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“Red was hanging around you,” Sawyer said once we were in the car.
“Yeah,” I said dismissively. I didn’t want to talk about Red. “Gee, Coach is strict with Cully’s diet, isn’t he? I just wanted him to try one of my donuts and Coach nearly bit his head off.”
“Your donuts were good,” Sawyer said, not answering my question. “Man, I’m tired.”
I yawned. “Me, too. You’ll be glad to have a day off tomorrow.”
It had been a long day, a long week for the team, so everyone would take advantage of a rest day. But it would only be one day. Come Monday, the team would be back into full training mode.
“Heck yeah, I’m not getting out of bed before noon,” Sawyer said.
I laughed. “You’ll miss Dad’s pancakes,” I said. It was a Sunday tradition that Dad cooked breakfast for us. He considered himself the Pancake King, quite adventurous with his recipes, and he and Mom were now toying with the idea of setting up a franchise of pancake houses. My parents ran their own accountancy business, but this was a new venture that was in the early stages of development.
“I had a revelation in the middle of the night,” Dad said when I came into the kitchen in my pajamas. “Protein packed pancakes. Sawyer was saying how sore he was, so protein for recovery after a game.”
“Yeah, all the boys were hurting,” I said.
“How about you? You okay?”
It was nice of him to ask. No one realized how much running around I did during a game. “I’m okay but I think I ran a few miles,” I said.
“I’m thinking a vanilla protein powder with a mascarpone and blueberry filling.”
“What’s mas-car-pone?”
“A soft Italian cream cheese. It is high in fat, but it has protein and calcium, and most importantly, it's yummy.” He raised his eyebrows in quick succession.
“Your body needs some fat,” I said, thinking about Coach Mercer and the donut. Actually, I was thinking more about Cullen and the donut. I wondered if he had eaten them, or if he had guessed I’d left them for him.
“Yes, everything in moderation,” Dad said, one of his favorite sayings. “Fat is essential to the diet not only to keep us warm, but it allows the body to absorb certain vitamins, A, D, E and K.”
“Are you just saying random letters?” I teased.
Dad shook his head and laughed. “Hey, go and get dressed, and come to the store with me. You might give me some inspiration.”
“Okay,” I said, “won’t be a minute.” I dashed to my room, changing in record time into old gray sweatpants and my Packers hoodie. Likely no-one would see me at this early hour.
“We’ll have to go over to River Valley,” Dad said. “Cooper’s Wholefoods will be open.”
We talked about the game—again—and the Chargers’ chances in the semifinal. Dad was keen to make sure Sawyer recovered well, and I joked that if the pancakes were a success he should make a batch for after the game, and I’d become the water and pancake girl.
There was little traffic on the roads, and it was as we crossed the bridge into River Valley that a flash of blue caught my eye, the fast moving action of a runner coming on to the bridge. With a white headband tied around his forehead, my heart surged.
“Is that Cullen?” I asked, though I required no answer. ItwasCullen. Wearing a tank and black shorts, he was pounding the pavement, and if he was coming onto the bridge it meant he’d done a circuit across to River Valley, which was at least a forty to fifty minute run.
“Looks like it,” Dad said, tooting the horn, though by that stage we were way past him. “Doesn’t he have a rest day?”
I cringed to think Cullen would recognize Dad’s dark green Audi with the ADD4U license plate, but Dad was right. While Sawyer was home asleep, Cullen had been up at the crack of dawn running after an exhaustive day.
“Rest is for the weak,” I said, remembering one of the posters in Cullen’s room.
“Says who?” Dad asked.
I shrugged. “Just something I read somewhere.”
“There’s a reason Cullen is captain,” Dad said. “He leads by example. Whereas your brother most likely won’t get out of bed today.”
“He might for your pancakes,” I said with a giggle.
