“Oh hey, this is my buddy Madden. He plays for Knoxville too.”
Stilts stood and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both.”
The four of us turned when the crowd across the field cheered as an opposing running back bolted for the end zone, scoring their third touchdown of the second quarter.
The loudspeaker crackled. “Touchdown Honeyville Eagles.” The announcer sounded depressed. “Could we please have all those involved in tonight’s homecoming festivities head to the left side of the bleachers and line up behind Mrs. Ross?”
I bomb-whistled. “I thought you were supposed to play the worst team in the district for Homecoming.”
Christy leaned in and whispered, “We are the worst team in the district, unfortunately. We’re in a rebuilding year. We lost twelve seniors. All starters.”
“Oof.” I laughed.
Holden kissed her temple. “Worst team with the hottest athletic director.” Then he tilted his head. “You better go on. It was good to see you.”
“You too. Oh.” I snapped my fingers. “Thank you,” I said to Holden. “For saving me from signing that terrible contract.”
“Absolutely. Anytime, Blue.”
I turned to go, but Christy caught me by the elbow. She smiled. “Don’t give up. She’s a good girl. If you grovel long enough, she might give you another chance.”
Holden winked and tipped his head at his wife. “She would know.”
“Thank you.” Then I took off. Anna’s updo was already disappearing down the stairs. I sped up, but there were ten people between us. Everyone and their dog stopped me on the way, asking for autographs, wishing me a quick recovery, asking where Mom and Colt were. At home, comfy in the house I’d had built for them last year, apparently. Colt was on JV but couldn’t actually care less about football.
By the time I arrived in line, the second-quarter clock had run out and Anna was already through the gate. The Stallions football team exited, their heads hung in shame. Poor guys. Wished I could get on the field and help them out. Even with my head injury, Stilts and I could probably whoop some trash.
Mrs. Ross, who I immediately recognized, smiled at me, her massive blue eyes sparkling. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite third-person omniscient narrator.”
I laughed. Mostly because Anna was ten feet away and I could feel her watching me and I knew it would make my dimple appear. She was a total sucker for my dimple. “I’m still traumatized byLord of the Flies, Mrs. Ross. Spoiler alert,” I said in the narrator’s voice I used to break into in her class, “the entire class had PTSD years later.”
She laughed. “It stuck with you though. See, that’s a good book.”
She was right. I’d hated that book but I remembered it, which was saying something in my current state. As she walked off, I gave my head a little shake. Because I realized I remembered a lot more than just that terrible book she’d made us pick apart for a solid month. I remembered playing here. And looking around, I recognized most of these people. Maybe it was the clean Seddledowne country air, or maybe it was being home, but I felt at peace here. Apparently, my mind did too.
Mrs. Ross, now standing by the players’ bench, picked up the microphone and began announcing the Homecoming court. Another teacher I didn’t recognize and decided must be new, waved me over and pointed for me to stand next to Anna. Absolutely yes. I walked to the spot. Then I shoved my shaking hands in the pockets of my dress pants and watched Anna from my periphery.
I needed to say something. I’d paid a lot of money to get her here tonight and it was time to get a return on my investment. As of now, even three feet between us, she was acting like I didn’t exist. I closed my eyes and breathed in her perfume. Something about the scent was familiar. Honeysuckle. When was the last time I’d smelled it? The memory was immediate. On her back deck here in Seddledowne, the night I told her I was moving.
The sun had just set. It was late spring, with almost no humidity yet. We were stuffed full of Lemon’s pasta primavera and her granny’s key lime pie. There was a light breeze that kept picking up the ends of her hair.
Anna closed her eyes and inhaled, leaning her head on my shoulder. “It’s almost summer. Do you smell that?”
I sniffed, the sweet scent tickling my nose. “Honeysuckle.” I pressed a kiss into her hair and pulled her closer to my side. I could never get enough of her.
She giggled. “Yeah. And now the bullfrogs are croaking in the river bottom. The only thing missing is?”
“Lightning bugs,” I murmured, running the tip of my nose up her cheek.
“Fireflies,” she corrected.
I shook my head. “You’re a traitor to the South if you don’t call them lightning bugs.”
“Ohh-kay.” She slapped a hand against my chest and started to get up.
I clamped down, holding her in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She smiled, pressing a kiss to my nose. “To see if Lemon has any jars before I forget. I have big plans for us this summer. Mainly, you and me out here every night, catching fireflies.” She patted my knee, trying to stand again. Again, I held her next to me. “Blue,” she laughed in frustration. “We’re going to need a jar we can poke some holes in the top of, so the little cuties can breathe.”
