I wait, but nothing.
“Mr. Anderson? It’s time for the coin toss.”
I turn to Hazel with a sigh. “I’ll be back in twenty. Keep an eye out for her and sit over in that section there. I saved us a row.”
“Sure thing.”
I head out onto the field to help keep the peace. The principal of Spring Hills and I agreed to come out together and do the coin toss to avoid the kids talking any kind of shit while standing there. While I may have grown up hating Spring Hills, bunch of assholes, Damon is a great guy, and we have no issues.
We get to the center and shake hands.
“Miles.”
“Damon, good to see you.”
He smiles. “You as well. I’ve given the best warnings I can.”
I chuckle. “Me too. Let’s hope this one goes better than last year.”
“Seriously.”
The referee nods to both of us, and Damon calls heads.
Dude, tails never fails is a saying for a reason.
It lands on tails, and I was told by the head coach that under no circumstances were we to defer.
I let the ref know of our choice, and Damon and I shake hands again. “Good luck.”
“You too, Miles.”
The teams all line up, and the national anthem is played. We continue to stand in the middle with the referees, again to show that we can be civilized, and then it’s time to kick off.
I check my phone to find still no response from Penelope and go up to my seats.
“Did you hear from her?” I ask.
“No, nothing,” Hazel says.
“I’m going to call,” I say, having this unsettled feeling in my stomach. I get around the side of the snack stand, where I can get a little privacy, but it just rings and goes to voicemail.
Maybe they’re napping or ... I don’t know.
Still, I can’t help but worry a little.
I send a text off to Doug.
Me: Hey, can you swing by Penelope’s house and just check and make sure she’s okay? I’m at the game and I can’t leave, but she’s not answering her phone.
Doug
We’re pulling in now, but I’ll drop Eloise and the kids off then go by if you want.
Thanks.
Doug
You’re so going to owe me.