Chapter 42
Elle
Idon’t know who has yelled more at the TV tonight, me or Dad. The Chimeras are playing dirty. Archer has been sacked twice, and I nearly jumped out of my seat the second time, terrified when it took him longer than usual to get back up.
By some miracle, the Wolves are still leading.
The smell of Thanksgiving dinner drifts through the house, mingling with the faint scent of Mom’s pumpkin candle on the counter. Plates are half-full, Easton’s cranberry sauce forgotten on the table, because right now, all anyone can do is watch the Wolves and by default, Archer.
Dad’s leaning forward in his chair, fists clenched, yelling at the TV like he can block Archer from here. Easton is muttering the downfall of the Chimeras while pacing, never one to sit still. Erica’s phone sits abandoned, her eyes glued to the tv.
The Wolves have the ball with two minutes left, in the Chimeras home turf, stadium packed, filled with fans decked out in green and silver.
Archer’s breathing is heavy on the screen, helmet scuffed, grass stains streaked on his jersey.
The camera is zoomed in on him, he’s mouthing plays, but the audio is drowned out by the sound of the crowd.
My stomach twists as he drops back, the defensive line surging forward.
Archer scans the field; his eyes find Ty breaking free.
He throws; Tyson snatches it, spins past a defender, and takes it twenty-two yards downfield.
I leap from the couch, spilling some cider, and scream.
Dad grabs my arm, laughing, Easton whoops while Mom claps from across the room. Even Erica is impressed.
The Wolves are inside the 20-yard line. Archer huddles, calling a play, reading the defense. I watch as Archer drops back. Looks left, looks right. Throws to Cal Monroe, a late season trade, in the corner of the end zone. Touchdown Wolves!
Dad jumps up with me, the two of us cheering, Mom laughs in glee. Archer jogs off the field as Daniel Boggs takes the kick for the extra point.
That’s it, that’s game. Wolves win!
We’re digging into pie when my phone rings. Archer’s handsome face flashes on the screen. I quickly grab my phone and scurry to the other room. My beloved baby sister makes kissy noises after me.
“Hey,” his voice rumbles through the speaker, warm and rough from exhaustion.
“Hey!” I say, “You won! And you didn’t get carted off the field!”
Archer’s chuckle vibrates through the phone, low and tired. “Yeah...”
“You sound tired.” I sit by my reading window from my childhood. I bring my knees to my chest and rest my phone on my shoulder.
“I am,” he admits, voice quiet for a second. “But talking to you makes everything better. Makes me forget how many times I got slammed today.”
“How are you feeling?
“Sore.”
We linger on the line, talking about the game, the hits, the plays, and the inspirational speech coach gave that Archer swears should be nominated for an Oscar.
Finally, he sighs softly but content. “Alright… go enjoy the rest of your pie, tell everyone I say hi, and that I wish I was there, and to save me some of your mom’s cinnamon rolls!” He chuckles. “I need to call my parents and wish them a Happy Turkey Day.”
“Alight, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I love you, Arch.”
“I love you too, Ellie.”
We hang up and I go back to the pie that’s been calling my name all evening.
After everyone finishes, I’m helping mom clean up. “Tell me about Vi’s wedding. I ran into her mom the other day at the coffee shop. She made sure to mention how she’s so thankful that you two ended up in the same city in the end.”
I look at her curiously, she must be getting the wedding bug again, she had a huge hand in both Stella and Easton’s weddings, so she must be itching to plan one again. Sorry Mom, no wedding bells in the future for me any time soon. I doubt Archer is ready after just ending an engagement.
“Tell me about your dress, I want her dress to be a surprise you know, but tell me about the bridal party, what are you all wearing?” My eyes slide to Vi and Phoenix’s save the date on Mom’s fridge.
“It’s a spring wedding as you know, her colors are pastels, but like more muted pastels does that make sense?
Iris is the matron of honor, so her dress is completely different from the rest of ours.
She’s in a floral dress, Vi has the rest of us in various pastels, you wouldn’t think that it works, but she’s the artist and has a vision and it looks amazing.
She has this like vision board where she put all of us together with the photos we sent of her in our dresses and she put them all together, and yeah, her vision was flawless. It looks so good.”
“What color are you in?”
“It’s a very pale pink, Vi says it’s delicate.” I giggle. “Like anyone has ever used the word delicate to describe me.”
My mom laughs along with me. Us Taylors are a loud bunch and very rarely has anyone used the word delicate in association with us.
“What about the bachelorette? What’s the plan for that?”
“Nashville, she wants to see sexy cowboys take their clothes off for us.”
My mom lets out the most unladylike snort cackle combination. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” She laughs. “She’s always been into cowboys, always surprised me she ended up with a guy like Phoenix, but he makes her happy so that’s all that matters.”
I fill my mom in everything wedding related until all the dishes are cleaned and her kitchen is once again spotless.