"Happy anniversary, bro."

"Thanks," I say, clinking glasses of tea with Troy. "Thanks for having me and Carrie over for the barbecue."

Troy laughs as we sit on the back porch of his house. The late spring sun is low in the horizon, and we're both relaxing after a good day of off-season conditioning. The humidity is tough on me. Carrie and I have only been back in Jacksonville a week since her graduation, and after the California dryness, it takes a while. "Duncan, you live two blocks away. You, me and Carrie carpooled to work half the time last season. I think having you over the day after your first wedding anniversary is hardly out of the question."

"Still," I say, leaning back. "It was nice of you and Whit to cut your time in Silver Lake Falls short in order to come back here."

"Well, after Patricia's news, this summer's going to be pretty hectic. I thought you and I might just get our heads in the right zone before everything goes nuts. I mean, we've already had Carrie's graduation and your anniversary. Then what, you two go off on your honeymoon, and Cory and Patricia's wedding—all of this before training camp, by the way."

I smile and nod, sipping the tea. It's good, and Troy insists on the best quality. He doesn't knock me for the occasional beer, but since he's dry as a bone, I don't drink at all around him. It just isn't right to treat your friend that way. "Yeah, that's gotta be a brain buster, your new father-in-law being your high school teammate. We'll all be busy, though. But you stayed in good shape up there in Washington. At least, Carrie said so."

"Your wife is a taskmaster in the weight room." Troy laughs. "It's weird to be intimidated by a woman who's pushing you to work harder when she just had a baby six months ago. By the way, Whit's a bit jealous at how quickly Carrie bounced back to her pre-baby weight."

I snort. "Oh, like she has anything to worry about. I see the way you look at her. You need to be careful, or else you're going to be having child number three soon enough."

"That'd be nice," Troy says, and he means it, I can tell. "One kid for each bedroom . . . it'd be nice. Kind of completes the house.”

"It would, wouldn't it?"

We sit for a few more minutes, thinking our own thoughts. Carrie and Whitney are out. Whitney's got a line on some new artist she wants to work with, and Carrie's taking our daughter, Cammy, in for a checkup, giving Troy and I some guy time before we start the grill. Even Laurie and Travis are gone, off with their mother for a little while.

"So are you looking forward to next season?"

"Aren't you?" Troy asks with a grin. "We made the conference championship this year. I want to get back at Denver for that last-minute field goal. I missed the block by—man, I saw the tape a hundred times. I missed tipping that ball by less than an inch."

"I know. I keep going over that missed catch I had that led to the final punt. You know, the Pro Bowl and taking third in Rookie of the Year were nice, but I'd have liked that conference champion's ring, and of course, the Super Bowl.”

"It sounds strange to say it, but I think it'll happen," Troy says. "I mean, I know that every player says that, but with what we've got going here, the chances are good."

We hear two cars pull up out front, and Troy and I quickly finish our teas and get up, Troy opening up the grill and starting to scrub the grate while I go inside and get the steaks out of the fridge. The front door flies open, and Laurie comes tearing in, her little brother trying to keep up, but his soon to be two-year-old legs can't keep up with his sister, and Travis lags behind. "Hi, Duncan!" Laurie calls out as she streaks past, looking for her target. "Daddy!"

Troy puts down his grill brush and sweeps his daughter up and into a hug. She might be eight, but missing those five years, she still loves getting hugs and playing with her father, and Troy's a good one. Travis comes by, his little toddler legs working hard, and Troy sets Laurie down long enough to give his son a hug before going back to his work while they go off to play in the back yard.

The front door closes, and Whitney and Carrie come in, Cammy on Carrie's back in her sling and something between them. "What in the world did you get?"

"It's a landscape," Whitney says matter-of-factly, patting the huge brown paper-wrapped package. "The artist had it available, and I bought it for you guys."

"Whitney, you didn't need to," I say honestly. "I mean, you've got a great eye, and that piece in our living room is great, but . . . that thing's huge!"

"Oh, we'll find room for it after we get back from the Bahamas," Carrie says, coming over and giving me a kiss. "How are you doing?"

"I could use a rub-down," I tease, kissing her lips. "Even Troy was whining about what you put us through."

"Hey, thank Coach T. He helped me on the design. But we'll see what we can do, especially if you return the favor."

Carrie turns, and I see that Cammy's fallen asleep on her mother's back, a content little smile on her face. I kiss my daughter's mostly still-bald head, and whisper in her ear, "Daddy loves you, my angel."

"So how was her doctor's appointment?"

"We're both doing fine," Carrie says, exchanging looks with Whitney, who chuckles and nods. "In fact, Whitney and I have some news for both of you. Troy?"

Troy, who's started the gas grill, closes the lid and comes to the door while Laurie and Travis play outside in their play area. "Yes, Carrie?"

Whitney looks at Carrie again, and I can see they've been planning something, sharing a secret. "Well, we wanted to tell you together. The visit to Dr. Lee's—we kind of both asked her to check us out as well."

"Is everything okay?" Troy asks, and Whitney nods. She goes over and puts her arms around Troy's neck, standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

"It's perfect. Actually, Troy, our summer just got a bit busier. Congratulations, Daddy. You have a third child on the way."

"No fu— no way!" I say, grinning. "You dog! Weren't we just talking about that?”

"Oh, don't celebrate too early," Carrie says, pulling me into a kiss. "Because Whitney's not the only one pregnant again."

Carrie's words hit my mind, and our kiss deepens, my heart swelling at her news. Troy coughs politely, and I realize that I'm cupping my wife's breast in the middle of his kitchen. "Sorry. Got carried away."

"Well, it's not like there's a problem with that." Whitney laughs. "Carrie and I both admitted we were feeling a bit strange while we were out, and so on a whim, we asked Dr. Lee to give us the tests."

I look at Troy, and he's just as happy as I am. "You know what this means, right, EC?"

EC is my personal nickname for Troy, since he keeps going on and on about emotional content. He's even got a t-shirt that he wears under his shoulder pads with that printed on it.

Troy looks back and nods. "Damn right. We're going to have to go all the way this year. Super Bowl champs."

I take Carrie's hand and kiss her knuckles. "With the right team around us, how can we fail?"

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