Chapter 23: Penalties

Gordon was the first to leave.

He did it with great dignity, which made it worse.

He set the two champagne bottles on the hall table, picked up his white box of pastries, and told the room he'd be waiting in the car.

"Renee," he said. "When you've finished here."

My mother didn't look up.

"I'll walk him out," said the loud father, and took Gordon by the elbow, and two other fathers fell in behind them like a very polite escort.

The screen door banged.

Out in the drive, I heard a car start, idle for a long minute, and then drive away with only one person in it.

My shoulders finally came down.

Nobody mentioned it.

The match came back on, because somebody in the kitchen had the sense to turn up the volume.

"Second half's starting," said my uncle gruffly.

He was looking at the screen, and not at me.

"Sit down, sit down, you're missing the kickoff."

It was a ragged half.

The whole room was watching the game and half watching us.

The score stayed tied at one goal each.

Both teams were too tired to do anything about it.

Extra time came and went.

Then penalties.

I was standing behind Devin's armchair with my hands on its back, and every time a kick went in or off the post, I felt him flinch.

He had stopped pretending to be calm around the third kick.

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