The Winner's Game (22 page)

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Authors: Kevin Alan Milne

BOOK: The Winner's Game
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Now I'm
really
confused.

Who is this imposter, and what's happened to the real Dell Bennett?

“Why?” I ask, almost reluctant to know the answer.

He shrugs. “I wanted to cook you breakfast in bed, but I burned the bacon.”

I am frozen. I can feel my lip starting to quiver—mostly from guilt. And a tear is tugging at the corner of my eye. “Why?” I ask again.

Dell allows a sheepish smile to brighten his face. “Because I really want to go deep-sea fishing in December.” He pauses. “I figured breakfast in bed would be a good way to give me an early lead.”

The game! Oh my gosh…he remembered! Even after a long night's sleep, he remembered. And I…forgot.

The tear breaks free. “I'm so sorry, Dell. Take a point for trying. Heck, take ten. You deserve it.”

“You forgot, didn't you? When you saw the smoke, your instincts took over, and you forgot we were playing.”

“This game is going to be harder than I thought.”

“Yeah.”

“You bit your tongue, didn't you? When I was yelling at you. You wanted to lash out, but you held back.”

He nods.

“Then take a point for that too,” I tell him. “Plus one for apologizing. That couldn't have been easy.”

Now his mouth stretches into a grin. “No, it wasn't. But to be honest, it was not as bad as I thought. Certainly a lot easier than hours of fighting and being mad, and I'm pretty sure that's the direction we were headed.” He quietly pulls his notebook from his pocket and makes a few marks on the first page.

I can't stop myself. I walk across the room and wrap my arms around him in a giant hug. “Thank you, Dell. Thank you so much.” I love being this close to him. It makes me feel…
whole
.

The rest of the day isn't perfect, but it's much better than usual. We're both trying hard to be nicer to each other, and it shows. Especially Dell—he really is competitive, making it clear that he wants to win. Whenever I'm on the verge of picking a fight with him for something innocuous, all he says is “Cabo,” and suddenly the tension is gone.

By the time we crawl into bed at night, I can tell he's really starting to get into the swing of things, because he pays me a compliment for no reason at all: “You smell really nice tonight. Is that a new perfume?”

“Nice of you to notice,” I reply dryly. “I've been wearing this same perfume since Christmas. You put it in my stocking.”

“Did I?” He sounds embarrassed, but he laughs it off. “I guess I'm not surprised that I'm not more familiar with it. We haven't been all that close since then.”

“No.”

“I'm sorry about that, by the way.”

“I know. Me too.”

“But it's going to get better, right?”

“Yeah. I hope so.”

The darkness goes quiet for a minute. Then he reiterates something that validates my hope. “I
am
going to beat you at this game, Emily. I just want you to know that.” His voice is kind, but earnest. “I don't want to fight with you anymore, so whatever it takes, I'm going to win. I'm going to win
you.

“I don't know about that. I'm very good at games.”

“At Scrabble, yes. But dear, this is not Scrabble.”

For a moment, I can't speak.
He called me “dear”!
“We'll see about that,” I tell him finally. “Because I'm pretty set on winning too. Fishing for our anniversary just doesn't sound like fun to me. Not when we could be in the City of Love.”

He hesitates for a moment before speaking. When he does, there is worry in his voice. “If we go away on a big anniversary…what will we do with Ann?”

Good question.
In my zeal for an improved marriage, I haven't considered such details. The unfortunate truth about his question, which I'm sure we're both thinking, but neither of us will say, is that if Ann doesn't get her new heart soon, it may be a moot point. There's a chance she might not still be around in December. What will we do then? How could our family exist without her? How could we leave Bree and Cade alone without their big sister, just so we can go off on some grand trip?

I can feel the mood in the room has changed. It's gotten suddenly cooler. And darker. “We'll figure something out,” I whisper.

He sighs. “How do you think she's doing?”

“Physically, or emotionally?”

“All of the above.”

Now I sigh too. I'm sure she's upstairs at this very moment wondering what in the world she could have done differently with Tanner. It breaks my heart every time I see her. She's trying so hard to put on a brave face, but I know inside it must be killing her. I just wish I knew what caused him to turn on her so quickly. Did he think of this as a summer fling? But how could he after what she told him? He just didn't seem like that kind of boy. But then, I only met him a few times, and he'd have been on his best behavior.

I wish I could do something to help her—just rewind the clock somehow and have it go perfectly next time. Or perhaps I just need to go find that boy and shake some sense into him.

“She's…hanging in there,” I tell Dell with as much optimism as I can muster, which isn't much. “You were right all along, Dell. She shouldn't have gotten involved with him. She didn't need this heartache right now.”

A breeze from outside lifts the curtains away from the window for a few seconds, adding some light to the room. In the moonlight I can see that Dell is lying on his back on his twin bed. His hands are behind his head.

I wish he wasn't so far away…

The room goes dark again, and I see the dark form of his body roll over toward the other wall. “Good night, Em,” he whispers.

“G'night.”

  

Despite the melancholy that put us to bed, in the morning I can tell that Dell still intends to win our little game, because he does something that I thought he might never do again, and what I wished he'd have done last night.
He kisses me!
Not only that, but he calls all the kids into the kitchen to watch.

“I need you all to be witnesses,” he explains before revealing his plan. “Because I'm about to earn a ton of points.” Then he wraps me up and plants a bunch of rapid-fire kisses on my lips. He ends with one long one, then proudly shouts, “Ha! Were you all counting? Twenty kisses! That's got to be the fastest twenty points any of us has earned.”

“Tied for fastest,” I tell him playfully. “Because I just earned twenty points too.”

“How?”

“I was kissing back.”
Now this game is going exactly as I had hoped!

“Oh, your mother is sneaky, kids.” He grabs me again before I can slip away—not that I'm really trying to—and plants twenty kisses on my cheek. “There. Those twenty points are all mine. If I have to kiss my way to victory in this game, I will.” He pauses. “And don't tell me your cheek was kissing me back.”

“If that's how you want to play, I certainly won't stop you.”

Our eyes linger on each other for an extralong moment. It's the kind of affectionate stare we used to share before life got all complicated. When he's done admiring me, he turns to Cade. “What do you think? Care to try this strategy on your sisters? Kissing is easy points.”

“Uh…not on your life.”

Ann pretends to take offense. “What? You're too good to kiss me?”

“No, I just…”

She hunches over and points at her cheek. “Well, c'mon then. You're the one who made a big deal about me never having been kissed. Man up, Cade, and give me one right there.”

Embarrassed, Cade takes two large steps backward. I'm about to tell him how cute he is when he's blushing, but then he opens his rotten, eleven-year-old mouth. “Sorry, Ann, your last hope for getting a kiss was Tanner, and you blew it.”

Just like that, all of the air is sucked out of the room.

Ann stands up straight, looking like she's been stabbed.

For the past few days we've all tried so hard to avoid using the T-word, and Ann has done a decent job pretending like the sting of seeing Tanner with another girl didn't pierce her to the core. The look on her face, however, suggests the charade is over.

“Winner's Game or not,” she hisses, “that was
cruel
. I won't say I hate you, Cade, but right now…I won't say I don't.” She spins on her heels and rushes out of the room.

“Dude,” Bree says slowly, “you totally crushed her.”

“I…I didn't mean to. It just came out.”

“You owe her an apology,” Dell says. “A big one.”

“I know. I will.”

“Let her cool off first,” I tell them both. “She'll need a while before she's ready to talk.”

Cade responds with a nod.

Dell gives Cade a long, disappointed look. “In the meantime, your mother and I have some errands to run.” As he's speaking, he looks at me affectionately, almost making me forget that our daughter just ran off in tears. “We'll probably be gone beyond lunchtime, so just fix yourself something to eat. And keep an eye on Ann. Cade, she's your responsibility until she has a smile on her face.”

“Fine,” Cade mumbles.

“Oh, and I have a little surprise. To earn another point in this game, I made reservations for a nice dinner at the Stephanie Inn—one of your mom's favorite places.”

I can feel my heart jump with excitement. “You did?”

“Uh-huh. I thought the kids would enjoy it too, so we'll all go.” He turns back to Cade and Bree. “It's down the beach a ways, but I thought we could walk there. We'll probably need to leave by about five, so you two make sure Ann knows, so she's ready to go.”

Y
OU CAN'T JUST
leave by yourself,” I tell Bree after my parents are gone. She's heading out the back door in her flip-flops.

“Sure I can. Just watch me.” She opens the door and walks onto the deck without slowing down.

I run out after her. “But what about Ann?”

“She's your problem until Mom and Dad get back. I'm not staying inside all day when I don't have to.” I continue watching for a minute longer as she tiptoes across the lawn, onto the sand, and starts walking north up the beach.

“Great,” I mumble as I go back inside. “Now I'm stuck.” It's my own fault, though. If I hadn't opened my big mouth about Tanner, Ann wouldn't be upstairs crying, and I wouldn't be here babysitting her. I do feel bad about it. I mean…I wasn't trying to be a jerk.

After a while I go up to Ann's room to talk to her about what I said, but she's locked me out. All she says to me through the door is, “Go away, Cade, I'm not in the mood to talk.”

So I try again a little later.

And then again.

“Fine,” I tell her on the fourth attempt, “but don't say I didn't try. Oh yeah, and I left your meds outside the door. Mom says you haven't taken them in a couple days. Just because you're mad at Tanner doesn't mean you can stop taking your medicine. And Dad says you need to be ready to walk to the Stephanie Inn for dinner by five. You can't wear shorts, but pants and flip-flops are OK. And in case you're wondering, I really am sorry about what I said.”

At two o'clock Bree finally returns.

My parents don't get home until after four o'clock. I consider telling them about Bree, but I decide not to so I can give myself a point for not tattling. Ann still hasn't come out of her room. In fact, she doesn't come down until Dad calls for her a few minutes before five o'clock.

“How are you feeling?” asks Mom when she sees her coming down the stairs.

“I'm fine.” She doesn't look fine.

“See, she's fine,” says Bree, sounding impatient. “Can we get going now?”

“Lead the way,” Dad tells her. “You and Cade.”

As we walk toward the Stephanie Inn, Mom and Ann stay a few steps behind the rest of us.

“Is it just my imagination,” Mom asks Ann, “or have I seen you grimacing in pain a couple times this week? Is there something you're not telling us?”

“It's nothing.”

“Earlier today, when Cade said…what he said, was it more than just his words that hurt? I could have sworn you winced.”

“I had a little gas or heartburn or something.”

“In your chest?”

“Yeah, but…it's not serious. It went away. Besides, the doctors said I might have pains.”

“Yeah, as your condition gets worse! Ann, you need to keep us in the loop on these things. Maybe you're doing too much.”

“I'm not doing
anything
, other than reading books on the beach, watching TV, and going for walks.”

“And horse rides.”

“Fine, yes, horse rides too. But if that's too much, then—”

I turn around to see why she's stopped talking. Ann is watching an old man and woman coming toward us, both of them grinning suspiciously. The man is holding a long-stemmed red rose. The rest of my family sees the couple too, and we all sort of slow down together to see what is going on.

When he is just a few feet away, the man holds out the rose to Ann. “I believe this belongs to you,” he says, and then he and the woman continue walking.

“Wait,” calls Ann. “What's this for?”

The man turns around and winks, but keeps walking.

Everyone huddles around Ann excitedly. “Why did he give you that?” I ask.

“Probably just an old creeper,” remarks Bree. “Likes to flatter girls.”

Dad looks worried. He still has an eye on the old couple as they walk away.

Mom is the first to notice a small string tied to the stem, just below the petals. The string has a tiny piece of paper attached to it, like a tag, no bigger than my pinky fingernail. “What's that?”

Ann flips the paper over. “It says,
N
.” She passes it around so everyone can see for themselves.

“This is superweird,” says Bree when it is handed to her. “What kind of person just hands a rose to a complete stranger?”

No sooner does she say it than a boy, about eight years old, leaves his parents and comes running over with his hands behind his back. “S'cuse me,” he says, then produces another long-stemmed rose from behind his back. He hands it to Ann and then takes off running.

“It has another thingy on it,” I tell my sister immediately.

Ann is still staring at the boy. When he reaches his parents, they all wave at us, then start walking up the beach.

“It's an
O
,” says Bree. “
N.O.

I can hardly contain myself. “No!”

“Great, you can spell,” Bree deadpans. “But what does it mean?”

Ann's eyes are darting back and forth between the rose and the boy who delivered it. “This is kind of freaking me out.”

“Any chest pains?” asks Mom.

Ann rolls her eyes.

For the next minute we stand right where we are, watching people walking by, wondering if the next stranger might be carrying another rose. Eventually Dad says we need to keep going, but we've barely gone twenty steps when a barefoot jogger comes out of nowhere, turning toward us with a rose in her hand. Without saying a word, and barely breaking her stride, she hands the flower to Ann, who is now more confused than ever.

Whatever is going on, it is definitely not by chance.

“It's a
T
,” she tells everyone after inspecting the tiny paper. “‘
Not
.'”

“Not what?” asks Dad.

“Not normal,” says Bree.

Mom snickers. “Just what I was thinking.”

For the next twenty minutes, the pattern continues. Every couple of minutes a new stranger appears carrying a rose with a tiny tag tied to it. There is no obvious rhyme or reason to the people—some are old, some young, some by themselves, some in groups, some in swimsuits, some fully clothed. The only thing they all have in common is that they all have roses, and they all give them to Ann without saying anything. There are lots of smiles, though, and giggling from the younger ones.

“‘
Not what u thin
,'” says Ann slowly, reading all of the tags in order.

“Maybe someone thinks you're fat,” says Bree. “‘Not thin.'”

Ann ignores the comment. “I'm pretty sure there's still at least one more rose to come.”

As we continue farther south, past Haystack Rock, I watch closely up and down the beach. By this time we are all pretty sure that Tanner is hiding somewhere in the crowd. Sure enough, when a cluster of people ahead of us splits up, there is one person left standing there.

And he's carrying a rose in one hand.

And grinning from ear to ear.

Dad was all smiles a moment earlier, but now he looks mad. “I said stay away from my daughters,” he growls as we all stop walking.

Tanner doesn't seem to hear him. He is walking toward us, still smiling. When he is within arm's reach of Ann, he finally stops and hands her the rose.

She quickly inspects the tag. “
K
,” she says aloud. “‘
Not what u think
.'”

Before she can say anything else, Tanner jumps in to explain. “It's not what you think, Ann. The girl I was with is Laura, my sister. She lives with my dad in Portland.”

Shocked, Ann looks around at everyone. Mom is smiling happily, obviously loving the attention Ann is getting. Dad seems…humbled. Bree is harder to read, because she is biting her lip.

“I'm really sorry,” says Tanner. “If I'd known that you saw me and her walking, I could've explained.”

My father jumps on that comment. “Well, why were you arm in arm with your sister in the first place?”

Tanner's face turns instantly pink. “It's a little embarrassing. We were just walking to the store and I was telling her about…well, about Ann. And she asked if we'd held hands, and I'm like—” He stops for a second, still staring nervously at my dad. “Anyway, she said she thinks it's cool when girls hold on to guys' arms. It's like more romantic or something. She was just showing me how. That must've been when you drove by.”

There is an awkward silence, which Dad finally kills with an even more awkward, “Oops.”

“Oops is right,” says Mom. “Sorry for shooing you away so quickly, Tanner. But kudos to you for…” She motions to Ann and the roses. “For this. It's very sweet.”

Tanner looks really relieved. “Well, you said the house was off-limits, so I figured catching you on the beach was the only real option I had.”

Ann shifts slightly, squinting in the sun. “But how did you know we saw you arm in arm? And how did you know we would be here on the beach right now?”

“Yeah,” chimes Bree. “Are you, like, stalking us?” Under her breath she mutters, “Creepy.”

Tanner looks quickly at my mom, then back to Ann. “A little bird told me,” he says. “And good thing, too. I was pretty bummed. The worst part was not knowing what I did wrong.”

“Which bird?” asks Dad.

Tanner smiles sheepishly. “I can't reveal my sources.”

“Well, it's perfect,” Ann says like she's in the middle of a dream.

“And cheesy,” Bree says under her breath.

Ann shuts her up with a quick glare.

Tanner is shuffling his feet in the sand. “So am I forgiven?”

Rather than simply telling him yes, Ann steps forward and gives him a huge hug.

“Gross,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“So forgiven,” Ann whispers while they're still hugging. When Dad makes a little
ahem
sound, she lets go and steps back.

“Then I have two more things,” Tanner tells her.

I hadn't noticed before, but Tanner had one hand behind his back the whole time he was standing there, even while Ann was hugging him. When he brings his other hand around front, he is holding a piece of paper and small box. First he hands the paper to Dad. “This is for you, sir.”

At first Dad looks concerned, but once he starts reading, his mouth turns into a smile. “A blatant appeal to the lawyer in me,” he says when he's done.

“Read it out loud, Dell,” Mom tells him. “We all want to hear.”

Dad clears his throat. “
Mr. Bennett, I'm sorry for all of the confusion. The last time we spoke, you said I broke a verbal agreement. Would you mind if we formalized that agreement in writing?
” Still smiling, he looks up at Ann, then continues. “There's a subtitle that reads,
Application to date your daughter:
Under contractual agreement, I, the undersigned applicant, do hereby swear to do nothing that would undermine the trust of Dell and Emily Bennett. For the right and privilege of dating their daughter, Ann Bennett, I do solemnly promise to be courteous and kind to her at all times, to treat her with respect, and to ensure her safety. I do also promise that she will be brought home on time. Furthermore, and above all, I do agree that I will not break Ann's heart. Signed, Tanner Rich.
” He pauses, slowly eyeing Tanner. “Young man, I'll be happy to countersign this when we get back to the house. You have my permission to take Ann on a date.”

Tanner is grinning. “Awesome. Then, Ann, this is for you.”

When she opens up the small box, there is a note inside:
Ann Bennett, please do me the honor of going on at least one date with me. Time? Tomorrow night at six pm. Dinner? Yes. Other activity? It's a surprise!

Below the note is a tightly folded pair of plastic dish gloves. “Uhh…?” she says when she holds them up.

“They're for our date,” he says, smiling.

“Rubber gloves?” asks Dad. “Maybe I should rethink signing this.”

“Trust me, sir, there's nothing to worry about. It's not anything weird. Just…
unique.
She'll appreciate the gloves.”

“Well, thank you,” Ann says. “I think. I look forward to…whatever it is we're doing.” She turns to Mom. “And thank you for talking to Tanner.”

“Well, if it was me, I'm not saying. My lips are officially locked.” She turns an imaginary key near her mouth.

“That's what Ann really wants,” I snicker. “
Lip locking!

Ann goes rigid. “Can I punch him, Mom?
Please
?

Everyone laughs except Tanner, who is blushing.

“Cade,” Dad says, “consider yourself warned. One more comment like that and I'll let her at you.”

“I can outrun her easily.”

“But you can't hide forever, little man,” she says, holding up a clenched fist.

“Ah, sibling love,” says Mom. “And on that note, I think it's about time for our dinner reservation. I bet we can squeeze in one more. Tanner, you care to join us?”

“I'd love to,” he replies, “but my mom and Laura are already cooking something. I think they'll be mad if I skip. Thanks anyways, though.” He looks at Ann. “So, tomorrow night?”

“I'll be waiting.”

As Tanner walks away, Ann takes several big sniffs of the roses, breathing in the aroma.

“You act like you've never smelled flowers before,” says Bree as we continue walking toward the inn.

Ann takes another long breath. “These don't smell like ordinary roses,” she says. “They smell more like…
happiness
.”

I expect the comment to earn a complaint from Bree, but instead she just smiles back and then skips ahead.

I stay with Ann at the back of the group. As we walk, she takes another long breath of the fragrance.

Amazing
.
To think that thirteen flowers can heal someone so quickly.

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