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“And then he kissed her, right on the jumbotron,” said Shae.
Iris looked at her. She grinned.
“Really,” said her mother. “Does that mean you’ll be home for Thanksgiving?”
A pause, and Iris glanced at Hud.
“Yes,” he said.
“What about your upcoming Lauchtenland game?”
“It’s not for a month—two weeks before Christmas. And we’ll be back for it,” Iris said.
“I’m not playing,” Hud added. He didn’t even sound upset. “I’ll be on injured reserve for the game, so on the sidelines, but mostly I’ll be around to coach up Felix and the other wideouts. At least until my contract ends at the end of the year.”
“And then?” Fraser said.
Hudson took a breath. “Then, we’ll see what the next step is. I know God has something good…I just need to wait for it.”
In the screen, her dad nodded. “Well done, Hud.”
“How are you feeling, Mom?” Iris asked. Her mom seemed just as fragile as when Iris had left, although she’d been cleared of any immediate issues.
Like cancer.
“We’re having some tests done tomorrow. We’ll let you know if there’s anything to worry about.” Her father smiled, but worry haunted his eyes.
“Ned, are you and Shae headed to Minnesota or back to San Diego?”
Ned had put down his pizza, then put his hand on Shae’s shoulder. “Would you be too upset if we…eloped?”
Silence. Iris looked at Ned, who looked down at Shae. She was nodding.
“Where?” her father said.
“It’s a secret. But we’ll tell you when we come home for Thanksgiving.” Ned winked.
“What about your uncle, Shae? Won’t he—”
“He’ll be fine,” she said.
“Congratulations,” Fraser said, and Pippa echoed it.
“I’ll need a lot of pictures,” said her mom.
“Pictures!” said Pippa. “That’s it! Shae—you said that when you were kidnapped, the guy who took you—”
“Arkady Petrov.”
“Right. You said you thought they wanted the pictures on your camera.”
“Yes.”
“Of Titus Stadium.”
“Yes.” Shae looked at Iris. “And Vikka was sent by them to poison Iris—”
“And her crew,” Fraser said.
