Page 26 of Fumble Into the End Zone
Me
Why
Bryce
Media training.
Me
I know how to answer questions.
Bryce
You are too honest and blunt
I shrugged as if he was in the car with me. My grandpa told me if a man can’t handle the truth, he wouldn’t hesitate to lie.
Bryce
Free Food.
Me
I’m there
When the gray bubbles appeared, I was already laughing.
Bryce
Damn shame.
Sitting in the parents’ pick up line, I knew Harley would be happy. I didn’t tell her I had the week off. Every luxury car you could name sat in this line, from Bentleys to Rolls Royces. The people in this neighborhood are rolling in the dough. As I pulled up, Harley’s eyes ballooned.
“Daddy!” she yelled.
The teacher’s grip on her hand kept her from bouncing off the sidewalk. I unlocked the door, and she showed the teacher how to let up the seat.
“Daddy, you didn’t have to work today?” she questioned as she held onto the headrest.
“Nope, I’m all yours this week. Strap yourself in,” I said.
She sat in the seat and pulled the seat belt over her body with excitement.
“How was school today?” I asked as I focused on a way out of the school pickup line.
“Good, but I still miss my friends in Ohio,” she said.
Adjusting to new kids hadn’t gone as well as I would have wished. For the first four weeks, the teacher sent emails saying she was withdrawn. Last week, she connected with two girls in class.
“We can call them tonight,” I said.
“Yesssss!” She fist pumped from the back seat.
“Before we go check on Granny, we are going to stop by your Uncle Bryce's house. He has free food,” I said.
“Do I call him Uncle Bryce?” she questioned.
I chuckled as I weighed if I wanted to give him the honor of a title. “Yea, you can call him Uncle Bryce. He is my quarterback,” I said.
