“Nope, just bring me to the Super Bowl one more time, then we’ll celebrate your retirement.” He winks and then does a somersault dive to take cover behind the next overturned table.
Meanwhile, Everly and my brother tag team tossing dinner rolls, alternately popping up like a pair of whack-a-moles—that was our favorite game when the fair came to town when we were kids.
The food fight continues until the people who didn’t want to be part of it escape, my teammates sneak off, likely so they don’t get in trouble, and only a giant mess remains.
Leaving Everly, my brother, and me. The two of them sit on the floor next to a couple of toppled chairs.
The woman with her childlike innocence, cheerful spirit, and sunny smile breathed new life into me. She brought my brother back. Perhaps miracles do happen. I take a moment to thank God for this blessing before I straighten a path as I make my waytoward them, brushing aside discarded napkins, tables on their sides, and flowers spilling out of vases.
“What a night,” I say, joining them on the floor, which is a place my brother never would’ve sat. It was beneath him, literally, but he was also a man with wings—a pilot, always gazing upward and conducting himself in faith.
In the quiet, only broken by the soft exchange between my wife and brother, I add a prayer to my words of gratitude.
Everly smiles as I approach. It’s nighttime and the lights in the ballroom are dim, but the sun may as well be shining. With Everly, I know that everything will be okay. “Grey, there you are.”
“Grey?” Bran asks.
“Yeah, Greyson, your brother.”
I’ll never forget this moment because time stops as Bran’s face brightens. I can’t explain it any other way than whatever was happening before or whatever is to come doesn’t matter because Bran lifts his lips with the same lopsided grin I have, that our father had.
“My brother,” he repeats.
“Yes. I’m your brother. You’re a pilot, Ingrid and Pierce’s son, baseball fan, and uncle, missing in action for far too long.”
He looks down at himself. “And apparently a fan of Bermuda shirts and flip flops.”
“Good look, by the way,” I tease.
Everly’s eyes bounce between us as if she also recognizes what’s slowly happening.
Bran snaps his fingers. “Princess Papaya. Now I remember. We saw her show and I walked in on her serenading you once.”
I shake my head. “No, nope. We do not need that reminder.”
Everly laughs. “Can’t say that I’m unfamiliar with her song and dance. She used the same move on my ex-fiancé.”
“I heard her singing and somehow knew she’d bring me home,” Bran says softly as though he’s slowly making connections.
“We’re not home yet.”
With surprising strength, considering what he’s been through, vagabonding after Princess, Branclobbers me with a hug.
“Yes, I am, Grey. I am home.”
Thankfully, it’s only the three of us, but we’re all in tears.
It’s a family hug and the only people missing are Mom and Sonny.
When we part, I wipe my eyes and say, “And don’t you dare tell anyone. I have to uphold my reputation as being the toughest guy on the team for one more season.”
“Did you say one more?” Everly whispers.
“Just one more,” I reply.
“Are you sure?”
“I still have a few plays to make, but yeah. I want you and Sonny to see me win the Super Bowl.
