The Winner's Game (17 page)

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Authors: Kevin Alan Milne

BOOK: The Winner's Game
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I
SHOULD BE SLEEPING
. I wish I was! Bree is snoring away on the bunk above me, blissfully unaware of what I heard when I went downstairs earlier to get a drink.

I should never have picked up the phone. After I did, I should never have listened…

Now I might not sleep at all tonight. I bet Mom won't either. She's probably bawling her eyes out this very second. Maybe Cade's down there awake too, quietly listening to our mother consoling herself.

I'm sad about the whole situation with my parents, but right now I'm also kind of upset with them. I don't think they understand how lucky they are simply to have fallen in love. What a miracle to find someone you love and who loves you back!

Note to self: if you somehow make it to adulthood and find the man of your dreams and have beautiful kids, don't blow it being mad at each other for stupid little things.

Sometimes my parents make me so mad I could scream! If Bree weren't sleeping, maybe I would.
Then again, that little sneak went and tried to get all flirty with Tanner behind my back. Maybe she deserves to be woken up…

Hearing the way my parents talk to each other makes me wonder how it used to be between them, back when they first met. Did Mom think Dad was cute the way that I think Tanner is cute? Did she feel electricity when he hugged her? Did she spend at least half of every minute thinking about him?

I kind of hope not, because that might mean the way I feel about Tanner is not enough.

After I've been lying restless for what seems like forever, eventually tiredness sets in. With my eyes beginning to droop, my anger at my parents gives way to happy memories from earlier in the day.

In my mind, I see Tanner and me at the sushi place, picking colorful items off a conveyor. Then we're walking around town.
He knows so many cool things about this place!
I hear him explaining how William Clark and Sacagawea visited this beach during the Lewis and Clark Expedition. And how Cannon Beach is named after an old cannon that washed ashore in 1846 from a US Navy schooner that sank while trying to cross the Columbia River bar. Then I see us visiting the site where the cannon remains to this very day. All the while, as we walk from place to place in my mind, I remember how good it feels to not feel sorry for myself. At no time when I was with him did I have the thought that some other kid out there has to die in order for me to live. There was no wondering how old I'll be when I die. For those few hours with Tanner, I was just a normal girl, and it was magical.

As the memories continue, I feel myself drifting off. With my final thought, I pray that the memories will continue while I sleep, so that I can say without question that Tanner Rich is the man of my dreams…

  

Without Dad around, Saturday flies by. Mom is in a rotten mood; she spends most of her time reading Grandma's old journals, which have held her attention for the better part of a week. Since Bree already knows I'm going to win the first week of the Winner's Game, her overt acts of kindness toward Cade and me have slowed somewhat, leaving her more time to fiddle with her art supplies, but I know that as soon as the next round starts, she'll be right back at it—she's really taking this seriously; if I'm not careful, she might just sneak out a win.

Nah…I'm not going to let that happen. If she thinks she can be nice, I can be nicer!

For his part, Cade wants to spend all day on the beach with his metal detector, believing he's going to find something to make him rich. I keep reminding him that he already found something more valuable than money when he dug up Grandpa's letter to Grandma, but he's bound and determined to keep looking. Actually, I don't mind so much, because while he's on the beach with his gadget, I get to lie out in the sun daydreaming of Tanner.

On Sunday, just before dinner, Mom calls us to the kitchen table to share the point totals from our notebooks. It takes a few minutes to correctly tally them, but when all is said and done, there is no surprise that I've won by a landslide. For my effort, I get the first choice of seats in the car next week, and a big fat “1” next to my name on a Weekly Winner's chart that Mom hangs on the side of the fridge.

“Now, everyone flip to the next page in your notebook,” Mom tells us, “and we'll start the scoring all over again for the week ahead. You've all got a blank slate—tabula rasa—so it's anyone's game.”

“Actually,” remarks Bree, “it's my game. This week, I won't lose.”

“We'll see about that,” says Cade.

I nod and smile. “Yes, we will.”

As soon as Mom gives the official “Go,” the second week of the Winner's Game starts out just like the first did, with Bree and Cade rattling off as many inauthentic compliments as they can think of—mostly to me, but also to each other—only by now they've learned to say “thank you” to the compliments so they can give themselves a point for being polite, which is how I took such a big lead last week.

After five minutes I call a time-out. “Everybody just hold up a second. Bree, what's your score right now?”

My sister counts up the marks in her notebook and says, “Eighteen.”

“Cade, how about you?”

He does the same and says, quite proudly, “Twenty-two.”

“And I'm at sixteen.”

“So you're losing,” Bree points out, with no small amount of satisfaction.

“Am I? I've hardly even tried, and I'm only down two points.”

She cocks her head to the side. “So what's your point?”

“That this isn't really working right now. When we're all just saying a bunch of stuff we don't mean so we can give ourselves a point, and then the other person takes a point for saying ‘thank you,' it's a wash. Nobody gets ahead. Not really.”

Mom has been listening closely to the conversation. She steps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ann makes a good point. I know it's great practice to say nice things to each other, but if your only intent is to do it so you can rack up quick points, isn't that missing the purpose?”

Bree shrugs. “You made up the game, not us.”

“Actually, Grandma did,” Mom says, correcting her. “But her intent was to motivate Grandpa and herself to be genuinely kinder to each other, not to pay lip service for the sake of a win.”

Frowning, Cade says, “Don't tell me, you want to change the rules again.”

“No,” Mom says with a chuckle. “But can I make a suggestion? Rather than simply saying nice things for the sake of saying them, perhaps you'd be wise to try doing things for your siblings that will actually make them happy. As Ann pointed out, at the rate you're going, nobody is really going to win. Maybe you need to be a little sneakier about your good deeds—and I know you all know a thing or two about being sneaky. Do things for your brother or sisters when they aren't looking, or when they least suspect it, so you can earn points without them knowing. I'm not saying you have to, I'm just saying…think about it.”

Cade looks concerned. “If we're doing things in private, how will anyone know if we really earned all the points we mark down? Like maybe Bree will mark points she didn't really earn and nobody will be able to prove she didn't, so she'll cheat and win.”

“I'm not a cheater,” counters Bree. “I don't need to cheat to beat you.”

“Nobody's calling anyone a cheater,” says Mom. “A big part of being kind and loving is trust. In order for this to work, you have to trust that you're all playing fair. And remember, if you're all thinking of everyone else, earning points will be a cinch.”

“I'll still be the one with the hundred dollars,” I mumble.

Mom shoots me a look. “Just give it a try, kids. Be on the lookout for things to really make each other happy. That doesn't mean you can't say nice things too, but random compliments shouldn't be the extent of your kindness, especially if you don't mean them. Be creative with it. Have fun. That's when it will really become a game. Or perhaps that's when the game will become
real
.” She pauses, taking a moment to look at each of us. “You know what? There is one request I'd like to make. When your father gets here later this week, that's when you need to be extrasneaky. Don't hide the fact that you're being nice to each other and doing kind things, just don't let him see your scorecards. Make that part of your game, OK? Keep being nice, just don't let him know what you're up to. I want it to be a little bit of a surprise when he finds out.”

“Why?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Because if he finds out too soon, I might not be able to convince him to play too.” She pauses again, no doubt thinking about her phone conversation with Dad on Friday night. “And I
really
need him to play.”

Overnight, Mom's suggestion that we be a little more covert in our kindness must've really taken root in someone, because on Monday morning, after taking a shower, I return to my room to find that my bed is made up perfectly and there is a piece of chocolate on the pillow! Then, when I go to pick out an outfit, I discover that someone has folded every single article of clothing in my drawers!

To earn a point for myself, I quickly head for the closet and pick up Bree's dirty laundry from the floor, then take it downstairs and throw it in the wash.

As I pull out my notebook to mark my score, I decide it's actually worth more like three points—one for picking up, one for carrying the load downstairs, and one for putting it in the wash.

Later in the morning I spot Cade tiptoeing out of the attic with something behind his back. “Uh-oh, what are you up to?”

“Nothin',” he replies, with the guiltiest look ever. “It's none of your beeswax.”

“Then why are you hiding something behind your back?”

“I'm not.” He inches along the wall, making sure to keep his back hidden from my view. Once he's past me, he darts down the stairs and out of sight. An hour later, when I return to my room, there is an old four-by-six picture on my bed of Great-grandpa holding a baby. There's also a note, written in Cade's crummy handwriting, which reads,
I found this in the attic. Thought you'd like to have it.

On the back of the picture, in blue ink, it reads,
Ann & G-Pa Al, 1996.

He died three years later, just a couple months before Bree was born.

Though we're all having fun sneaking around throughout the day earning secret kindness points, when the doorbell rings at three o'clock, winning the game is suddenly the farthest thing from my mind. I know I'm all smiles when I answer the door, but I don't care.

Tanner is smiling too. “Hey, you still got time for me today?”

“Are you kidding? I've been waiting all weekend.” I don't mean to sound so eager, but I can't help it.

He comes inside to say hi to everyone and then asks if I want to go for a walk on the beach.

As we're heading for the back door, we pass by Bree, who I can tell is totally jealous, which is a little troubling, because she's too young for him anyway. Why can't she just let me enjoy this for right now without sticking her nose in it? She'll have her turn. But me?
This could be my only chance to have a genuine relationship with a really cute guy!

As we walk, Tanner shares more fun facts about Cannon Beach. I always knew, for instance, that the giant rock out there is called Haystack Rock. What I didn't know is that the smaller, pointy rocks near its southern edge are called The Needles…as in, needles in the haystack.

At one point Tanner wants to jog in the wet sand. I know I shouldn't…but I do it anyway.

Oh my gosh, I'm so out of shape
!
As we're jogging, I feel a sharp prick in my chest after about thirty seconds, so I tell him I just want to walk. I'm pretty sure he sees me flinch, because he asks if everything is OK. I lie and say I'm fine.

At least now I know what my limits are:
Spending time with Tanner? Good. Jogging? Bad.

Tanner comes over again on Tuesday, but this time it's kind of drizzly, so we stay inside and play games. Mom likes that a lot more, because she can keep an eye on us. Cade likes having Tanner there too, but Bree still seems jealous.

Oh my gosh…!
Does she think he's going to fall madly in love with her? Who knows what goes on in that girl's mind sometimes.

On Wednesday, Tanner wants to go for a bike ride, but I tell him I'm not a big fan of bikes. I happen to love riding bikes, but it's the only thing I can think of to get out of it. It's a worthy lie, though, because instead of biking he takes me horseback riding on the beach!

Mom says it's too risky for me, but when am I going to have another chance? Besides, it's not like I have to do anything but sit in the saddle and steer.

The best part is when Tanner helps me climb on the horse. Even if it is brief, his hands are on my waist to lift me, sending butterflies through my stomach. The good kind of butterflies, not the ones that bite.

The next day when Tanner comes over, I'm in the mood for another walk on the beach.

“Fine,” says Mom, “but just to warn you, I might send Cade and Bree to spy on you, so be good.”

Sure enough, I catch the two of them sneaking along about fifty yards back. Tanner sees them too. “Too bad they're there,” he says coolly.

“Why?”

“I dunno…I just thought…maybe if you wanted, we could hold hands. But they'd probably tell your mom.”

“They would definitely tell her,” I reply, feeling my cheeks getting hot. I quickly glance over my shoulder once more. Bree is watching us like a hawk.
Perfect.
I swallow hard, then tell him, “But I don't care what they say.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Another rush of butterflies swarm as he takes my hand in his!

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