Page 61 of Playing to Win
Chapter 19
“Kyle, baby! Wake up!” Kyle groggily pulled his head off his pillow, looking around his darkened bedroom for the source of the voice. He rolled over on his king sized bed…and came face to face with his mother.
“Jeez, Mom! You almost gave me a friggin’ heart attack! Why couldn’t you have called me like a normal person? I thought you and the rest of the K-clan weren’t coming until this afternoon. They’re not making the announcement until tonight and the presentation of the trophy, if I win it, isn’t until tomorrow.”
“What do you mean, if? Honey, you’re a shoo-in.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?”
“Because you’re simply the best.”
“Says my mother, who knows nothing about sports,” Kyle said, holding back a yawn. After the game last night, Kyle had brought Curly back to his place. They had hung out, watching Netflix until around three in the morning. Her favorite show, Once Upon a Time, was in its new season, and she was determined to watch every episode in a week. They also discussed ideas for her senior project. It was her plan to interview him after he won the MVP award. She had said the exact words to him his mother had just uttered…he was a shoo-in.
Kyle couldn’t wait for his family to meet Curly. He just knew they were going to love her as much as he did. “So, you never answered my question. Where’s the rest of the K-clan?”
“You didn’t ask. You simply said we were coming this afternoon. And they’re in the living room, waiting for you to get your lazy tookus out of bed. But I got tired of waiting, and as your mother, who carried you in my womb for nine months, felt I had the right to come wake you up. Now, I’m giving you five minutes to make yourself presentable, brush your teeth, and come greet your family. Now go.” His mother gave him a pat on his leg and shut his bedroom door behind her.
Kyle looked around his bedroom. A pair of rumpled Under Armour shorts were thrown over the recliner sitting in the corner of his room. The sixty inch television mounted on his wall facing his bed had the Dish network emblem bouncing sporadically on the screen, indicating that it had turned itself to sleep mode in the middle of the night when Kyle had drifted off watching the replay of his move on Sports Center.
“I still don’t know how in the hell I pulled that one off,” he muttered to himself.
Pushing his navy blue comforter off his legs, he swung them over the side of the bed and walked toward his bathroom. Turning on his glass-enclosed steam shower, he began brushing his teeth at the bathroom counter tailored to his height. The first thing Kyle had done when he bought his condo in downtown Oklahoma City was have a contractor come in and completely renovate it in proportion to his size. Standard countertops didn’t work well with his six-eight frame.
Now, his home sported high ceilings with wooden beams, extra tall countertops topped with cream and tan granite, bronze fixtures, and dark brown concrete floors. Clean, modern, no fuss. Perfect for a guy who was gone sixty percent of the time.
Kyle stepped in the shower and let the hot water stream down his back. He would have loved to stay in at least ten more minutes, letting the water relax his taut muscles, but he knew as soon as he did his mother would come in and pull him out of the shower by his ears.
Stepping out of the steaming shower with a groan, he quickly toweled off, threw on a pair of shorts that smelled fairly clean and reminded himself to do laundry before opening his door that led to his open plan living, dining and kitchen area.
“Surprise!” Kyle walked in to see his entire family sporting t-shirts with the words MVP 2015 and underneath them, a huge picture of his face. All of them had cone-shaped party hats perched on their heads with the word ‘Congratulations’ scripted on the front. The ensemble was completed with party blowers hanging out of the sides of their mouths and huge star glasses perched on their noses with the words ‘You’re a star’ connecting the two lenses.
“What in the world?” Kyle’s jaw dropped in horror. He wiped his eyes, hoping that when he opened them again it would have all have been a sleep-deprived illusion.
“Don’t you love them?” his oldest sister, Kensi asked, a huge smile on her face. “Kylee came up with the idea. We ordered them in bulk so we had enough for all your friends when they come to the party.”
“Party? What party?”
“The ‘Hooray! You’re the MVP’ party, of course,” his other sister, Katie, chimed in. “Duh. You didn’t think we would let you celebrate alone, did you? Now, give us the numbers to all your friends so we can call and invite them. The party starts at six.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I won’t let anyone else see this embarrassment!”
“Hey, guys! Here’s his phone. I already sent out a message to all his friends on his favorites list,” his comrade in arms, correct that, former comrade in arms, Kacia said, waving his phone around.
“You didn’t. I thought you loved me the most.”
“Oh, I do, little brother,” she said, walking over and patting his cheek. “That’s why I did it. To show your friends how great of a family you have.”
Kyle looked down at his phone, which was blowing up with text messages from all his contacts Kacia sent the message to. He opened the text, interested to see what she sent. A selfie of herself in the full K-clan celebration garb was sent along with a ‘Celebrate my little brother’s MVP win with a party at his house! Be there or be square. Party’s at six. Bring food!’
“You did not ask my friends to bring food to the party you’re planning!”
“Well, at least then we’ll know we have enough. It’s called being resourceful.”
“That’s my girl. I knew I raised my kids to be thinkers.” Kyle’s mom high-fived all his sisters.
Kyle’s dad walked up to him and patted Kyle on the shoulder. “Sorry, son. I tried to talk them out of it. But you know how the Kelly women get when they get an idea in their heads.”
“Totally ridiculous?”
