Chapter 24 Weston #2
“Ah, yes. Thanks to the internet for storing every image ever posted.”
“Did she really leave you because you wanted to retire?”
I nodded and took a bite of my sausage, egg, and cheese burrito.
“It took a lot of therapy for me to learn Brianna left because she wasn’t happy.
Not with me, her life, or the life we shared.
She was right for leaving. We’re both happier being who we are now than who we were together.
We were always better as friends, which is what we are now.
We text or call each other occasionally. ”
My eyes were on Antonia’s expressions, waiting to see what she would do or say. At first, Brianna leaving had gutted me, but then I’d woken up and realized I had so much more to offer than baseball.
“Wow, I’m sorry.”
I gave her a small shrug. “It was a long time ago, and I’m well over it.”
“Well, that’s good then. I still have to work with my ex, so there’s that.”
“Ouch. That might be a tough one.”
“Eh. He’s probably over it.” She scooped a forkful and ate.
“Are you?”
Antonia nodded quickly. “Oddly, I’m not even bothered by it. It was probably for the best.”
It was definitely for the best for me.
The rest of the morning and into the afternoon, I sat in my office at school with my thoughts. One might think those thoughts would’ve been about the upcoming game, but they were all about Antonia. My mom had always said to believe in the signs. Was this a sign?
This one being that Antonia was single, and from my guess, she wasn’t heartbroken over it.
She wasn’t hard to read, but then again, she could be masking her emotions because of what she was going through with Miriam.
My fingers drummed on my blotter, the rolled edges catching my attention. I moved the scattered papers off the calendar and looked at the date, shocked to see it was exactly three years old. How come I’d never replaced it?
With more observation, I noticed the sentence I had written down: Start dating again.
I frowned, not remembering writing those words. The messy scrawl was definitely mine. The date itself didn’t mean anything to me, at least not something I could recall. The team would’ve been heading into playoffs, and my mind would’ve been on basketball and the upcoming baseball season.
Now my mind was on not only my responsibilities as a coach but my interest in Antonia.
I had to put her out of my mind, at least for right now. We had a game in a couple of hours, and I needed to plan. I brought my computer to life and pulled up game footage and notes Jerome had put together for me, taking my own notes as I watched.
After I finished, I wrote out my game plan: who would guard whom during our man-to-man, what plays we were going to run when they switched their defense. From the video, I was able to ascertain a pattern with their coach, which I could easily work to our advantage.
Voices began filtering in. The boys walked past my office, saying hi as they made their way to the locker room. Within minutes of their arrival, I heard the gym door open, and music began playing.
Jerome came in and dumped his bag on the couch. “Malik’s out there and is in a good mood.”
“That’s refreshing.” I leaned back in my chair and tapped my pen against my desk, once again noticing the blotter. I hadn’t bothered changing the page and didn’t think I would.
“I take it everything went okay with his dad?”
I nodded and gave him a half shrug. “Malik said they talked after I left.” I sat up and stood. “It’s not an ideal situation for anyone, that’s for sure. I just don’t want to see him throwing his life away.”
“Right.”
Jerome and I made our way out to the court, mostly to watch the boys shoot around. I’d always told them that anytime they wanted to use the gym, all they had to do was ask one of us, and we’d come open it for them. I’d rather spend my free time here with them. Anything to keep them out of trouble.
“Coach, wanna shoot?” Malik asked.
“No, thanks. Coach Levy does, though.” I gave Jerome a little shove onto the court. Secretly, he loved playing with the kids but was always afraid to show them up. He’d played in college but had never given a professional career a thought.
Game day staff started to arrive. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs wafted through the corridor and into the gym each time the doors opened.
Fans began filling the stands, and the school-appropriate music played to entertain the spectators.
In the corner, the cheerleaders practiced their routine, and Gordon took it upon himself to sweep the court.
While the boys went to change, I sat on the bench with Jerome and watched the other team filter in. Our athletic director showed them where to go, even though their coach had been here more than a dozen times.
“Who’s the tall kid?” I asked Jerome. The boy had to be at least six five.
“Not sure. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Shit,” I muttered as I walked toward the admissions table to grab a roster. Sure enough, it listed a new kid. “How’d we miss this?”
Jerome took the flyer from my hand and shook his head. “I watched them on Monday. He wasn’t on the roster or the bench.”
The state had a rule where players had to have completed ten practices before they could play. Being that Jerome was there at the beginning of the week to scout, and the player wasn’t on the bench, one could assume he didn’t have his ten practices in. There was no way to tell or even know.
“I hate being unprepared.”
“Maybe he’ll stay on the bench,” Jerome surmised.
He didn’t, and by halftime, we were down fifteen.
We gave the boys a minute to get to the locker room. I checked the stats in the home book, and then we were on our way. When I entered the team room, all heads were down. It was clear they weren’t in the right mindset.
“Guys, we have seven minutes to talk it out. What do we need to do to turn this around?”
“Execute our plays,” Malik said. “Hit the slashers before the defense can adjust.”
“We’re not helping on defense. Our posts need help because they’re just lobbing it into that big kid,” another added.
“We need paint touches. If the shot isn’t there, we’re open on the outside,” Cutter said.
“Hard, crisp passes, and they need to be fast,” Jayden added. “We need to move their defense.”
I made eye contact with each of my players, nodding as they spoke to what they were witnessing on the court and how they were playing.
“The only thing I want to add to what everyone’s saying is to play hard, play with confidence, and play the game you know how to play. If you play your game, you’ll be victorious. But you can’t hang your heads because we’re down by fifteen.”
We gathered in a huddle and then broke off. Jerome and I followed the boys upstairs and mentally prepared for the second half of the game.
When I came through the door and into the gym, my eyes sought out Antonia. I’d done a damn good job of ignoring her, but now they were homed in on her.
Nova sat on her lap, and they danced in their seat to the music. Antonia directed Nova’s arms in every which way while she bopped her legs up and down.
Samira, Edith, and Vera sat around Miriam, almost as if they were creating a barrier around her. It was nice to see and honestly expected. The Grove Hill community took care of their own.
I desperately wanted to go over and visit, but doing so would raise a lot of eyebrows, and my sole focus needed to be on the boys and the game, not the woman across the way whom I wanted to get to know better.
The horn sounded to start the second half, and within three minutes of play, the game was tied.
For the rest of the game, I coached my ass off, changing defenses on a whim to throw the other team off.
I’d throw on the press, only for them to call a time-out to make the adjustment, and then I’d have my guys pick up at half-court.
For two quarters, the score went back and forth, but the only one that mattered was the one at the final buzzer. Grove Hill won by two.
This evening, when it was time to leave, I didn’t hesitate to walk back into the gym, knowing Antonia would be waiting for Cutter.
She smiled at me as I walked toward the exit, even though I fully intended to stop and chat with her.
“Nice win,” Miriam said. I wanted to give her a hug but refrained. She had a mask on, and I figured it wouldn’t be smart.
“Thanks. Cutter played a great game.”
Miriam beamed and walked with Samira to sit down and wait for Cutter to come out of the locker room.
“You won,” Antonia said. “Sorry, but that’s all I know.”
“Fair enough. I could teach you about the game if you want.”
She nodded. “That’s probably best, considering . . .”
“How about dinner tonight?” I hadn’t meant to ask, but now that I had, I felt like a teenager all over again.
Antonia smiled. “In town, right? I don’t want to go too far.”
“Absolutely. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Bring Scout. He can stay at the house while we’re out.”
Now it was me who was grinning. “He’ll love it. See you in a bit.” I winked and left her there before I said something stupid like asking her to move in or marry me.
I drove home as fast as I could, showered, fed Scout, and put him in the truck to be on time for my date with Antonia. I didn’t care if it was to the diner—we were going out and were going to spend some quality hours in each other’s company.
The front door opened as I pulled into the driveway. I didn’t bother shutting my truck off as Scout and I made our way to the porch. Scout greeted Nova with a barrage of kisses, causing her to giggle. The sound brought a smile to my face.
Antonia appeared in the doorway, still dressed in the jeans she’d worn earlier. Gone was the Timberwolves shirt, having been replaced by a white collared shirt and burgundy sweater. I held the screen door for her as she stepped onto the porch.