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The Winner's Game(21)

By:Kevin Alan Milne


I keep my mouth shut, assuming that to be a rhetorical question.

Ann lifts a finger and traces the heart once more, slower this time. “Maybe I can change,” she says firmly. Then, less sure, she whispers, “Maybe not.”





              Chapter 9





Ann




THE SUN HASN’T yet peeked above the coastal range when Dad comes busting into our room asking if we want to go with him and Mom to Home Depot.

I rub my eyes and check the clock on the wall. 7:20 a.m.

“Why so early?”

“I’m heading back to Portland this evening, so I want to get a jump on the day. Your mom needs a few supplies—paint and stuff—so she can start sprucing this place up. Who wants to go with us?”

Bree is above me on the top bunk. She yawns loudly, then rolls over. “Not me.”

“Me neither,” I tell him, still squinting.

“That’s two strikes,” says Dad. Cade is standing behind him in the hallway. “How about you, son?”

“Strike three,” Cade mumbles. “I’d rather stay here.”

“I won’t force anyone. But we might be a while, so if you stay, there are a few rules. Ann, Bree, are you listening?” It takes several seconds, but he eventually gets Bree to roll back over and open her eyes. “Rule number one, no touching the ocean. You can go down to the beach, but not down to the water.”

Cade lets out a long, disappointed, groan. “Why not?”

“I can answer that in three syllables,” he replies. “Un-der-tow. The Oregon coast is powerful, and I’m not sure what time the tide is coming in today. You get caught by a sneaker wave and the undertow here will suck you right out to sea before you know it.”

“So we can’t ever go swimming?” asks Bree, sounding as disappointed as Cade. “We’ve played in the water here before.”

“I didn’t say ‘never.’ All I’m saying is that I don’t want you in the water when your mom or I aren’t there to watch. It’s too dangerous.”

“But Ann is a varsity swimmer,” Cade argues.

My heart starts pounding when he says it, because I, for one, have no interest in getting near the ocean. It’s cold, and wet, and…well I’m not a huge fan of water these days. I haven’t mentioned this to anyone, but I’m lucky to get up the nerve to step into the shower, and soaking in the bath is completely out of the question, because what is a bathtub, really, but a miniature swimming pool. The last time I got in a swimming pool, I barely made it out.

Dad shakes his head. “And she, above all, is in no shape to face those currents. Got it?”

I secretly breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

“Good,” he continues after we all nod, “then the only other rule is…?” He leaves it hanging there, waiting for one of us to finish the thought.

“No fighting,” mutters Bree.

“Bingo! Ann doesn’t need chaos, so I expect you two to be on your best behavior while we’re gone. Don’t do anything that’s going to get your sister worked up. Understood?”

Cade answers with a simple, “Yes.”

“Bree?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fantastic. We should be back by noon. Feel free to make yourself some breakfast. There’s plenty of cereal. Eggs, too, if you’re in the mood to cook. If we’re not back by twelve thirty, there are sandwich makings in the fridge.” He says a final good-bye, and then goes to meet Mom in the car.

“Uggh,” groans Bree after he is gone. “Now I can’t go back to sleep.”

“Tell me about it. Couldn’t they have just left a note?”

“I’ve got to pee,” Cade deadpans.

Ew. Little brothers are disgusting.

Fifteen minutes later everyone is dressed and downstairs eating scrambled eggs. After breakfast we turn on the television, but to our everlasting dismay, the dumb thing only picks up four channels, and even those are marred by static. The last time we visited Great-grandma’s house, back when her health first started going south, she at least had the basic cable channels. Perhaps Aunt Bev had them turned off, since Grandma now lives full-time in the care facility. Out of boredom, Bree and Cade seem willing to put up with the fuzziness, but I’m itching to do something more exciting. I sit there for a while, but eventually I announce I’m going for a walk. “There are some cool shops up the road that I want to check out. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“You can’t go by yourself,” Bree protests, playing the part of the responsible one, which I find highly unusual. “What if…you know, something happens.”