the team bus on Tuesday.”
“Travis is sitting right over there,” I said.
Howard adjusted his glasses with his thumb. “District protocol requires an immediate parent unless there is a written exemption.”
“My father has lived in this county for seventy-nine years,” I said. “He paid taxes in this school district before this gym was built.”
“I know who Duane Ostrem is, Brenda,” Howard said, his tone softening just a fraction. “I bought my first calf off him in seventy-eight.”
“Then put his name on the microphone sheet,” I said.
Howard looked at the clock on the wall above the scoreboard. It clicked over to six-eight.
“Is Duane actually in the building?” Howard asked.
“He is walking through the side doors right now,” I said.
Howard looked at the index card one more time. He took his blue pen, drew a single line through the blank spot beside Kaylee’s name,
