Page 26 of Game Plan

“No. Did they? That’s pretty close to here.”

I scoop a forkful of coleslaw and bring it to my mouth. “We should go. They have Saturday morning class. I checked.”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah, we should.”

“If you need bent into a pretzel, I can help,” Branch says, looking at his wife like he wants to devour her.

Finn looks at me and smirks.

“What?” I ask quietly. “Are you ready to give in and give me the pretzel treatment?”

He fills his mouth with chicken and rice, making me laugh.

We eat our food, chatting back and forth about everything from yoga to football to taxes. The kitchen glows from the final rays of the evening sun, filling the room with a magic that I think we all feel. It’s moments like this that make me pause and say a prayer of thanks that these people are in my life.

I’m not sure what I would do without them … especially Finn. And I don’t love that.

I take a potato chip off his plate. “Do you report to training camp this coming week or the next one?”

“A week from Monday.” He blows on a small bite of mashed potatoes before feeding it to Sunny. “I have some media shit to take care of tomorrow, and a few meetings at the facility next week. Then, it’s on.”

“I keep feeling like I should be in prep mode,” Branch says, getting up from the table.

Layla frowns. “Are you regretting retirement?”

“Hell no. I’m sure I’ll miss it, but I won’t miss feeling like I’m dying from internal injuries most days of the week. And it’s pretty hard to feel like I’m missing out on anything when I’m curled up on the couch with you and our baby.”

I exchange a grin with Finn.

“How are you feeling about retirement, Finn?” Layla asks.

“Oh! Wait a second,” I say, laughing as a blob of potatoes dangles precariously off Sunny’s chin. I grab it with a napkin. “You’re a messy girl.”

She blows another raspberry. I don’t speak baby, but I wonder if that wasn’t “fuck off” in her language.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Finn says, handing me Sunny. Then he gets up and takes his plate to the kitchen. “I waffle back and forth about it. Like Branch said, it wouldn’t suck not to have your ass whipped every week. I’m starting to get too old for it. But I’m still really good. It’s hard to turn down that kind of money, especially because I won’t have a chance to make it for much longer.”

Especially when you offer to give it away to charities that don’t exist yet. The thought makes me smile.

“That’s a weird take for someone who apparently has enough money just to give it away,” I say, grinning at him.

He winks at me.

“What’s that mean?” Branch asks, picking up the present I brought. “Hey, is this gift for me?”

“Yeah. It’s from me,” I say.

He carries it to the island and opens it.

“Poppy just means that she had an idea for a charity, and I offered to help her get it started,” Finn says, opening the fridge. “But, in Poppy fashion, she took it as a personal affront to her independence, so that didn’t go far.”

I roll my eyes. “He also had an attorney call me to help get it set up.” I take the bottle of water that Finn hands me as he walks by. “Because he seems to take a personal affront to me not wanting his money.”

Branch’s eyes light up when he opens the box and spots the elegant glass bottle filled with amber-colored liquor.

“Nice,” he says, holding it up proudly. “Thanks, Pop.”

“That was two hundred bucks. If you mix Coke with it, I’m taking it back.”