The Farewell Season

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Authors: Ann Herrick
almost felt as if the bricks yielded to my pushing.
    After the brick-wall session, it was more running; backward, sideways, quick starts and stops, fast turns, sprints. The entire defensive squad went through the whole routine, regardless of positions.
    "Remember," Coach Horton declared, "we are a team. Teams win games. If one player does less than his best, it diminishes the efforts of the rest of the team."
    "What happens," I said in a whispering huff to Rolf, "when an individual collapses from exhaustion?"
    "So, Mr. Nielsen has enough energy to talk." Coach Horton's mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. "Since you're so energetic, you can run up and down the grandstand steps before joining the rest of the team in some drills."
    Though I was ready to drop, I was determined to show Horton he couldn't wear me down. Besides, Glynnie would see me, and it would look good in her article if she mentioned me zipping up the stairs.
    There was one small problem as I chugged up the grandstand. No Glynnie. I had just assumed she was up there somewhere. Last night she'd said she'd see me tomorrow, meaning, of course, today. Maybe she meant after morning practice, when we could talk. Thinking about it, I almost ran into the wall at the top of the stairs. I jogged in place for a few steps, then ran down and joined the guys for drills.
    After practice, dripping with sweat, but proud because I thought I put out a good effort, I kind of glanced around as I headed for the locker room. Still no Glynnie. Maybe she'd be waiting for me after I showered.
    But even when the freshly showered, combed and dressed me emerged from the locker room, Glynnie was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe she meant after lunch. Or maybe she didn't mean it when she'd said she'd see me today.
    I felt someone touch my sleeve.
    I turned around and saw Hedy Theodore staring up at me, a look of hope in her gorgeous dark eyes, a faint look of confusion on her beautiful face. She never understood why I broke up with her. It was only three weeks after Dad died. I'd given her that lame excuse. "We ought to see other people."
    Unlike so many other girls I'd dated, Hedy didn't get pissed at my weak excuse. Never told me what a jerk I was. Never went out and attached herself to some other guy to show me she didn't care. No, Hedy just hung around on the edge of my life, looking wistful and confused. Maybe it was because she was younger.
    I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I just wanted her to move out of my life and get on with hers. I did not like feeling guilty. I'd rather be angry.
    "I'll get the truck," Rolf ran by faster than a disloyal fan fleeing the stadium after a loss, leaving me standing next to Hedy.
    "H-how are you?" Hedy asked.
    "Very busy and extremely tired." I turned on my heels and caught up with Rolf. I figured Hedy would not run after me. I was right.
    "That was fast," Rolf said, more a question than a statement.
    "We had nothing to say."
    "Oh." Rolf knew when not to pry.
     
    ***
     
    At lunch, Mom had a few quick bites, and then hurried back to the antique shop. Business was really picking up with people in town early for the Scandinavian Fair. Kirstin escaped with Rolf to pick out some fall bulbs.
    I was stuck helping out in the shop. Mom insisted. She said she didn't want to be in there alone, because it was sure to be really busy.
    Glynnie hadn't shown up or called. Maybe she'd thought I'd stop by her house. Or maybe she stopped at our house and didn't find anyone home. Dammit, she'd be smart enough to look for me in the store. Why sweat it?
    Soon enough, I was too busy to worry any more about Glynnie and the interview. In addition to antiques, Mom had a small sideline of Scandinavian kitchen utensils. I had all I could handle explaining and selling the special cast-iron skillets with eight semi-spherical cavities used to cook aebleskivers , a ball-shaped Danish pancake-like pastry.
    "Don't expect the first batch to be perfect," I told one customer. "

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