Then Kaylee looked up at the bleachers.
She waved at Mason and me and her grandpa to come down.
Mr. Halvorson leaned into the microphone.
“Come on, Jodi. Bring ’em down here.”
And everybody laughed.
So we went down. Dad, Mason, and me.
Dad took those stairs a second time without one word of complaint.
That picture, the five of us at center court under the maroon and gold streamers, is the one on our refrigerator now.
Mason’s holding his pumpkin volleyball poster upside down in it.
Nobody noticed until we got it printed.
We left it.
We didn’t talk about it in the truck on the way home.
Mason fell asleep against the window before we even got to the edge of town. Kaylee rode with her friends to the team’s pizza party at Casey’s.
Travis drove with both hands on the wheel. The rose lay on the dashboard, rolling a little on the curves.
