Izzy shook her head. “We just play the two halves. When it’s over, it’s over.”
“Huh.” Despite what I’d told Kyle at the stadium, I wasn’t much of a soccer mom. Daniel loved watching Sophia’s games, and I always had a lot of work on the weekends, so I was happy to delegate. “That can’t be very satisfying.”
“It’s fine,” Sophia said with a shrug. “Nobody loses.”
It was the usual scenario in the kitchen, Margaret bustling around while Daniel relaxed at the counter, sipping wine, bobbing his head to Salsa music on the Sonos. He’d spent a year in Nicaragua in the eighties and did his best to keep in touch with Latino culture.
“Look who’s here,” he said. “And she even baked a cake.”
I lifted the cover of the cake dish to display my handiwork. I’d added my own little flourish—six tiny carrots made of orange and green frosting, spaced evenly around the perimeter.
“Mom, wow.” Sophia stroked my arm. “I love it.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”
“It’s adorable,” Margaret added, lifting the hem of her apron to dab at some perspiration on her brow. “You really went the extra mile.”
The girls excused themselves, disappearing into Sophia’s room to watch videos and giggle together until dinner was served. They’d been best friends since preschool, and as far as I could tell, had never had an argument. All they ever did was agree, breathlessly, and with great enthusiasm. I was a little jealous; I’d never had a friend like that.
Daniel handed me a glass of wine. He was sixty-four, and quite a bit heavier than when we’d first met, but he still had that beautiful silver hair.
“Eleven years old,” he said. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t seem possible.”
Margaret smiled. “Such a sweet age.”
I sipped my wine and glanced around the cozy kitchen, trying to wrap my mind around the passage of time. Eleven years with Sophia. Ten without my mother. So many birthdays and holidays and special occasions right here with Daniel and Margaret. Somehow they’d become my substitute family, the people I could count on in a pinch.
“So, Tracy,” Margaret asked. “Have you decided about Thanksgiving?”
Her voice was casual, but she was watching me closely. She was a big Dr. Kinder fan, like all the other women I knew. She’d met him once and told me he was “quite a catch.” She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to join him for Turkey Day. Or marry him, for that matter.
“Well,” I said. “I’d love to come here again, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” she assured me. “You’re always welcome. That goes without saying.”
“I can bake some pies. Maybe apple and pecan? Nobody ate the pumpkin last time.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said. “We all love your pies.”
“Everything okay with you and the good doctor?” Daniel asked.
“Not really,” I said. “I think we’ve reached the end of our road.”
It was a relief to say it out loud, to make it official.
“Oh, Tracy.” Margaret sounded heartbroken, as if someone had died. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I told her. “It’s better for both of us.”
- 10 -
To Whom It May Concern:
My son James graduated from Green Meadow High School in 1969. He was a sweet boy with a sunny personality. He wasn’t the best at schoolwork or sports, but he had a lot of good friends and loved to make people laugh. He always appreciated the food I cooked for him, especially my mashed potatoes and gravy. He could never get enough of that.
In 1970 my son James was drafted into the Army. He didn’t want to go, but his father believed it was his duty and I agreed. That was how we were raised. James was obedient to our wishes and went to Vietnam to fight for his country. He died in November of 1971 and was buried with full military honors. I miss him terribly and grieve for all the life he did not get a chance to live.
These days very few people remember my son James, who died to keep us free, and that seems wrong to me. You should put him in your Hall of Fame so more people can learn about his sacrifice. That would give me great comfort in the final years of my life.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Marlene Haggerty （nee DeMarco）
ps—People knew him as Jimmy
* * *
Dear GMHS Hall of Fame Selection Committee:
Surely very few graduates of Green Meadow High School are more successful and distinguished than Matthew J. Keezer （GMHS class of 1973）， President and CEO of the Keezer Auto Group, which has grown to encompass eight dealerships in two states. As Mr. Keezer likes to say, “We’re not a group, we’re an empire!”
Mr. Keezer isn’t just an extraordinary business leader; he’s also been a generous and tireless supporter of numerous local and national charities, along with his beautiful and talented wife, Jessica D’Alito Keezer （GMHS class of 1992）。 Mr. Keezer’s motto has always been “Community First!”
Mr. Keezer has stated publicly many times that the foundation of his enormous success in life was built during his four years at GMHS: “High school was where I learned that with hard work and a positive attitude, truly anything is possible. I’m so grateful to my teachers and my fellow students for inspiring me to reach for the stars.” It seems only fitting that GMHS would recognize Mr. Keezer’s myriad achievements and contributions by welcoming him into your Hall of Fame. He certainly deserves the honor!
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Desiree Forest
Director of Communications
Keezer Auto Group
PS—Biographical “sizzle reel” attached. Let me know if you need anything else!
* * *
Yo Mr. Weede!
I’m not sure if you remember me. Greg Filipek? Class of 2004? You suspended me once for making fart noises during a DARE assembly? Does that ring a bell? Three days seemed a little harsh at the time, but you were right. I should have listened to the DARE people. It would have saved me years of trouble.
So here’s the thing. I heard about your Hall of Fame and I’d like to nominate myself. Can I do that? If not, I can probably find someone else to do it for me. Maybe my old buddy Mark Gaspar? He works for UPS now, in case you were wondering.
I know you’re probably like there is no effing way that Greg Filipek belongs in anything except the D-bag Hall of Fame and I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that, but only because you have no idea of the amazing feat I accomplished on February 8, 2006 when I was a student at the University of Scranton. （Full disclosure: I did not graduate from the University of Scranton, due to laziness and substance abuse issues that I’m currently dealing with. Also I cheated a lot in high school which as you once said was only cheating myself. True dat.）
Okay, back to the story. On February 8, 2006 I went to a sandwich shop known as Big Sal’s and took the Big Sal’s Challenge. The Big Sal’s Challenge is a gigantic submarine sandwich that’s as long as your arm and fatter too. I’m not lying it’s HUGE. The rules of the Challenge are if you eat it by yourself in a half hour or less it’s free. At the time I’m referring to only seven people had ever won the Big Sal’s Challenge. Their pictures are up on the wall at Big Sal’s.