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Sam
Psh. You liked it.
Me
I did. I’d like to do it again.
Sam
Me, too. How about tomorrow evening?
Me
Only if you let me cook for you this time.
Sam
Deal.
Feeling significantly lighter than I did ten minutes ago, I leave my office and head to my kitchen to make a quick dinner before I meet up with my siblings.
We’ve been getting together every week to play soccer for years now. We realized that if we didn’t schedule something, we’d only see each other once or twice a month at family dinners with our parents. It’s ridiculous since we all live in and around the same area, but we have separate lives and busy schedules. It gets hard to see each other if we don’t make an effort.
Once I scarf down dinner, I head to the fields. Westlake has a great rec center with soccer fields you can reserve for free. We’ve kept our steady reservation for so long that the organizers will ask if everyone is okay when we have to cancel. There are very few times we have to do that. Usually only when it’s raining, too cold, or someone is sick.
My bag smacks against my butt as I speed walk to where my siblings are stretching. They all have smiles on their faces, which makes me happy. Seeing them successful and content with their lives gives me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed. I’ll always worry about them, but maybe I don’t have to worry quite so much anymore. We’re missing Matthew tonight, since he’s still in New York dealing with the aftermath of his girlfriend’s stalker. It’s a mess, and we’re ready for them to come home.
“There he is! I thought you were gonna bail on us,” Nolan shouts.
I laugh with a shake of my head. “Never. Just had a long day at work and was a little slow to get ready.”
“Everything okay?” Adam asks. His dark hair is loose tonight instead of in its perfectly styled way. In fact, his whole body seems to be less rigid than I’m used to seeing. Ever since he met his fiancé, Ellie, he’s practically been another person. He’s no longer the uptight CEO and finally seems more comfortable in his own skin.
I start stretching as I answer Adam’s question. “Sort of. Just ran into some issues the bosses wanted to dive into. I spent the majority of my day on video calls. It was awful.”
“Video calls are the worst,” Adam agrees. “I’m grateful Tessa spreads them out enough throughout my week that I don’t pull my hair out by Friday.”
“Have you heard from Matthew in the past couple of days?” I ask him.
“We texted yesterday. The media is hounding Tilly and Desmond. It’s such a shitty situation for them to deal with.”
“Why do they have to be such vultures? It’s her life, for God’s sake, you know?” Nolan argues.
“I know. It’s sickening.” Adam nods his head.
“Do we know when they’re coming home yet?” Sara asks.
“They’re hoping for next week, but it might be closer to two.”
“Will you make sure she has my number? Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who’s been there. I’m sure Matthew is being as supportive as possible, but it’s not a simple thing to tell the people you love about the things that scare you.” Sara’s been taking courses about PTSD to better prepare herself for being a self-defense trainer. She wants to be a resource for women who have been through traumatic experiences like she has. After dealing with her own stalker, she knows plenty about recovering from something like that.
“All right. How are we dividing teams tonight?” I figure a change of subject is the best option. Our soccer matches are supposed to be a way for us to burn off a little stress and have a good time together. If we keep down the path we’re on, we’ll end up gabbing about recovery tactics and trauma responses. While I never mind talking about the things my siblings need to get off their chests, these matches are a therapy in and of themselves. Each of us walks away with giant smiles on our faces and less stress weighing on our shoulders. It’s what we all need tonight.
“Sara and Carter, you start together against me and Nolan. We’ll switch after ten, as usual.” Adam toes the ball in front of him toward Sara, setting us off. These games always start by the book, but it’s not long before Nolan starts shoving me out of the way, and Sara plays a dirty move against Adam to score the first goal. Even when Matthew is here, we end up cheating half the time. As we grew up playing against each other, we created what we call “dirty rules”. They’re hard and fast lines we’ve drawn in the sand for what type of cheating is fine and what isn’t. If we break one, then we have to give up a point.
By the time an hour has passed, the four of us are breathing hard, and sweat is dripping down my back.
“I’m out!” Nolan whines. He drops down onto the grass with a thunk. “How are you guys in such good shape?”
