Read Online Fourth Down by Kirsten DeMuzio - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kirsten DeMuzio
Ads: Link
warn
you.”
Half an hour later we arrived at my
mom’s house, pizza in hand. My brothers immediately started
devouring it as soon as I set it on the table. I introduced Ford to
my mom and Rick and dropped my bag off in the living room. When I
came back to the dining room, Rick was talking to Ford about what a
tragedy it was that he was injured right before being drafted. Ford
looked more uncomfortable than I had ever seen him, and he looked
to me with pleading in his eyes.
Before I could intervene, one of my
brothers piped up, “You play football? That’s cool! We can watch
the game together.” The other two cheered for that suggestion
around mouthfuls of pizza.
“That’ll be fun,” my mom said as she
quickly kissed each little boy and dragged Rick out the door. “Call
me only if it’s an emergency. We’ll be back by 11:00.”
I gave a half-hearted wave and focused
my attention on my brothers, who were peppering Ford with all kinds
of football questions. Seriously? They barely knew the alphabet,
but they knew the names of formations and plays? I guess I know
what Rick’s priorities are with his sons.
“Okay, boys. That’s enough questions.
Can you introduce yourselves to Ford?” I asked, trying to impart
some manners. They just looked at me like I was speaking another
language. “Tell him what your names are,” I clarified.
“Braden!”
“Brandon!”
“Bryden!”
Ford glanced at me with a raised
eyebrow. I shrugged. “Yeah, I know. My mom needs help in the baby
naming department. You do remember my name is Poppy, right? Not
short for anything, just Poppy. Like the flower.”
He laughed and studied my brothers,
who were wearing different colored versions of the same shirt. He
rubbed his chin like he was deep in thought. “I think I’ll call you
red, green and blue,” he declared. The boys seemed delighted by
that idea for some reason that only makes sense in a four year
old’s mind.
Once they were done shoveling the
pizza in, there were a few pieces left for Ford and me. Rick had
left the TV on to the football game in the family room, and the
boys pulled on Ford’s arm until he followed them.
“Come on! Let’s watch football,” they
cried.
I caught up with them and grabbed for
Ford’s other arm but caught his hand instead. “Are you okay with
watching the game? Your mom mentioned that you don’t watch football
anymore.”
He glanced down at our joined hands
and nodded. “I’ll be fine. You should start on your homework while
I have them occupied in here.”
I released my hold on his hand,
because it was just kind of awkward to be holding hands for no
reason. “Um…okay. I’ll just be in the dining room. Yell if you need
help.”
“I was a four year old boy once, you
know,” he replied.
I had to smile as I remembered the
photos Maggie had shown me of Ford as a little boy. “I know. Your
mom showed me the pictures.”
From the dining room table where I had
set up my laptop and spread out my notes, I could hear my brothers
asking Ford a million questions. He answered them all, even the
ridiculous ones. He was patient and kept their interest better than
if the sky had opened up and rained matchbox cars. Next time I had
to babysit I was definitely bringing him along.
The game ended shortly after 8:00 and
I switched off the TV and declared it bedtime. The boys insisted on
Ford coming upstairs to see their room, which turned into showing
him their pajamas and talking him into reading them a story. I just
had to supervise, which officially made this the best babysitting
experience ever. When they were finally tucked in and we were sure
they weren’t coming out for one more drink of water, we went back
downstairs. With Ford entertaining them all evening, I had made
great progress on my homework. So, I packed up my books and laptop.
Maybe we could find a movie to watch for the next couple of hours
until my mom and Rick came home.
Ford was on the couch with his shoes
off and his
you.”
Half an hour later we arrived at my
mom’s house, pizza in hand. My brothers immediately started
devouring it as soon as I set it on the table. I introduced Ford to
my mom and Rick and dropped my bag off in the living room. When I
came back to the dining room, Rick was talking to Ford about what a
tragedy it was that he was injured right before being drafted. Ford
looked more uncomfortable than I had ever seen him, and he looked
to me with pleading in his eyes.
Before I could intervene, one of my
brothers piped up, “You play football? That’s cool! We can watch
the game together.” The other two cheered for that suggestion
around mouthfuls of pizza.
“That’ll be fun,” my mom said as she
quickly kissed each little boy and dragged Rick out the door. “Call
me only if it’s an emergency. We’ll be back by 11:00.”
I gave a half-hearted wave and focused
my attention on my brothers, who were peppering Ford with all kinds
of football questions. Seriously? They barely knew the alphabet,
but they knew the names of formations and plays? I guess I know
what Rick’s priorities are with his sons.
“Okay, boys. That’s enough questions.
Can you introduce yourselves to Ford?” I asked, trying to impart
some manners. They just looked at me like I was speaking another
language. “Tell him what your names are,” I clarified.
“Braden!”
“Brandon!”
“Bryden!”
Ford glanced at me with a raised
eyebrow. I shrugged. “Yeah, I know. My mom needs help in the baby
naming department. You do remember my name is Poppy, right? Not
short for anything, just Poppy. Like the flower.”
He laughed and studied my brothers,
who were wearing different colored versions of the same shirt. He
rubbed his chin like he was deep in thought. “I think I’ll call you
red, green and blue,” he declared. The boys seemed delighted by
that idea for some reason that only makes sense in a four year
old’s mind.
Once they were done shoveling the
pizza in, there were a few pieces left for Ford and me. Rick had
left the TV on to the football game in the family room, and the
boys pulled on Ford’s arm until he followed them.
“Come on! Let’s watch football,” they
cried.
I caught up with them and grabbed for
Ford’s other arm but caught his hand instead. “Are you okay with
watching the game? Your mom mentioned that you don’t watch football
anymore.”
He glanced down at our joined hands
and nodded. “I’ll be fine. You should start on your homework while
I have them occupied in here.”
I released my hold on his hand,
because it was just kind of awkward to be holding hands for no
reason. “Um…okay. I’ll just be in the dining room. Yell if you need
help.”
“I was a four year old boy once, you
know,” he replied.
I had to smile as I remembered the
photos Maggie had shown me of Ford as a little boy. “I know. Your
mom showed me the pictures.”
From the dining room table where I had
set up my laptop and spread out my notes, I could hear my brothers
asking Ford a million questions. He answered them all, even the
ridiculous ones. He was patient and kept their interest better than
if the sky had opened up and rained matchbox cars. Next time I had
to babysit I was definitely bringing him along.
The game ended shortly after 8:00 and
I switched off the TV and declared it bedtime. The boys insisted on
Ford coming upstairs to see their room, which turned into showing
him their pajamas and talking him into reading them a story. I just
had to supervise, which officially made this the best babysitting
experience ever. When they were finally tucked in and we were sure
they weren’t coming out for one more drink of water, we went back
downstairs. With Ford entertaining them all evening, I had made
great progress on my homework. So, I packed up my books and laptop.
Maybe we could find a movie to watch for the next couple of hours
until my mom and Rick came home.
Ford was on the couch with his shoes
off and his
Similar Books
