The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(122)

“Me, too.”

“Which one is Charlie?” Goggy asked, squinting.

“Why won’t you get glasses?” Pops asked.

“I don’t need them. You’re the one who’s blind as a bat.”

Dad leaned forward and gave Tom’s shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck,” he said.

The bell rang. “Go, Charlie!” Abby bellowed. “You can do it, buddy!”

The rules of the Western New York Regional Junior Golden Gloves Competition stated that Charlie would have to go three rounds, each lasting ninety seconds. He’d won the first two fights—this was the championship match. Unfortunately, his opponent looked like Oscar de la Hoya and the Incredible Hulk rolled into one, seeming to outweigh Charlie by fifty pounds. Tom said that wasn’t possible, but it sure looked that way to Honor.

The longest two hundred and seventy seconds of her life, Honor bet, gnawing on her thumbnail. She almost couldn’t watch.

But, of course, she did, flinching every time the other kid landed a hit. Tom was on his feet yelling encouragement, “Come on, Charlie, that’s it, mate, get out of there, move away, almost there, bring it home, lad!”

Honor, too, jolted to her feet. “Hands up,” she yelled. “Get in there, Charlie!”

The entire Holland clan was screaming by the end, and when the referee held up Charlie’s arm, proclaiming him the winner, they just went wild.

Then Charlie, who was staggering with fatigue, went to the ropes and waved for Tom to join him.

Tom froze for a second, then turned to Honor. “I love you,” he said. It was something he told her at least five times a day, something that still made her heart squeeze. It always would, she knew. He bent down and kissed her stomach. “And I love you, baby,” he said.

Then he was off, into the ring to join their son.