The next day, I drove nine hours before stopping in Boulder, where Greg had just moved into his new apartment. We spent a couple of days exploring the area together. We hiked Gregory Canyon because I’d gotten a kick out of the name, and walked the trails around the Boulder Reservoir and Coot Lake, where local dogs swam. I told Greg he needed to get a dog now that he was out of school and had a real job, and he said he would.
I cried when we said good-bye, when Greg pulled me in for a hug and told me to be strong because I was the strongest woman he’d ever known. He said he’d check in on me and that he knew I’d be great. In two more weeks Brody would have been gone for a year, and though I’d be alone on the anniversary of his death, I’d be seeing Greg again soon. He and I agreed to meet for the Fourth of July if I had the day off. Then I climbed into my truck, and with the windows rolled down, I held out my arm and waved to him as I pulled away.
—
Joseph and I had carved out a nice life for ourselves. I smiled at the thought of that. Again he made a tackle. Again I cheered. I drank some of Ellen’s coffee. Brian, who worked at the post office, and was sitting behind us, offered me a shot from his flask. The sweet burn of Jack Daniel’s warmed my throat and chest. He asked me about the missing hunter. I filled him in on some of the details, most of which he had already heard. He shook his head. “I feel bad for the person who’s going to stumble on her in the spring,” Brian said. He took another drink from his flask and passed it back to me. Already I was thinking about Colm. I hoped he was getting some rest.
By halftime Rio Mesa and Hayden were tied 7–7. The band was lined up on the track, preparing for the halftime show. I wondered when the ceremony would begin, the one where the players would be announced and their parents would be asked to join them on the field. The ceremony where the boys presented their mothers with roses because that was how it was done. This would be my first time to be a part of it. The year before, Joseph had played junior varsity. I waited while the band marched out onto the field, and Ellen talked and poured more coffee, and Brian talked to the man beside him about the Broncos’ upcoming game against the Patriots, and students moved up and down the steps to my right.
“What about the ceremony?” I asked Ellen.
Ellen looked confused.
“The one where the parents go down to the field,” I said.
“The ceremony took place before the game. Right before you got here. I thought you knew.”
“I thought it was at halftime.”
Maybe the look on my face told her how miserable I felt. Maybe she saw the ache crawling up my throat, because she reached out her gloved hand and rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. Then Ellen turned to talk to someone behind us. I stared at the field, listened to the band play a bad version of Queen’s “We Are the Champions.”
A hand pressed against my back. Cheryl Manning, another mom, was kneeling behind me. “We made these for the mothers of all the players,” she said.
Cheryl handed me a button with Joseph’s picture. He was wearing his jersey and giving the victory sign. Strips of gold and black ribbon hung from behind the button.
“I thought the ceremony was at halftime,” I said again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Cheryl said. “Joseph’s playing great.”
And when no one was looking, I wiped my eyes. I continued to stare at the field. I waited for Joseph and the second half.
The rest of the game didn’t go as well. Hayden scored again in the third and made the extra point. By the fourth quarter Rio Mesa was at its third down on the twenty-yard line. The quarterback tried for a pass to receiver Tyler Cook. The pass was incomplete. Mesa went for the field goal and scored another three points.
The final score was 14–10, Hayden. The stands cleared. Ellen left, her plump legs moving in a hurry down the bleacher steps, her blanket under one arm, her thermos under another. “I’ve got to get home. Russell’s driving in from Paonia tonight. Tell Joseph he played a good game.”