me about that."

Shelley smiled at the Reverend. "Marcus is perfectly harmless, Daddy."

"He didn't look harmless when he kissed you before you got out of that car," Mrs. Hayes said. "You know you're not supposed to be dating until you're 16. And certainly not some junior."

"So our name means fire?" Shelley asked. She was obviously trying to deflect the conversation. "That's strange."

"I think it's fitting," said Mrs. Hayes while looking at her husband. "It suits your fiery personality, dear."

"What?" Shelley asked. "Daddy's as calm as the ocean."

"The ocean isn't always calm," Mrs. Hayes told her. "Those waves can really grow. And the power in them! Your father was a very passionate man in his younger years."

"Eww!" Shelley said. "Mom, please, I'm trying to eat here."

"I mean he was passionate about his religion! About his preaching!"

"I still am," the Reverend insisted. "It's just…I've learned a fire doesn't always have to be loud. It doesn't always have to be restlessly burning."

Eric thought maybe Tami had inherited a bit of that passion. He was really looking forward to seeing more of that passionate side of her…mostly in bed, if he was honest. But he also admired her compassion and energy and commitment to the things that interested her. On the other hand, he was a little afraid she might get bored with him. Tonight, though, they'd talked about the future - about being together in college - maybe even after college. She wanted that, it turned out, which was a relief to him, because he'd been thinking about it a lot lately – her in his life for years to come. He hadn't been entirely sure she'd felt the same way. There was a danger, he'd feared, that he could end up the rebound guy, but tonight she'd erased most of those concerns.

Holding his fork just above his plate, the Reverend said, "The name was anglicized to Hayes, though in County Cork, it became O'Hea. Our clan is from County Cork. They call it the Rebel County. Eric, I'll show you our coat of arms after dinner."

"You have a coat of arms?" Eric asked.

"Of course Daddy has a coat of arms," Shelley said.

"Where are your people from?" the Reverend asked him. "The Taylors? England, Scotland, or Wales?"

"My people are from Texas," Eric replied.

The Reverend laughed. "They fight at the Alamo?"

"Probably not, but my dad once owned a bar a mile from the Alamo."

"Where are your mother's people from?" the Reverend asked. "What's her maiden name?"

Eric was a little surprised by this interest in family origins. It made him suddenly aware of how disconnected his own family was. His mother was warm to him, but his father had always been a little distant, a little weird as Tami called him. He'd never met a single grandparent. His fathers' parents had of course died long before Eric was born, and the stepfather might as well be dead, even if he wasn't. Eric's mother had been disowned by her parents, and she wasn't even sure if they were still living. Eric loved his sister, but Kathleen was in her own world now. He had no cousins. No uncles. No aunts. Nothing.

He wondered if that was why he'd sometimes felt a little bit adrift, out of place, not really rooted to anything. Football had become his anchor. Football was family. As long as he played, he always had brothers. And a football family had its own traditions, too, its own stories and special days, its favorites and its black sheep. He probably wasn't the only one of his teammates that had found a family in football. Some of those guys came from some pretty broken homes. And a coach had to deal with all that - all those half-orphaned children, all that natural family baggage.

"Your mind's gone somewhere else," the Reverend said.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking how a football team is kind of like a family, and how, if I do become a coach, I'm going to have a lot more influence and responsibility than I realized." In fact, his stomach was getting a little knotted just thinking about it.

"You'll rise to the occasion, though, Eric," the Reverend assured him. "You will."

Eric could feel the knots in his stomach untangling, bit by bit, with this firm but gentle assurance. He smiled into his cabbage, and, with renewed confidence, speared a leaf.

The evening passed with more stories, conversation, and laughter. As Eric made his way back to his truck, in the glow of the street lights, the cars wooshing by every now and then, he thought he wanted his own home to feel like that one day - gentle teasing, love, and laughter...sharing the past while moving toward the future.