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The Winner's Game(96)

By:Kevin Alan Milne


“According to what she wrote, this became their most prized reminders that the love they shared was a treasure.”

Grandma nods. Now there is a happy little tear in her eye. “Yes,” she says resolutely. Then she reaches out and takes my hand, and her eyes begin to water even more. “I miss him, Em’ly.”

“I know you do, Grandma. I miss him too.”

“I’ll see him soon,” she whispers.

“Not too soon, I hope.”

“Soon,” she says again. It doesn’t sound like she’s giving up, more like she’s just certain that her time is drawing near and that she isn’t afraid of what’s to come.

On the drive home from the nursing facility, I ask for an update on the kids’ scores for the third week of their game.

While Ann and Bree pull out their miniature notepads, Cade quickly throws some compliments their way to help bolster his score. “Bree, have I told you today how much I love you? And your hair looks kinda nice—not so poufy, like it normally does.”

“Gee, thanks,” she replies. “Right back at you.”

“And Ann, I love you too. You’re smart and funny and pretty and…smart.”

“Smart twice, eh?” she says, chuckling. “I must be really smart. Thanks, Cade.”

Cade quickly jots down some marks on his score sheet, then tallies everything up.

“Everyone ready to share?” I ask.

“I am,” Cade blurts out. “Ninety, on the dot.” Glancing at his sisters on either side of him, he adds, “Beat that.”

“OK,” says Ann. “I think I will. I’m at one hundred and two.”

A look of disappointment crosses Cade’s face, but I reassure him that he’s still within striking distance, with the rest of the day still to go.

“Bree?” asks Dell. “How about you?”

Bree was all smiles before Ann and Cade read their scores. Now, though, she looks despondent. I’m pretty sure she’s on the verge of tears. “Do I have to share?”

Dell is driving, so he can’t see her expression. “I think it’s only fair,” he tells her. “So that Ann and Cade know what they have to do to beat you. Aren’t you the one who was so adamant you were going to win this week?”

“Yeah, but…I messed up.” Now a tear does escape, cascading down her face until it drops onto her lap.

“It’s OK, Bree,” I assure her. “You’ve done wonderfully. You’ve gotten along with Ann and Cade so well this week, and that’s the whole point. Just tell us your score; maybe you’re still close enough that you can work extrahard today to catch them.”

“Thirty-three,” she whispers through more tears. Then she flips to another page in her notebook and rips it out. “Here, Cade,” she says, reaching across Ann to hand it to him. “This is for you. Number thirty-four.”

Cade reads the message on the paper several times, but looks confused by it. “What is this? A poem?”

“A clue,” she says, choking up. “You’ll need the metal detector.”

“Oh, Bree,” I say, reaching behind Dell’s seat to touch her knee. “That is the sweetest thing ever. Cade, tell us what it says.”

He reads it silently once more, then finally shares it aloud: “Pirate Boy near haystack’s slope, near the needles you must grope, in the sand, for there you’ll find, a piece of metal left behind.” His eyes light up now that he understands what it is. “You mean you buried a treasure for me?”

She nods. And sniffles. And wipes her nose, which is now running in time with her tears.

Dell adjusts the rearview mirror so he can see her too. “Sweetie, that’s very thoughtful. Why did you say you messed up?”

“Because. After we started the game over—when we stopped counting the negative things—I was really glad that we fought less, but I wanted to do more than just make up compliments all the time, like Cade, or be very polite and say ‘thank you’ to everyone like Ann. Then we started sneaking around doing little things here and there, like all the chocolates on my pillow and making beds for each other, and that was great too, but I still didn’t feel like I was giving Cade or Ann things that would make them really happy, you know? Like, really happy. So I thought of some things, and it took a lot of work; it’s made me really happy to do them, but…maybe a lot of little things is better than a couple big things, because I’m still the loser in the game.”

“You’re not the loser,” I tell her. “Remember, we all win if we’re all happier.”