Three hours of bowling and Travis had learned nothing other than Mike was highly competitive and a sore loser. Travis didn’t care. He poured his frustration into the bowling ball and hurled it down the lane. The pins exploded, the loud whack fighting with “Jingle Bell Rock” blaring from speakers. Cautioning himself not to gloat over the win and alienate Mike, Travis turned back to the group. Hank looked at Travis, a snide grin on his chubby face. “So glad you came along so Mike didn’t skunk all of us.” He slid his ball into a neon-orange tote bag. “I’m out of here. Catch you guys tomorrow.” “Hold up, I’ll walk out with you.” Nick shrugged into a lightweight jacket, his slight frame the opposite of Hank’s, a man who could easily fill in for Santa Claus without any padding. “Fine, run home to your wives,” Mike said tauntingly. Hank picked up his bag and scowled.
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