“When you and Uncle Joel played together in high school, what was that like?” I’m feeling things out with this question, and I think my dad senses it. He shifts in his seat and wrings his hands around the steering wheel a few times while his eyes haze into the distance of the road ahead. I point to the intersection coming up to let my father know where to turn.
“It was good,” my dad says.
“Ha, that’s a non-answer.” I dip my chin and challenge him with a glare. He gives in to the heat of it and finally looks in my direction, rolling his neck and rubbing it with his palm.
“Yeah, it is. But mostly because that was so long ago. I mean, we had a good time, and our team went to state twice. We both got to college on the game, so that was pretty cool.”
“Was he better?” I challenge.
“Joel?” My dad’s head swivels in my direction and he blinks before gurgling out a laugh. “Uh, no. He was good, but I was—” My dad shrugs.
“Better,” I finish for him.
He smiles at me with tight lips and I point to the next turn ahead.
Deep down, I’ve always known this was the case. None of us ever talk about it, mostly because my dad is not the kind of guy who has to keep score against others. For him, the memories of playing with my uncle are more about living life and having an experience. The greatness of the two of them together is always played up more by my uncle. Nobody, though, ever compares the two. My grandmother, before she passed last year, always gave everyone equal everything. That spirit sorta bled out into the rest of the family, because nobody ever feels the need to compete with one another or brag.
Until Zack.
Moving to Indiana did something to my cousin and his dad. It’s as though this time we’ve been apart unleashed a kind of envy. If Hollis weren’t here, I sort of wonder if all of this rage would instead point toward me. My aunt steers clear of the topic, praising Zack for doing his best. Deep down, however, my uncle never quite got over no longer being my cousin’s number-one coach. He still wants to be the only voice he hears on the field. And if Zack isn’t playing because someone better steals his spot, what will Uncle Joel have to do with his spring afternoons?
We pull into the driveway and my aunt and uncle are waiting in the driveway.
“Mikey!” Hearing my uncle call my dad by the little kid version of his name always makes me laugh.
My dad gets out of my truck and moves toward my uncle, both of their arms out like wings. I wonder if one day Zack and I will be like this, or if I’ll resent him forever the way I do right now. I hate this feeling taking over my body, like tar seeping through my insides making it hard to breathe. Maybe Zack isn’t the one who changed. Maybe I have.
I’m caught up in the reunion in front of me and lost in my thoughts when they’re interrupted by the low idle of a car pulling into the space behind my truck. My immediate reaction when I see Zack and Hollis in the car together is to protect her, but after a blink I realize they are both smiling.
My face puzzles as Hollis gets out and Zack rushes from the driver’s side toward my father and uncle.
“I thought you were getting in extra work?” I’m still on guard, and my face must show it because Zack calls me out.
“We catch you in the middle of something? You look surprised.” he says.
“Yeah,” I huff out through a suspicious laugh.
“I could tell he changed his mind and was sticking around for me, so coming here was my suggestion,” Hollis answers.
I shift my focus to her, giving her my perplexed expression. She laughs silently and steps in close.
“I’m fine,” she reassures. “Just trying to build a bridge, maybe stop the fire before he starts it.”
Nodding slowly, I make room for her to stand next to me and be a part of the conversation unfolding in my driveway. Upon seeing her, my uncle’s eyes light up in a way that makes my skin crawl. I hope Hollis doesn’t notice.
“So, you’re the female phenom, huh?” Uncle Joel reaches out a hand as if he doesn’t already have a file on Hollis stashed somewhere, filled with nefarious plots to bump her out of his kid’s way.
“I’m trying out for the team, if that’s what you mean. Yeah.” She shrugs off his compliment with a polite laugh, and I realize she’s playing the game too; I’m proud of her for it.
“Oh, I hear you’re pretty much a sure bet,” my uncle says when their hands touch for the shake. He winks in that car salesman way of his.
I glance to my cousin to get his take, but his eyes are focused on the ground, his face void of giving anything away. He must know about Coach Gage retiring.
“Oh, this is my brother, by the way. Cannon’s dad, Mikey,” Uncle Joel continues, shaking my dad by the shoulder as he shows him off. My dad is only a year younger, but my uncle always gives the impression there’s more age and wisdom between them. He only quit calling him baby brother after an awkward family fight at Thanksgiving four years ago. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen my dad snap
