By the looks of it, the twins are one team and Luc and Emmett are the other. No one’s really defending a goal. They’re all just jostling for possession, kicking and chasing. The real contest seems to be between Luc and Harry, but as I watch, I see that as defenders, Mattie and Emmett aren’t making it easy for either one of them.
Even if the teams weren’t evenly matched, it wouldn’t matter. Their smiles are like beacons. Great lighthouse smiles calling me ashore.
In a stealth attack—probably thanks to his size—Emmett snags the ball from Harry, and Mattie whoops in surprise. They all laugh. Emmett makes a deft kick to the far side of the yard, apparently into the imaginary goal, and Luc roars in triumph.
I get a moment to watch them all. Beaming. Breathless. Happy. My heart bobs like a buoy, floating effortlessly for the first time in months. And I feel everything.
This is exactly what they need.
I love this.
It won’t last.
And as that thought plunges my heart back into dark waves, Clarence lifts his head, spotting me. He barks a greeting and bounds toward me, surprising everyone. I bend down to pet him, hoping to hide all the emotions—so stinkin’ many of them—on my face before anyone can see. I swallow against the lump in my throat and feel a deeper soreness there.
“C’mon,” Luc pants, beckoning everyone toward the house. “Let’s say hi to yourhermana.”I’ve gotten so used to his subtle accent, I almost never notice it anymore. Except when he slips into Spanish. And then the sound of it shapes his words in a way that reminds me of his kiss.
Don’t think about that now.
As a body they climb the porch steps, panting, flushed, and all smiles. That is, until Luc focuses on me.
“You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, fine,” I say, but the pain in my head is now cinching in tight.
“You look pale,” he says, frowning.
Harry snorts. “She always looks pale.”
Luc’s frown etches deeper. As always, the scar in his brow makes his frown look scary, but I now recognize the look in his eye as concern.
I wave it away. “Just a long day.” I tear my gaze from his and take refuge in Emmett’s beaming face. “It looks like y’all were having fun.”
“It was thebest!”he cheers, collapsing against me in a clumsy hug. I have to brace myself to keep us both upright. He’s getting too big for this.
“What’s for dinner?” Harry asks. “Can we have Cane’s?”
The thought of getting back in the car to pick up dinner is nearly enough to bring tears to my eyes. And that’s not normal. It’s probably time I faced it. I’m coming down with a cold. Probably from freezing my butt off all Saturday morning at the soccer game.
“We can have Cane’s tomorrow night,” I promise. “Tonight, I need something that delivers.”
It’s just a cold. I’ll feel better tomorrow.
* * *
When my alarmgoes off at six-thirty Tuesday morning, I keep my eyes shut and swallow. Then whimper. My throat feels like I’ve chugged a shot of broken glass. I’m pretty sure there’s an SUV parked on my forehead.
“Dear God,” I plead with whoever’s listening. I slap my alarm to kill the fiend and press my hand over my eyes. My skin feels sandpapered. My bones have to be swollen. There’s no other explanation for this full body ache.
I keep my eyes shut and assess what’s possible. Advil is possible. Taking two will make me feel better. A shower. A shower is definitely possible. And coffee. Yes, I can handle coffee. It’s my friend.
Breakfast is not possible. The thought of chewing and swallowing anything solid makes my stomach shrivel. And a smoothie is out of the question. Too sweet. Too cold. Definitely too cold. I shiver under my sheets and quilt.
So in that order, Advil, shower, coffee, I make it out the door. I’m wearing my gray thermals under my scrubs and my fuzzy socks stuffed into my sneakers, so I’m not shivering anymore.
I can do this.
If I have to pull the chute and call Dr. Loftin later today, I’ll do it. But, for now, I can do this. I’ll feel better once the caffeine kicks in.
