Chapter 11

Growing up, Charlie didn't spend much time with kids his own age. Pick-up games with Don and his friends were usually the only opportunity he got to play basketball. While his talent and love of the game were all his own, the chance to develop it was a gift from his big brother.

Charlie never resented being dependent upon Don in that way, because he knew how easy it would have been for Don to shut him out. Why give his genius brother one more opportunity to outshine him? But if Don resented Charlie's talent on the court, he never let it show. If Charlie outperformed him or his friends, Don would just laugh and say, "See? I told you he was good." Maybe he was just relieved that Charlie could do something normal for once. But hearing Don brag about him that way had always made Charlie feel ten feet tall.

Memories like that floated in the back of Charlie's mind like a dull ache the entire flight back home. While in Los Angeles, the game started without him.

As the cab from the airport pulled up to the house, Charlie let out a long, frustrated sigh. He'd been called in at the last minute to consult on a project for the NSA and been unable to make it back in time for the game. He'd called several times to apologize, but Don would only teasingly question him about the assignment, knowing Charlie couldn't answer.

It was important work, impossible to abandon. But he'd been looking forward to this game since the first time Don mentioned it and he'd have done just about anything to have been there.

"Hello?" he called out as he entered the house.

"Hey, Charlie!" his dad called back.

Charlie dumped his carry-on bag and laptop in the entryway and followed the sound of his father's voice. He found him in the living room, in his favorite chair, holding a book that he quickly set aside. As Charlie approached, Alan stood up and pulled him into a hug. After releasing him and settling back down into his chair, he asked, "So, ah, you have a good trip?"

Charlie smiled. Alan had learned to accept that there were things his sons couldn't tell him, but it wasn't always easy. "It was fine." He sank down onto the ottoman at his father's feet and all of the frustration he'd kept pent up all day came into his voice as he confessed, "I'm sorry I missed the game."

Charlie quickly looked away, embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion. It was stupid to get upset over anything so trivial, but he couldn't help it. Maybe it was just his body's way of trying to find some release after a couple of stressful days with the NSA.

Alan reached out and grabbed his knee. "Hey! Hey! None of that. Look, you're a grown man with important responsibilities. Donnie understands." In a rueful tone he added, "He gave me quite the lecture on it, actually."

Charlie nodded and pulled himself together. Turning back to face him, he asked, "How was the game? Did they win?"

Alan smiled, but the pause before he answered said it all. "They'll get 'em next time."

Charlie groaned at the news.

"They played good defense tonight; they just couldn't make enough shots. It was still a good game, though. Donnie played well. And that new girl, what's her name? Oh, and David made a couple 3-pointers that…" Alan trailed off and simply whistled in admiration.

Charlie forced a smile into place. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask who had subbed for him, but he didn't really want to hear it. Instead he asked, "What about Terry?"

Alan nodded and waved his hands in vague circles. "Oh, well. She, ah, played very well. Until she was ejected."

"Ejected?"

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Flagrant foul. I didn't see it happen, but all the sudden this guy from the other team is lying flat on his back, and she's standing over him shouting 'How tall am I now?' You know, I still don't know what that was all about. But Don – he couldn't stop laughing."

Charlie scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth to cover a smile.

Alan eyed him for a moment, but when Charlie didn't offer any comment he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Well, anyway, that was the beginning of the end. They had the lead early on, but they also had a lot of turnovers and inconsistency. After Terry left the court and they called in a substitute…" Alan shrugged and concluded, "They never really got it back after that. The final score was 64-51."

Charlie hung his head with a sigh, even though he knew it was a mistake. He could feel his father watching him and knew if he didn't look up soon, attempts to cheer him up would begin.

Sure enough, after a moment, Alan offered, "Amita came to the game."

Charlie winced. Any fantasy he'd had about dazzling her with his athletic prowess was completely blown. Plus, he wasn't allowed to discuss his work for the NSA with her. Tomorrow, he'd repeat a vague explanation about why he'd missed the game and probably come off like a self-centered jerk who was more interested in making money on a consulting job than showing up for the game. "Not helping," he sighed.

"Sorry." After a minute, Alan tried again. "Hey! Donnie wore a knee brace for the game. Guess how he hurt his leg."

Charlie smiled despite himself and looked up. "How?"

"Playing 'Capture the Flag' with a bunch of kids."

"No!"

Alan chuckled. "Yeah, apparently he dropped by while David was babysitting his sister's kids and ended up organizing a game of 'Capture the Flag' with the kids and some of their friends.

"Oh! He used to do that when we were kids! That was the best!"

"And now with all his FBI training…"

"Right!" Charlie nodded. He lapsed into silence picturing it. Don had been great at 'Capture the Flag' when they were kids. He would organize friends and kids from the neighborhood into an elaborate game that took the whole afternoon. Win or lose, you came home feeling like you'd had a big adventure. Add FBI tactics to that, and it must have been amazing. Well, until Don got hurt, of course.

Something else occurred to Charlie. "What did you have to give Terry to find that out?"

Alan looked surprised. "My recipe for double-fudge brownies. How did you know that?"

Charlie crossed his arms and shrugged. "Just a guess."

Alan gave him a long, considering look that suggested he was wondering if he'd been had. But all he said was, "Good guess."

Charlie stood up quickly to avoid any further discussion of Terry's penchant for trading information. "Well, I should talk to Don. Apologize again. Did he go home?"

Alan hesitated before answering. "No. He's still here. He's out on the back porch with Terry. But, listen, why don't you wait until tomorrow? It's late, huh? You two can talk in the morning."

Charlie was only half listening as he started toward the back door. "No, no. I better talk to him tonight. You know how competitive he can be. If I know Don, he's inconsolable right now."