The Great Christmas Bowl Read Online Free PDF

and touched Bud’s shoulder right before Mike climbed into the chopper and loaded him in.
    I figured she’d have to stay behind, as most people with critical patients do. So when Mike emerged and helped her inside behind her husband, warmth flooded through me. As EMS director, Mike had probably twisted a few arms to get Marge on that flight.
    They closed the chopper doors, and Mike and his staff stepped away from the pad as the air ambulance lifted into the night sky.
    I hadn’t noticed, but the crowd of boys had moved in to flank me and now watched as their team mascot disappeared.
    â€œWhat did Dad say?” Kevin asked me in a low voice. He’d cut his hair shortly after the season started, and it had just grown long enough for it to be messy after a shower.
    â€œHe suffered a major heart attack.”
    I heard noises of dismay behind me.
    â€œWill Bud be back for next week’s game?”
    I wasn’t sure which heartless teen imbecile had asked that question, but being the only mother in sight, I turned and gave them all a look worthy of such a selfish remark. They cringed.
    â€œWe’re just worried, Mom. Bud is our good luck charm. If we can’t fin him on the way out to the field . . .”
    Fin him? Then I remembered the hand-to-fin high fives the players always shared with Bud on their way out to the field and the worry in Kevin’s blue eyes clicked into place.
    â€œWe need another mascot.”
    The words were spoken beside me, but they reverberated in Kevin’s expression of gloom.
    It took me five full seconds to make the connection between Kevin’s previous furtive glances, the words of his teammate, and the dire straits of the Big Lake Trouts.
    â€œNo,” I said, without clarification.
    â€œMom, please—”
    I couldn’t believe it. “Kevin, no. I’ve spent this entire season packing your lunches, driving to your games, supplying your team with cookies. . . . I’m 100 percent behind you.”
    â€œThen—”
    I held up my hand. “But I draw the line at posing as a fish. It’s just a guy in a costume, Kevin. You can do this without a mascot. It’ll all work out.” I looked around the group, groping for reinforcements. The team stared back at me as if I’d just told them they had to return a lost puppy to the shelter.
    â€œNo,” I repeated. I took Kevin’s hand. I saw him blush and knew he was debating pulling it away to save face or letting me have my mom moment, in hopes of enticing me to cave. “Bud’s not your good luck charm, because you don’t need one. You’re perfectly capable of going to state without slapping his fin.”
    The silence following my words, the deep sighs, and the way Kevin ducked his head told me that they didn’t believe that for a millisecond.
    â€œPlease, Mom?”
    The kid had reduced himself to begging. Right there in front of his friends. And then he put it in overdrive as he pitched his voice low and found my soft spots. “You always say it’ll work out, but how do you know? Maybe it’s not going to work out at all.”
    I did say that all the time, but I also meant it. Still, the pleading in his eyes gave me pause.
    I saw him suddenly, standing in the play yard, hands outstretched, calling for me. “Mommy, I need you!”
    I could feel my resolve give, just a smidge. What could it hurt? It was just a costume—ugly, yes, but something I could sort of hide inside, right?
    For one game, maybe I could be a fish.
    Then I remembered the googly eyes, the tail. The cowbell and pom-poms. Oh, please. I’d rather be the church’s hospitality chairperson than humiliate myself in front of the town. I could too easily imagine how the costume would hug my already-ample curves. It would be akin to running naked down Main Street screaming at the top of my lungs, at the height of the holiday season, no