<h4>Chapter 8 - Game Over, Jackpot In</h4>


    Another week passed, and Sunday morning rolled in like a quiet wave. I made my way into the kitchen, expecting the usual slow Harper routine, and was met with a familiar sight: Charlie, still wearing sunsses indoors, slouched at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee.


    n entered next, rubbing his eyes and heading for the toaster. He looked over at Charlie with a smirk. "So, how was the game?"


    Charlie let out a groan. "Musician''s softball league is a joke. A bunch of guys trying to catch stuff that isn''t there."


    n raised an eyebrow as he popped a bagel into the toaster. "Then why do you keep going?"


    Charlie shrugged and sipped his coffee. "There''s an open bar. And they let me pitch."


    I walked over, sat at the table, and casually scrolled through a note left on the counter. "Oh, Uncle Charlie—Amy left you a message. She says: ''You''re a big selfish jerk.'' She also wants you to call her back."


    Charlie didn''t even flinch. "That don''t happen," he muttered, sipping his coffee with the same calm as if I had told him the weather.


    n turned, eyebrows raised. "Amy? Isn''t she the one with the tattoo that says ''freedom'' in Mandarin, but it actually says ''shrimp''?"


    "Yup," Charlie replied. "Still not calling."


    We allughed lightly, but beneath the rxed energy was something else—a quiet tension. Today was the Super Bowl. n and Charlie walked to the deck.


    There was a knock at the door.


    I walked over to answer it, and as soon as I opened it, I instantly regretted being the one closest.


    "Hi, Grandma," I said as casually as I could.


    Without waiting another second, I bolted for the back door. As I passed the deck, I flung it open and shouted, "Gramma''s here! Save yourselves!"


    n and Charlie exchanged a brief look of panic.


    Momentster, Evelyn stepped into the kitchen, heels clicking sharply on the tile.


    "Charlie," she said, voice full of dramatic offense.


    Charlie stood slowly, straightening his shirt. "Mom. Wow. You... surprised us. You know, people usually call first."


    Evelyn gave him a pointed look. "I figured you wouldn''t pick up anyway."


    n stood frozen, then slowly raised his coffee in greeting. "Hi, Mom. I''m happy to see you."


    "Me too, gramma!" I said, knowing that there is no escape.


    "So, what you doing here?" asked Uncle Charlie.


    "I''m showing a house up the beach, and thought, while in the neighborhood, I would drop off a gift for my grandson," said Evelyn while writing a check.


    "You writing him a check? What kind of gift is that?" asked n, astonished.


    I looked the check. 200 bucks. Nice gift. But I think I''ve be a little numb because of the money I won in the bets. Nheless, I said, "Thank you, Gramma!" giving her a hug.


    Evelyn studied me for a moment, then tilted her head. "You don''t seem all that surprised about the money, sweetheart."


    Charlie chuckled from the side. "That''s because it''s nothingpared to what he made on the bets."


    n made an angry face to his brother.


    Evelyn slowly turned her gaze to Charlie. "Excuse me? What bets?"


    "The yoffs, that sort of thing," Charlie replied casually, leaning against the counter. "The kid''s got a real gift."


    Her eyes narrowed. "You let my grandson gamble?"


    "Hey, it was a group effort," Charlie said defensively. "And it worked."


    "How much?" she asked sharply.


    Charlie grinned. "700 grand."


    Evelyn froze. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she managed to speak. "700 thousand dors? And no one thought to include me?"


    n winced. "Here we go."


    Evelyn crossed her arms, ring at both of them. "I have been part of this family far longer than either of you have had working brain cells. I deserve a percentage."


    Charlie raised his coffee cup. "Wee back, Mom."


    "We actually bet on the Super Bowl too," I added casually.


    Evelyn''s eyes flicked toward me. "Of course you did."


    Charlie chuckled. "Odds were fifty to one. We put a hundred grand on the Rams winning 23 to 16."


    Evelyn blinked, lips parting in surprise. "Fifty to one? And you bet a hundred thousand?"


    "Yep," Charlie said, grinning. "A miracle, if it hits."


    Evelyn tapped her manicured nail against her chin, calcting. Then she gave a sharp nod. "I want in. I''m cing a hundred thousand too."


    n choked on his coffee. "You''re betting?"


    "If this family is throwing around money and hitting jackpots, I refuse to be the only one ying it safe," she dered.


    ———


    Later that evening, the three of us—me, n, and Charlie—were gathered in the living room, snacks stacked on the table, eyes fixed on the TV. The Super Bowl was underway, and the tension was thick.


    By the fourth quarter, the Rams were up by a touchdown. The score? 23 to 16.


    We all sat on the edge of our seats. n clutched a pillow like a life raft. Charlie paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. I just stared at the screen, heart pounding.


    Then, footsteps approached.


    "What''s all the fuss about?" Evelyn asked, stepping into the living room, almost making everyone having a heart attack


    "The final quarter," I said. "And the score is exactly right."


    Evelyn sat down without another word, her eyes instantly glued to the game.


    The Titans had onest chance. With seconds left, they pushed forward, desperate. The final y: a pass over the middle. Caught—and tackled one yard short.


    Game over.


    Rams win. 23 to 16.


    The room erupted.


    Charlie jumped and shouted, "YES!"


    n dropped the pillow and stared at the screen in disbelief. "It actually happened."


    Evelyn blinked a few times. "That was... precise."


    Charlie grabbed his phone to check the results. "That two hundred grand just turned into ten million. And mom... you''re in."


    Evelyn smiled smugly. "Now that''s a proper family activity."


    n stood up, still dazed. "We''re millionaires."


    I leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Told you guys."


    Ten million dors.


    But that wasn''t all.


    Charlie blinked at his phone, then looked back at us, stunned. "Wait—there''s more. The other bet. The one Jake made—ny grand?"


    n raised his eyebrows. "You did another bet?"


    I nodded slowly. "Yeah, we made it together to thest one."


    Charlie let out a low whistle. "Odds were a hundred to one. That ny thousand just turned into nine million."


    Evelyn stood up, gripping the back of the couch for bnce. "You mean to tell me we just made neen million dors in one night?"


    "Technically," Charlie said, smirking, "yes. Before taxes."


    n looked like he might faint.


    Evelyn, everposed, took a deep breath and smoothed her jacket. "Well then. I suppose I should stay the night. We have a lot of nning to do."


    Charlie groaned, but I couldn''t stop smiling.