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Chapter 45
"Alright, troops!" Tommy whisper-yells as we huddle in a circle. "Gather 'round."
Dad's clutching his side, Danny's breathing hard and Tommy is rubbing the side of his head, nursing a hangover after a late night at the Glorious Pig last night.
Me.
I'm single-handedly carrying this team right now. And my lungs and legs and arms are feeling it.
"Dad," Tommy points at him, "you gotta run faster, Old Man. They're killing us out there."
Dad grunts but can't catch his breath long enough to utter anything coherent in reply.
"We need to sub him," I interject. "We're tied and this is our last play."
"No," Danny shakes his head. "We need muscle."
"Jenny's right," Tommy exhales. "We don't need muscle; we need speed."
All four of us turn and look at ten-year old Ollie, who's picking at blades of grass with his fingertips and staring up at the big, blue sky.
"Do you think…" Tommy trails off.
"He'll be fine," I assure him. "The kid likes to daydream, but he can sprint. Probably faster than Matt."
Tommy and I both shift, taking in our competition.
The Thompsons. And Nora.
It's our annual Kearns V. Thompson Flag Football Game at Beaver Creek Park. The last weekend of September, when the weather is perfect before the first snow in early October, we gather at the park and play a highly competitive game of football. Tommy even flies in for the event. It gets pretty intense, so we usually grill afterwards and stay at the park until sunset, unwinding from our not-so-friendly competition.
We used to play tackle football, but we had to ban physical touches after Tommy broke his arm the third year we played. He collided with Randy and, well, ended up in a cast for two months.
Mom and Diane always sit on the sidelines cheering us on while drinking wine coolers. This year, Audra is sitting beside them, her six-month swollen belly nestled between her arms wearing a red Team Thompson T-shirt she made.
I'm trying really hard not to focus on how this is the last game Diane will ever be present at.
Since there's four of us, and only three Thompsons playing, we lend them Nora every year.She thinks we should rotate through family members, take turns playing on the Thompson's team. She has a point, we probably should take turns, but we don't. It's harsh, maybe a little ruthless, but if you have Kearns blood running through your veins, you can't play for the opposing team.
Period.
Nora's a little salty about it.
We've won every year since its inception and we're not about to let our winning streak go.
But it's not looking good right now.
Dad and Danny are getting older and can't move as fast. And Tommy partied too hard last night.
I blame Kyle.
He took him out drinking and sabotaged us.
"Ollie!" Tommy hollers. "You're up!"
Ollie points at himself, "M-me?"
"Yeah," Tommy nods. "Get over here."
