Left Out (14 page)

“Guys, this is Landon.” Jonathan gave Landon a pat on the back. “I have no idea why he wanted to meet you, Eli, but I told him that if he asked for a picture with you, it would make your day.”

Eli held out a hand and Landon shook it. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Manning.”

“Hey, Landon.” Eli spoke quietly, but Landon understood. “You know who Michael Bamiro is, right?”

“Hi, Mr. Bamiro.” Landon shook the giant man's hand. “I play football too. I want to be a lineman like you and Mr. Wagner.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said. “He's on my nephew's team.”

“Very nice,” Bamiro said. “What high school you guys play for, Landon?”

Landon blinked and stuttered. “I, uh . . . we play for a seventh-grade youth team, sir.”

“Seventh?” Bamiro was surprised.

“Yes,” Landon said quickly. “I'm twelve.”

“You?” Bamiro laughed, flashing a set of bright white teeth. “I think you're bigger than I was at twelve. You hear that, Eli? Maybe you can last long enough for Landon here to block for you.”

Eli grinned and pointed at Bamiro and Jonathan Wagner. “With you two knuckleheads in front of me, I'll be lucky to make it through next season.”

The three players laughed at that together, and Landon blushed even harder when Brett stepped into their little circle. Landon had to wonder—as nice as Brett had been—if he wouldn't expose Landon for being more of a water boy than a lineman, but Brett only smiled and asked if he could get a picture with Eli too.

Rashad Jennings, the Giants' running back, suddenly appeared and threw his hands up in the air. “Manning, Bamiro, Wagner. Come on, guys. Let's get this lovefest over with. Eli won't be able to fit his head into that new Corvette he's driving.”

“Well, it's a convertible,” Eli said.

Rashad snapped his fingers. “Of course. Now we know why. You
already
can't fit your head in, so you gotta keep the top down.”

The players all laughed again, and so did Landon and Brett.

They got a bunch of pictures with the players individually and all as one big group.

“Okay,” Jonathan Wagner said. “We good? 'Cause if we are, I say let's eat. I promised my man some chili dogs.”

They all piled plates with food and sat down at one of the long tables on a brick terrace under some enormous shade trees. Landon's eyes were busy, darting back and forth, trying to follow the banter between the players, who seemed to genuinely enjoy each other's company despite the constant kidding.

With winks and slaps on the back, they made him feel part of it all.

Their plates were pretty much empty when Rashad Jennings pointed at the diving board and said, “I'm fixing to light that thing up now, boys.”

“Light it up?” Jonathan slapped Rashad on the back. “With a pencil dive or something?”

Everyone laughed.

Rashad kept his chin up. “How about a backflip?”

The players all hooted.

“Yeah!”

“Let's see that!”

Jonathan Wagner held up both his arms. “Who needs something fancy like that when you have the world champion cannonballer right here?”

Landon bit his lip to keep from laughing, and he couldn't help himself from shouting, “I bet I can beat you!”

“What?” Wagner tilted his head and knotted up his face. “Boy, you're gonna be big one day, but I hit that water like a twenty-ton
bomb.
”

Landon shrugged. “I think I can beat you.”

The players went wild, hooting and laughing, pointing at Wagner and saying Landon called him out.

Wagner stood up and pretended to be angry, throwing his napkin down on the table and pointing at Landon, but he was unable to keep from smiling. “It's on, my man. You and me. Cannonball championship of the
world
!”

Landon's spirit soared.

Landon changed in the same bathroom he'd tried hiding in. He looked at himself in the mirror, removed his ears, patted his belly, and grinned. He knew he could cannonball. He marched outside, and everyone was lined up around the pool. When they saw him, they cheered, waving their hands and grinning. He wished he could have heard it, but in a way, the silence helped him not to get nervous.

Jonathan Wagner stood on the end of the diving board, and it bowed beneath his tremendous weight. Landon gulped as the big man began bouncing up and down on the end of the board. After half a dozen jumps, he launched himself quite high, dipped, tucked, and plummeted into the water.

A geyser exploded. The column of water shot at a sideways angle, though, drenching a good dozen people, who scattered. Landon laughed at the sight of their happy screaming. When
the crowd recovered, everyone began to clap and chant. Landon read their lips.

“Lan-don, Lan-don, Lan-don.”

He was briefly reminded of wind sprints, but pushed that ugly thought from his mind and climbed up onto the board. The sandy surface scratched his feet. He strode out to the end, where he curled his toes over the lip and felt the flex of the board beneath him. He knew he couldn't get as high as Wagner and he knew he wasn't nearly as big, but technique was very important when cannonballing, and that he had.

With all eyes on him and the chant of his name on their lips, Landon got into a rhythm, up and down, flexing his legs, getting more height. When he was ready, he took one last jump for balance, launched himself, and tucked like a true human cannonball. When he hit the water, he fought to keep his form and felt the water explode beneath him. Then the suction drew his body into the void with tremendous force.

He let his momentum carry him down until his knees scraped the bottom of the pool, and there he floated, suspended in water and joy until his breath ran out and he sprang off the bottom, breaking the surface to a new round of silent cheers.

He knew by everyone's reaction that he'd won.

Even Jonathan Wagner slapped him on the back, giving him a big thumbs-up. Then Bamiro raised Landon's arm high in the air and said something while people cheered even more.

Landon and Brett swam the rest of the afternoon, and by the time they had to go, they were exhausted. Landon changed into dry clothes and put his ears back on, so he could hear when Jonathan Wagner stopped Brett as they were getting into the Suburban.

“Hey, Brett,” the Giants' right tackle said, “you got one heck of a friend. You'll have to bring him around again.”

Landon buckled his seat belt and closed his eyes, concentrating hard, because he was determined to remember the sound of those words for as long as he lived. When he opened his eyes, Jonathan Wagner was at the window and motioning for him to roll it down. Landon did and said, “Thanks for having me. It was a great time.”

“Hey, my man, you are more than welcome.” Jonathan reached through and shook his hand. “And thanks for bouncing
back on me after my off-sides penalty with the implants there. I appreciate you not holding a grudge. It sure wasn't a smart thing to say, that's all. And I just want you to know I'm sorry. Anyway, you'll be seeing me again real soon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, we got a bye week coming up, and my sister, Courtney, makes this meatloaf like our mom used to make that keeps me coming back.” Jonathan's face looked a bit sad for a second, but then it brightened. “I'll check you guys out at your practice. This is all
if
Coach McAdoo gives us some time off. He should, so . . .”

Jonathan held out a fist and Landon knew to give it a bump, even though his head was spinning.

“I'll get to see you and Brett in action.”

And suddenly, even after the magic of the day, Landon's nerves were on edge.

“I want to kiss Brett Bell.”

Landon's mouth sagged open. “What did you say?” He blinked, unsure of what he'd just seen and heard, because it sounded like his sister had just said she wanted to
kiss
Brett Bell. Landon and Genevieve were out in the yard in the dying light of the day with glass jars, catching fireflies. The damp grass tickled his bare feet. In the twilight beneath the trees he easily could have mistaken what she said.

Genevieve staved him off with a hand as she crouched and then pounced with her jar, scooping it into the grass and clapping the top on in one expert motion. She held the jar up and frowned, searching in the gloom. When the bug lit up, it burned so bright Landon could make out the smile on her face and read her lips clearly when she looked at him. “I said I want to kiss him.”

“That's gross.”

“Oh, Landon.” She rolled her eyes. “In a sister sort of way, or the way the French kiss when they meet.”

“A
French
kiss?” Landon scowled at her. “Geez, Genevieve. That's even more gross, sticking your tongue in someone's mouth. What's more disgusting than
that
?”

Genevieve sighed. “Please, Landon. Nothing gross. Nothing romantic. ‘Kiss' as in, he's the greatest kid in the world. That post with the split picture of you and Jonathan Wagner doing cannonballs? Michael Bamiro calling you the world champ? It's all over Instagram. That peeping thing is practically
gone
.”

Landon caught a glint of light in the corner of his eye, and he spun and flailed after it, missing the fly completely. He watched it blip as it floated up into the trees, and then he turned back to Genevieve. “What about Megan?”

Genevieve nodded. “She's fine, Landon. She felt bad for you with all this.”

“But she didn't come over.” Landon fit the top onto his empty jar, practicing his scoop, and then hustled across the lawn when he spotted a firefly winking from a blade of grass. He pounced and held the jar up for Genevieve to see the bug blinking away.

“I got it!”

Genevieve came over and patted his shoulder. “Nice work.”

Landon studied the insect as it crawled around on the inside of the jar with a wing askew and its bottom glowing, a miniature version of the sticks they carried with them on Halloween. He looked up when his sister tapped his arm.

“She's coming tomorrow to swim.”

Landon's face got hot. “Tell her I'll be locked in the closet of my room when you guys are changing. Um . . . what about Katy?”

Genevieve swatted the air. “Forget Katy. She's dead to me.”

“You shouldn't talk like that.”

“Trust me, Landon.” Even in the dim light Genevieve's eyes sparkled with anger. “What I'd like to do to her? Being dead
is
nice.”

“Dad always says, ‘Forgive and forget.'” Landon angled his head toward the house. In the light of the great room through the big window overlooking the backyard, they could see their father at his desk, working away.

“Forgiveness is for people who ask,” Genevieve said.

“It's easier to let things go.”

Genevieve shook her head violently. “You've got to fight sometimes, Landon. Fight people like Katy. Fight on the football field.”

“That again?” Landon turned away.

Genevieve caught him. “You said Jonathan Wagner's going to be at practice sometime soon. What are you gonna do? Offer him water?”

“Maybe I'm just happy being on the team. Ever think of that?”

“No, Landon. Not the way you love football. No way.”

Landon shook himself free from her. “We're catching fireflies, Genevieve. Let's just do that.”

He turned his back on her, searching the yard, until he sensed her movement. Genevieve went into high gear. She might have been doing a dance routine, darting here and there,
scooping, snatching, spinning, filling her jar. Landon watched her for a minute. Three, four, now five fireflies blinked inside their glass prison.

“Like it's so easy,” he said to himself.

The solitary lightning bug flashed in his jar, but not as brightly as before.

Landon unscrewed the lid and let it go.

Sunday morning, Landon's mother was back to herself.

Gone were the bags under her eyes and the weary frown. She stood straight and moved about the stove like she had springs in her joints.

Bacon snapped beneath her spatula, filling the kitchen with a delicious smell. She was chattering at Landon's father, who presided over the toaster, waiting and watching patiently, butter knife in hand. Landon didn't know what she was saying, but when she realized he was there, she turned with the spatula in hand and beamed at him. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Hi, Mom.” Landon sat down at the table at a place where someone had laid out placemats, plates, juice glasses, and silverware wrapped in checkered cloth napkins.

“Ready for a big day?” she asked.

Landon had had a big day yesterday, and this morning he'd
woken with excitement. His joy melted instantly, however, at the thought of Jonathan Wagner visiting practice only to see that his “man” was a powder puff. Landon's mind was stuck on that, and he wasn't thinking about today.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

“Well, school starts Tuesday and you and Genevieve both have games every weekend after this, so I thought we should do something special.”

His mom turned to quickly shuffle the bacon and then looked back at him. “New York City. We're taking in the city. Uptown. Downtown. Soho. The Statue of Liberty. Empire State Building. A carriage ride in Central Park, maybe the zoo. Dinner at the Jekyll and Hyde Club.”

“The
what?
” Landon unrolled the silverware and put the napkin in his lap.

“It's a haunted restaurant.” Landon's mom made a scary face and turned her free hand into a claw. “Ghouls and mummies and such waiting on tables. Talking gargoyles.”

Landon's father waved at him from the toaster. “Death by Chocolate. That's for dessert.”

Genevieve appeared. “What dessert?”

“We're going to New York City to see
everything
,” Landon said, teasing his mom.

“What?” Genevieve stared. “I've got Megan coming over to swim.”

“Genevieve,” their mom said, “it's Labor Day weekend. We're having a little family getaway, spending the night in New York. I've got us hotel rooms. There are fireworks on the Brooklyn Bridge after dinner.”

Genevieve threw her arms in the air. “You don't just announce a family getaway on the morning of the getaway, Mom.”

Their mom shrugged. “Well, I didn't know about it until now. I got up this morning at five and thought, yes, a family getaway to the greatest city in the world.”

“Mom, this is important.” Genevieve looked like she was begging.

“What's important?” their mom snorted. “Taking a swim?”

Genevieve gave Landon a knowing look. “Yes, Mom. It is.”

“Not on my watch, young lady. Family first.” Landon's mom pointed the spatula at his sister, and he saw that look on his mother's face, the one that said everyone better be careful. His father literally ducked down before buttering another slice of toast.

Landon's eyes went to his sister. He knew she could bite back, and he hoped she wouldn't now.

Genevieve's lips had a little wrestling match, good and bad fighting for control. Finally, she exhaled. “Fine.”

The tension melted away, and Landon took a breath.

“The last couple weeks have been hard for everyone.” Their mother's face softened. She turned and lifted the bacon out onto a bed of paper towels covering a platter. Beside the bacon rested another platter heaped with steaming scrambled eggs. She turned off the burner, slid a hand under each platter, and headed for the table. “This is a chance for us to reconnect as a total family.
And
do something fun. People come from all over the world to see the sights in New York City. We'd be fools not to take them in when they're right here under our noses.”

Landon's dad delivered his platter of toast, and everyone
joined Landon, sitting at the table. Landon piled eggs and bacon onto his plate, got a piece of toast to help shovel, and dug in. He couldn't help focusing on his food, until he realized his mom was talking to Genevieve about the trip and he thought he heard Megan's name.

“I think it would be fun,” his mom was saying.

Landon looked at Genevieve, who went for her phone on the table and began to text. “I'll ask her. I don't know if she can, but asking her makes canceling not so bad.”

“Ask who what?” Landon took a swig of orange juice from his glass.

“Megan.” Genevieve hit the Send button. “Mom said she can come with us.”

Landon choked on his juice.