Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
NOAH
Even though I know I shouldn’t have kissed Allie, I couldn’t help myself. I would have never pushed it had she said no, but then she threw herself into my arms and I felt like the luckiest man alive.
I wait while she unlocks the outside door that leads to her upstairs apartment. When I open it for her, she turns and smiles shyly. “I had a nice night.”
“Me too,” I respond with a little more gusto than might seem cool. But I really did have a wonderful time, and I want her to know that.
“I like you, Noah.” Allie valiantly tries not to make eye contact, which means she’s either embarrassed by what happened or she’s wishing it never did. Meanwhile, I’m hoping it’s neither.
Trying to soften my expression to an irresistible smolder, I tell her, “You’re pretty great yourself.”
I know my attempt at sexiness fails because she laughs at me. “Don’t flirt with me,” she says plainly. “We’re friends, that’s all.”
“Friends who kiss,” I remind her, sounding like a pouting kid.
“Maybe ...”
Her expression is full of warning, so I don’t cross her. Instead, I ask, “Have you given any more thought to the girls joining us for morning practice?” I hadn’t planned on offering that, but I want to see Allie as often as I can, while I can.
“I’ll ask the girls about it,” she says. “But I probably won’t come in that early. I want to make sure Margie gets a good breakfast every morning.”
“You sound like a mother already,” I tell her.
“I suppose helping Margie will be good practice for me. Although, I feel more like her big sister than her mom.”
“Has she been to the doctor yet?” I want to know.
“Next Tuesday. I’m going to take her during lunch.”
“Are either of her parents going?”
She shakes her head. “Not that I know of. Considering their stance, I’m pretty sure neither of them would want to.”
“Has Margie asked Jordan to come?”
Allie seems surprised by the question. “Do you think he’d want to?”
“Maybe. I mean, this is his baby, too,” I remind her.
“Yeah, but he’s in the same camp as her mom and dad.” She doesn’t need to tell me which camp that is.
“That doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “If Margie ever wants Jordan to feel like the dad, she needs to include him.”
Allie’s head moves up and down slowly. “You’re probably right. I’ll mention it to her.” Then she says, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she walks up the stairs, I can’t help but wonder what our lives would have looked like had Allie and I found a connection sooner. Although, I don’t know when that could have been. Allie met her husband in college, and I was already living in Chicago by then.
As I cross the street and get into my car, I consider how strange life is. Just when you think you’re on the path to realizing your dreams, things can shift that throw you right off track. Had my school not replaced me, I would have still been in Chicago, fighting the good fight.
Had Allie not had any miscarriages, she would be a married mom living in Madison with her family. As such, we might have never run into each other again.
But I was demoted, which led to my quitting my dream job, and Allie’s husband turned out to be a world-class turd. Now here we are, both back in our hometown, wondering what to do next. I don’t think either of us expected to wind up in each other’s arms.
Allie Rogers is an amazing woman. She’s overcome a lot more than I ever imagined.
But instead of becoming bitter toward all things baby-related, she welcomed a pregnant teenager into her home.
Not only that, but she’s also found a path where she can make her own dreams come true. Talk about impressive.
Then there’s me who’s simply biding my time, hoping against hope that Banks’ new coach isn’t what everyone expects him to be.
Although, how he can’t be great is beyond me.
Not only did he play for the NBA, but he also had a successful run as a college coach.
The only reason he even took the job at Banks was so he could coach his grandson.
Why couldn’t his grandson have gone to Payton or Northside instead?
As soon as I get home, I walk to the mailbox and retrieve today’s haul. Then I stroll up the dark path leading to the front door. I’m going to have to turn on the timer for the porch light now that the days are getting shorter.
Once I’m inside, I turn on the lights and plop down on the couch in the living room. Flipping through the mail, I discover a letter with Tom Hanks’ return address on it. Opening the envelope, I pull out three sheets of paper. The first is a handwritten note.
Noah,
Here are the people who have signed our petition so far. I thought you might like to see who’s rallying behind you.
Tom
I’m initially surprised he sent this snail mail instead of just emailing it.
But I suppose we’re from a generation that doesn’t fully trust that electronic communications are private.
And while his supporting me isn’t as controversial as, say, accusing a presidential candidate of consorting with the enemy, he probably still wants to portray public neutrality.
Looking through the list, I’m surprised to see some names and equally amazed not to find others.
You never really know who your friends are until the chips are down.
For instance, Tom has always struck me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t go to bat for an underdog—me.
But then again, he’s hoping his son gets an offer from Stanford or Princeton.
As such, the Bulldogs, and Troy, need to do great this year.
Opening my laptop, I pull up my current team’s roster.
There’s only one guy on it who might have a shot of playing college ball, and as luck would have it, that person is Jordan.
I really feel for the kid, because if Margie decides to keep their baby, the most he can hope for is community college.
Even that would be a stretch given how much money he’ll need to make to just keep a roof over his and Margie’s head.
I don’t know if they’ll stay together as a couple at that point, but I would imagine for cost effectiveness alone, they would at least be roommates.
On impulse, I pick up my phone and call Lorelai. She answers immediately. “Hey, Booger.” Even though I’ve always hated her childhood nickname for me, I still feel a smile cross my face.
“Hey, Chirp.” My nickname for her comes from her relentless chattering as a child.
“Why are you calling?” she wants to know.
“I have a question. What do you think Mom and Dad would have done if one of us got pregnant in high school?”
Without skipping a beat, she says, “If it happened to you, the first thing they’d do is call a specialist.”
“Ha, ha. I mean what would they have done if I’d gotten my girlfriend pregnant?”
“I don’t think they would have been thrilled if either of us got into that situation so young.”
“But they would have supported us, right?” I want to know.
“Of course, they would have. Why? Did you get someone pregnant?” She sounds horrified at the very prospect.
“No,” I tell her. “One of the guys on my team got his girlfriend pregnant. Neither of their parents are willing to help.”
Lorelai asks, “Is this the girl who’s moved in with Allie?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s got to be hard on parents,” my sister says. “But even so, I can’t imagine loving your kid their whole life and then not standing by them when they need you the most. It doesn’t make sense.”
Part of me wants to tell my sister how I’m starting to feel about Allie, but I’m afraid she won’t be able to keep her mouth shut. The last thing I want for Allie is to feel any pressure coming from me. Especially because I’m not going to be in Elk Lake for very long.
So instead, I ask, “Has Allie told you she agreed to take on coaching the girls’ basketball team?”
“She has. She also told me how much she loves teaching. Thank you for thinking of her when you heard about the job opening. I think it’s going to be great for her.”
“I do, too.” Then I share, “She told me more about why her husband left her.”
“She did? I’m surprised.”
“Why? I’m a good guy,” I tell her.
“You are, but Allie is private about all that. She feels like she’s somehow to blame for having miscarriages.”
“Does she even know that the reason she miscarried was her fault?” I ask. It does take two, after all.
“She didn’t have any testing done, but Brett impregnated someone else successfully.”
“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” I ask. “Allie would be a great mom, and Brett—from his actions alone—doesn’t deserve the honor of being a dad.”
“Life isn’t always fair,” my sister quotes our mother’s favorite saying. “Look at the poor girl who’s living with Allie.”
“That’s a tough one,” I tell her. Then I ask, “How are you doing? How’s Luke?”
“Haven’t you talked to him?”
“It’s kind of hard since I work during the day and he’s on the night shift. We text once in a while though.”
“He’s good. Wonderful actually,” she practically croons. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe we actually wound up together.”
“Your years of pining have finally paid off,” I tease her.
“Speaking of years of pining …” I know where she’s going with this even before she finishes her sentence. “Anything going on with you and Allie?”
Instead of answering, I want to know, “Has she said something?” Because if she has, I’d like to know what it is.
“Hardly,” Lorelai scoffs. “As far as I know she’s still mourning Brett and you …” The last word is said like an accusation. “You aren’t smart enough to go after someone like Allie.”
I kick my shoes off before putting my feet up on the coffee table. “That’s mean.”
“It’s true, though. Face it, Noah, you’re probably going to be single forever. Your big love is basketball.”
I can see why she thinks that. I don’t have a track record of introducing my family to women I’ve dated but that’s because I’ve never wanted them to get any ideas. But now, well, it seems I’m the one getting ideas. Which is starting to cause me some concern.