Mirela brought a cushion to the stands, while Goran carried an old flask. They sat in the same row every Saturday because the view was good and the doors didn't let in a draft. Her adult son played for one recreational handball team; his daughter coached another. The teams often met in a small town tournament. Whenever Mirela jumped with joy, Goran usually sank deeper into his seat and drank coffee.
Their first conversations concerned the score. Mirela claimed his goalkeeper came out too far; Goran said her son always shot from impossible angles. They didn't actually know enough to be so certain, but that didn't stop them. Both lived alone. She had divorced, and his wife had died. They learned those facts slowly, between whistles and searches for a fallen hat.
One Saturday, the match was postponed because of a floor problem. Most people left, while the two remained outside the hall, puzzled by an empty part of the day. Goran offered coffee from his flask. Mirela said she would rather drink it at a proper table. They went to a nearby restaurant and stayed until lunch. Without a game before them, they discovered both liked bus journeys, hated crosswords, and kept boxes for objects discarded long ago.
They began meeting on Wednesdays. On Saturdays, they pretended to meet by chance in the stands because they didn't know how their children would react. At first, secrecy seemed amusing, then tiring. Mirela's son once saw them in town and asked why she hadn't told him. He wasn't angry about Goran. He found it strange that his mother thought she needed permission. Goran's daughter reacted similarly, asking only that they avoid kissing before the teams during halftime.
In the final match, their teams played each other. Mirela and Goran sat together but cheered loudly for opposite sides. When her son missed the decisive shot, Goran instinctively began commenting on his angle. Mirela looked at him. He stopped and offered the flask, and both laughed because they didn't intend to become perfectly tactful simply because they loved each other.
After the match, their children left with their teammates, while they went to dinner. Goran asked whether they would sit in the same place next season. Mirela said yes, provided he didn't explain every shot. He promised only every other one. She linked arms with him and kept debating the result as they crossed the parking lot. For the first time, they had no reason to walk several steps apart.