Twist of Fate (Taking Chances #2) - Tia Louise Page 0,80
lettering and metal accents. “I might keep it for myself.”
“Does it work?”
“Only one way to find out. Where can we find records anymore?”
I have an idea.
Twenty-Seven
Scout
“She’s really cute, Scout, but she can’t play with the boys.” My brother stands beside me on the sidelines with his arms crossed, and we watch as my three-year-old runs around the field, holding up her little hands and trying to catch their easy passes.
“That’s what they told the quarterback princess.”
“Are you talking about that old Helen Hunt movie with the girl who wanted to be a quarterback?”
“Feeling threatened?”
“I’m not saying it because she’s a girl. I’m saying it because she’s three. The ball’s too big for her.”
Bobby tosses an overhand pass to her, and it bounces off her face, knocking her on her little butt.
“Uh oh.”
She’s immediately surrounded by our team of seven- to ten-year-olds with Jesse right up front helping her stand. J.R. and I jog to where she’s holding her hand over her nose.
My stomach drops. If her nose is bleeding or worse, Daisy’s going to kill me. “Hey, princess, you okay?” I’m on my knees beside the two cousins.
“It hit my nose, Daddy.” She puts an arm around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder.
It only took a day for her to start calling me that, and damn, it twisted me around her little finger even tighter.
“Let’s take a look.” I give her a squeeze and she steps back, holding up her head.
“It’s not bleeding!” Jesse announces to the other boys, and Melody blinks several times, watching him. My nephew turns to her again. “Hey, you didn’t even cry! Noses hurt.”
She smiles blinking even faster, and my heart clenches. I can tell my princess is struggling with all her might not to cry, even more now.
“Noses hurt,” she repeats, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, let’s play over here while the boys do their drills. Okay?” She nods, and I pick her up, carrying her off the field.
The other boys clap like it was a real football injury, and my brother shakes his head.
I lift my chin at him. “She’s a pretty good cheerleader. Loud.”
“I want to play.” She looks over my shoulder at where they’re lining up in the classic T formation.
“You can play. You just need to grow a little more before you can get out there with the big boys.” I stand her on her feet, checking out her nose again.
A tiny red scuff is on the bridge, and I’ll have to hope Daisy doesn’t notice. Who am I kidding? She’s going to notice.
“Ready to go long?” She nods, and I hold the ball as she takes off running. “Look back.”
She looks over her shoulder, and I toss it to her easy. This time she doubles back quick and catches it.
“Looks like somebody might be her daddy’s girl.” I turn to see my grandmother walking up in the red joggers and white sweatshirt she wore to all our games.
“Showing your school spirit?” I step over and give her a hug.
“I always have. We’re on the second generation now.” She nods towards my daughter, who’s dancing her ballerina dance with her pink football over her head. “Bring her over here so I can get a look at this beauty.”
“Princess, bring me the ball.”
She does another twirl, kicking her leg behind her awkwardly before running to where I’m standing. My grandmother bends down to where Melody stands squinting at us.
“Hello, young lady, what’s your name?”
“I’m the quarterback princess Melody, and this is my brave knight Daddy.”
Gran nods sharply. “And I’m your great grandmother Alice.”
Melody’s eyes widen. “Great grandmother?”
“You can call me Gran or GA if you’re anything like your grumpy uncle.”
Melody’s little nose curls, and she looks at me. “Jesse’s dad is your uncle J.R.”
“Grumpy uncle! Grumpy uncle!” She hops around, and it reminds me of when she first learned my name.
I hip check my grandma. “He’s not going to like that.”
“Then he should smile more. He has everything in the world he could want, beautiful wife, beautiful son, beautiful baby girl…”
I glance over at my brother directing the boys on the field. “I think he practiced his game face too long.”
Melody rejoins us, pushing my leg. “Daddy, go far!”
I immediately take a few steps, and she tosses her teeny spiral, which I’ve gotten pretty good at scooping before it hits the ground. She jumps up and down cheering, and I run back to spin her around as I “pass” it to her.