Kelly Jamieson - Faceoff

When it was his turn, he couldn’t resist showing off a little, skiing on one slalom ski, back and forth across the wake of the boat, turning backwards, spinning. He grinned, enjoying the speed, the use of his muscles, the adrenaline rush of it.

Then Kyla rode with Emily on the big inner tube, Emily’s screams of excitement audible over the motor of the boat, Jessica watching anxiously, Scott laughing.

After an afternoon out on the lake, they all retreated to their cottages to shower and change and eat and then reconvened in the Heller dining room around a big oak table to play Trivial Pursuit.

Since there were so many of them, they formed teams of two, with one team of three, and Remi and Kyla ended up on a team. Jase folded his arms across his chest and regarded them glumly. “A teacher and a lawyer on the same team,” he said. “How is that fair? We don’t have a hope.”

Tag gave him an elbow in the ribs. “Give yourself a little credit. We’re not stupid.”

Tag watched Remi share a glance with Kyla, then look back at Jase. “No, you’re not,” Remi said and Tag had the feeling she’d told Jase that before. Jase had always had that idea ever since that witch of a middle school teacher had told him that. Yeah, he’d struggled in school with his ADHD, but it didn’t mean he was stupid.

The game began and soon turned into a cutthroat competition between Remi and Kyla and Jase and Tag.

“Science,” Tag said when Remi and Kyla’s piece landed on a green square. “What is the largest mammal that ever lived?”

Kyla grinned. “The blue whale.”

“Damn.”

Remi pumped a fist as she collected a little wedge and put it in their circle.

“Roll again.”

Kyla rolled the dice and moved.

“Entertainment.” Remi glanced at Kyla.

“What is Radar O’Reilly’s favorite drink?”

The two women stared at each other. “I have no idea,” Remi whispered.

The two older couples snorted, earning a look from Kyla. “You know, I suppose?” she said to her parents.

“Of course. Don’t you know who Radar O’Reilly is?”

“I know who he is,” Kyla said loftily. “I just don’t know what his favorite drink is.”

“Beer,” guessed Remi.

“Wrong!” Jace held up the card. “Grape Nehi.”

“Whatever that is,” Kyla muttered and everyone laughed.

“Sports!” Tag called triumphantly, landing on an orange square.

“How do you always land on sports?” Kyla complained. “Okay. Who played for the New York Rangers, the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Knicks in a single season?”

Tag stared at her, turned to look at Jase and got a blank look in return. “Rangers? Dodgers? Knicks? That’s impossible. There’s no one who’s played for all those teams.”

Kyla tapped her finger on her bottom lip in a very distracting way. Tag momentarily forgot all about sports.

“Give up?”

“Guess,” Jase said to him.

“I got nothing.”

Kyla grinned. “Gladys Gooding. The organist.”

Tag groaned and fell back in his chair. “Shit!”

Laughing silently, Kyla slipped the card back into the box. The game continued until Kyla and Remi got the question, “Who shot Lee Harvey Oswald?”

Remi smiled and looked at Kyla. “You know that?”

“Jack Ruby.”

“Yes!”

The two girls high-fived. “We win! This is fun!” Kyla said, wiggling in her chair. “Let’s play again.”

“We need to go put the kids to bed,” Jess said, standing with the baby. Scott immediately rose too. “Good night, everyone.”

“They get some alone time,” Jase said with a look at Remi. Her cheeks went pink.

“You’ve got your own bedroom, what are you complaining about?” Tag said. “Hey, that reminds me. Mom, do we still have that tent we used to put up in the backyard?”

“Yes. It’s in the shed. Why?”

“I was thinking I’d like to sleep out there. Matt snores and it’s bugging me.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yeah, you do.” Tag grinned. “I’ll find it later. Okay, one more game. We have to kick butt here.”

“I’m out,” Doug said. “You kids are too competitive for me.”

The two sets of parents picked up their drinks and moved to sit on the couches, leaving Jase and Tag, Kyla and Remi and Michael, Matt and Logan.

“Okay. What does the C stand for in the equation E=Mc squared?”

Kyla turned to Remi wide-eyed. “Jesus. No clue.”

“The speed of light,” Remi said.

“Oh for…yes that’s right.” Michael grumbled as he returned the card to the box and Tag caught the look of pride on Jase’s face. His chest warmed inside. Damn. Seeing his little brother so happy and in love almost made him…nah.

The guys got the next one right and the intensity rose with each question. Kyla was bouncing in her seat most distractingly again. “You love this, don’t you?” Tag said to her.

She tipped her head to one side. “Are you saying I’m competitive?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t deny it. And right backatcha, Mr. We-have-to-win-the-Stanley-Cup.”

“Sure, sure, rub it in. Jase came closest of any of us this year to winning the Cup.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jase said.

“Can you imagine?” Kyla said, rolling the dice. “If Jase had won the Stanley Cup and brought it home, along with the Jets coming back and Matt getting a first-round draft pick…oh my god, the city would be going crazy !”

“Yeah, it’s probably good you lost,” Tag told Jase helpfully.

“Thanks, man.” Jase lifted a hand with the middle finger raised, not high enough for his parents to see, but everyone at the table snickered.

Soon it was down to the last question for Tag and Jase to win. Matt read the question. “How many strokes make up a quadruple bogey on a par five golf hole?”

Tag closed his eyes, briefly, then said, “Nine.”

“I knew that!” Kyla cried. “Damn!”

“We each won one game,” Tag said.

“Let’s play again!” Kyla said. Everyone else groaned. She slouched back. “Okay. Fine. I need another glass of wine.”

When Kyla finally rolled out of bed at nearly noon the next morning, fire burned her inner thighs and her legs gave out and she fell back onto the bed. Oh my god. The skiing yesterday had damn near killed her. Oh man, she was so out of shape. How pathetic. She managed to get to her feet and hobble to the bathroom. Her arms and shoulders screamed with pain at every movement. Lifting her arms to brush her teeth and her hair caused more burning across her muscles and she grimaced at her reflection.

She found the cottage empty and quiet. She hadn’t even heard Emily get up. The guys had planned to go golfing at a nearby course first thing in the morning. The girls were probably outside or over at the Hellers’.

She found coffee still hot in the coffeemaker and painfully made herself a piece of toast and peanut butter. Jeez. She needed some ibuprofen or something. Thank god she’d turned down the golf invitation, though she’d been tempted to tag along with the guys like she always had. Today she was going to go down to the beach, on hands and knees if necessary, flop down on the sand and lie there for the rest of the day.

She changed into her pink bathing suit, the black one still damp from yesterday, scooped up a bottle of SPF 30, slid her digital reader into a Ziploc bag to protect it from sand and grabbed a towel and a beach blanket. With painful steps she made her way across the yard, through the poplar trees and shrubs, and onto the beach.

She spread the blanket and sat, her thigh muscles crying out as she lowered herself. She picked up the sunscreen. She wouldn’t be able to do her back. Oh well. She’d just tan her front first. So she slathered up her front with sun protection, lay down, closed her eyes and breathed in the warm air. Some distant laughter and splashing and the hum of a boat out on the lake reached her ears. The sun warmed her face and relaxing heat seeped through her body. She sighed. Why had she not wanted to come up here again? She loved living in the city, loved restaurants and movies and concerts and shopping, hated leaving all that…but it was so nice here.