Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

Sydney watched me from where she stood at my side, and when I met her gaze, she smiled knowingly.

It turned out, our scarred hearts beat in the same rhythm. And without a word being exchanged, we both sighed — because we knew that now, they’d never have to beat alone.

In the confetti rain, and in front of everyone I loved, I kissed her again.

And we walked into our new life, hand in hand, heart in heart, soul in soul.

Together.Jordan - Three Years Later“In your dreams, sucker!” Paige yelled, juking my little brother before sprinting toward the opposite side of Mom’s backyard. She paused when she was a few feet from the line we’d drawn in the grass to indicate the touchdown zone, and then she turned, walking backward in a kind of moonwalk dance with her tongue stuck out.

Mikey was in her dust, hands on his knees, panting.

I laughed, calling out from where I had just thrown her the ball. “Atta girl!”

“She’s a freak of nature,” Mikey panted.

“I told you she was the best one on her team.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me she played like an NFL player instead of a twelve-year-old.”

“Shouldn’t sleep on me just because I’m a girl, Mikey,” Paige said, patting him on the back as she jogged back over to me. “Need me to get you some water?”

He side-eyed her while I held back another laugh.

“You still getting your butt whooped over here, little brother?” Logan asked, balancing a smiling Tamara on his shoulders. His daughter, named after one of Mallory’s favorite painters — Tamara De Lempicka — had giant green eyes and white-blonde hair, tied into a tiny ponytail on top of her head that looked more like one single feather than a gathering of hair. She was giggling as he bounced her — a deep belly laugh that made me smile, too.

“Sure is,” Paige answered for Mikey, high fiving me as she passed. “Pouting about it, too.”

Mikey laughed, finally standing straight and hanging his hands on his hips as he caught his breath. “I would argue with her, but she ain’t wrong.”

“Guess you should stick to playing guitar and leave the football to Paige, huh?” Logan teased.

Mikey flipped him off, but smiled as he passed, anyway, taking our niece from Logan’s shoulders and putting her on his own before he outstretched her arms like an airplane and took off running across the yard to where Mom had set up multiple folding tables for dinner.

It was Thanksgiving Day, and we were all together for the first time in months. It seemed to be harder to get us all in the same place now that life was running full speed, so when we did get the chance, we made the most of it.

Paige paused long enough to stretch out her quads and hamstrings before jogging back across the yard, and she threw me the ball, a perfect spiral. We fell into an easy rhythm of catch, but I knew she could tell even from the distance that I was nervous.

“Mikey looks good,” I said to Logan to distract my thoughts.

He nodded. “He does. I think he and Kylie have really found their groove in New York City.”

“Especially now that he’s in that band,” I said. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to go without music for very long.”

“Well, as he so grossly reminds us, Kylie brought back the music in his life.”

“Such a sap.”

“I know, right?” Logan shook his head. “And he’s the only one. The rest of us aren’t hopeless romantics at all.”

“No way,” I agreed. “I don’t know if we even have feelings.”

We shared a grin, and Logan clapped me on the back before I heaved the ball back to Paige. “She really is good,” he mused. “How’s she doing on the team?”

“She’s easily the best at any position she plays,” I answered. “But, just like we imagined, she’s met some opposition along the way.”

“Coach?”

“A little,” I said. “But mostly the other players. They don’t like being outperformed by a girl, and sometimes they’re rougher with her than they need to be. But, she’s tough,” I said with pride, like she was my own daughter. In many ways, it felt like she was. “And when she’s out there practicing twice as long and working twice as hard as them, I don’t think it leaves them with much room to talk shit.”

“I wonder what will happen when she gets to high school.”

“Oh, God,” Sydney said, joining us with two bottles of water in her hands. She tossed me one before calling for her daughter to come get the other, then she turned back to Logan. “Please, don’t even get my anxiety spiral going on that front. She’s twelve. I still have two years of pre-teen bliss before she’ll be too cool for me.”

“I’m already too cool for you, Mom,” Paige teased, but kissed her mother’s cheek anyway before taking the water from her hands. “Besides, at least when I’m in high school, you and Jordan can watch over me.”