After we have everything cleaned up, the men and Peyton head outside for a little game of football, and because Noah wants to play, he’s the designated quarterback for both teams, and no one can tackle him. Except for maybe his wife. The last thing any of us want is for Noah to get hurt. He has to fly back to Portland tomorrow and get ready for his game next week. It’s then that we’ll celebrate Christmas with my mom. She’ll happily miss the holidays, but she won’t miss her grandson’s football game.
Outside, we separate into teams. I take Peyton on mine because—well, why not. I’ve seen her play, and she could’ve undoubtedly started on the varsity at Beaumont High if she tried out for the team. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Mason would’ve let her if he was alive, and Nick felt the same way. He was prepared for her to show up in August of her freshman year. He already knew what position she’d play and everything. Honestly, I was a bit sad she didn’t do it. I would’ve loved to cheer my ass off for her.
It’s cold out but not as cold as it was earlier in the week. Noah crouches down, pretending he has a center in front of him. He looks at me, Quinn, and then Peyton calls the play and yells hike. Peyton and I take off running. We cross each other, with Harrison and JD hot on our heels, and leave Quinn available for the short pass. Elle is guarding her brother, but he’s too tall and easily catches the pass from Noah. But Elle is sneaky fast and can grab her brother before he can get any farther.
“Second down,” I yell as I run back.
“And short,” Elle says, cocking her eyebrow at me. I put my arm around her, and we walk back to the line of scrimmage together.
“I knew you paid attention when we watched the games.”
Elle winks and tosses the ball back to Noah. “I know more than you think, Uncle Liam.”
“Lovely,” I mutter.
Nola stands on our makeshift sideline, marking our imaginary downs and keeping time. We are only playing five-minute quarters due to the freezing air and elevation. I know that once we’re inside, we’re going to hack up a lung or two.
“Do you have room for one more?” I glance over at the voice to find Mack standing here.
“I thought you went skiing?”
“We did but came back.”
“Where’s Paige?” I ask.
Mack points to the house. “She’s coming out to stand with Nola.”
“All right, why don’t you sub for Noah.”
“Hey,” Noah says, acting as if he’s hurt. “What if Mack and I swap?”
“Yeah, whatever.” I’m almost out of breath, and I think I’ve pulled a muscle.
Noah hands Mack the ball, and for a moment, they talk among themselves. “Traitor,” I mumble at Noah, who just shakes his head. Mack takes up the center position, putting Peyton, Quinn, and me on defense.
“Let’s go, Quinn. Hit someone.”
I look over at Nola and then at Quinn. “She always into violence?”
He shakes his head and laughs. “Not normally. When we watch Noah’s games, she cringes a lot.”
“Me too,” Peyton adds.
“Hey!” Noah yells from the sideline.
“Sorry, babe,” his wife says back, although I’m not sure she means it.
Mack calls his play and points at me. What the hell? That’s okay because I’m ready for him if he thinks he’s going to run right past me. I get lower in my stance and wait for him to take his three steps back, only he doesn’t. He takes five. Like I used to. Like Noah does. In this moment, I’m thankful there is snow on the ground, and none of Noah’s receivers are here because I have a feeling Mack can throw the ball. I may not want to see what he can do here, but come football season, I’m going to have a front-row seat to his game.
He passes the ball off to Harrison, who runs right toward me, only when he gets close enough for me to grab, he tosses the ball behind to JD, who takes off running toward an empty field.
“Son of a bitch,” I scream as JD enters the endzone, and of course, he dances in victory. “Smart play,” I say to Mack. “Did your dad teach you to take five steps like that?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“Where’d you learn it?”
“From watching old videos of you.”