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Loree waves at her brother as well before turning her attention to me. “Oh, before I forget to say something, we’re having some people out at the cabin on Sunday for a cookout, and we’d love it if you and Brody came.”
“What time? I have to work until two,” I state, after mentally running through my weekend schedule.
“Probably mid-afternoon for fishing or whatever, but we’ll eat later, around five.”
I nod, knowing Brody would love to go. He doesn’t mind spending time with the younger boys, especially if he has another opportunity to go fishing. “I can make that work. What can I bring?”
“Just you and Brody.”
“How about a dessert?” I offer.
Loree laughs as Hallie joins us on the bleachers. “What’s this I hear about a dessert? I’m all about the sweets.” Hallie says, making Logan snort. When she turns and glares at him, he just continues talking to Kenton and watching the field as the players warm up, completely ignoring Hallie.
“What was that about?” Loree whispers as she leans toward me.
“They have a love/hate relationship,” I respond.
“No love. It’s hate/hate,” Hallie insists, reaching over and taking some of my popcorn out of the bag.
“If you say so,” I mutter, making Loree laugh.
Blair and Gabe arrive, as well as Ava and Marcus. I don’t see them often, so it’s nice to catch up with how Ava’s fifth grade class is doing, as well as hearing about Marcus’s busy schedule at the mechanic shop all before kickoff. However, now that the game is ready to start, we all stand up and prepare for battle.
The whistle blows and the ball is in the air. We receive and take off toward the goal line, but the Rebels ensure we don’t return it nearly as far as we want. Brody jogs onto the field with the starting offense, and my heart starts to beat a little harder. They huddle together to receive the play call before taking their positions. Brody is way outside, and I can tell by the way he flexes his hands, the ball is headed his way.
Holding my breath, I watch as the ball is snapped. Dorian scrambles back as the linebackers blitz, but he’s able to get the ball in the air before being sacked. Brody is running downfield, glancing over his shoulder to find the ball. He extends his arms up at the same time I feel a hand clench my wrist. I don’t even turn to look at Loree. I know it’s her hand. My eyes are glued to my son as he grabs the ball out of the air just as a defender reaches forward and tips the ball. Both players go down hard, the football falling from Brody’s hands and landing on the grass beside him.
“Shit,” I hear Logan mutter as I wait for my son to get up.
The defender bounces up first and extends his hand to Brody, who takes it. They’re both standing a moment later and jogging off toward their respective huddles, and it’s in this moment I realize we’re in for a tough fight. West Central is another two and oh team, which means tonight’s game will be a hard-fought win for either team.
TD turns and meets my gaze. So much passes in that brief moment. He’s letting me know my son is all right. He’s telling me tonight’s game is going to be rough. And he’s assuring me he’ll do whatever he can to protect all his players. That look goes a long way to calm my erratic heartbeat, but it doesn’t help settle the churning in my gut.
I hand my popcorn over to Hallie, because I’m suddenly not hungry.
Our team breaks out of their huddle for their second play, and even though Brody’s still in, I know it’s not a pass to him. Our center hikes the ball and hands off to the running back, Matt. He darts straight, but the defensive line is blocking any forward motion, so he spins to the left and sprints around the line. He’s about to get outside but is brought down after only a yard or two gain.
We clap for our boys, trying to show them support. Brody jogs out and heads straight to TD, who places a hand on his shoulder and talks to him. I watch as my son nods in understanding and waits on the sidelines for his next opportunity to go in. However, on the next play, one of our players doesn’t get back up. He’s reaching for his ankle, and you can tell he’s in pain. The trainer and TD both jog onto the field, and after several heart-pounding minutes, help the player off. He’s hobbling, but able to put a little pressure on his injured ankle.
“Oh man, I hope that’s just a sprain or something,” Loree says.
“Me too. Justin’s our halfback, and a key player for the offense.”
After making very few gains, we end up punting the ball to the Rebels as our defense prepares to take the field. Brody keeps his attention on the game, cheering on his teammates and trying to keep them motivated. But after only three plays, the Rebels score a touchdown, celebrating in the end zone and leading the game for the first time.
“Shoot!” Rogan hollers as their kicker sends the field goal high into the air and straight through the uprights.
“Come on, Panthers! You got this!” Hagen yells to our team as the kickoff return team gathers around TD.
Brody is still pacing the sidelines, anxious to get back in the game. When the ball is in the air, we return it for about fifteen yards and the offense takes the field once more. TD hollers something to Brody, who nods before turning and running onto the field. For the next four plays, I watch as my son struggles to gain yardage for his team. The Rebels cornerback is all over him, ensuring any catch he makes doesn’t end up in the end zone, and that’s if the pass isn’t broken up before Brody catches it.
I watch as my boy becomes more and more frustrated with each play of the game, hoping he’s able to catch a break and make a big play. But the Rebels did their homework and were prepared for Brody’s speed and agility to snatch those hard-to-grab balls from the air.
By the time halftime comes, we’re down twenty-four to seven, and our team looks dejected as they head for the locker room.
Tonight’s going to be a long night.
Chapter Fourteen
