Chapter 11
Jabari
Val and I stand outside the diner getting ready to say good-bye. At least, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing, but I can’t find the words. Knowing I’m about to face all the coaches and tell them the bad news has my stomach in knots.
“Val?”
“Yes?”
“Are you busy this afternoon?”
I hear the sound of her shifting feet. “What are you thinking?”
I run a hand across my chin, gathering the right words . . . and maybe even a little bit of courage. “I need to go meet with the coaches.”
“Where’s your driver?”
I blink. “At lunch. I told him I’d text when I needed to be picked up.” Turns out it is cheaper to hire a driver than spend tons on rideshares. Luke is now my personal driver.
“Do you need a ride? I’m happy to take you to the arena, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Wait, she thinks I want her to be my chauffeur? A bark of laughter falls from my lips. “No, I don’t want you to drive me around. I was actually hoping you might come with me to the meeting.”
Silence greets my ears, and my nerves mount. She hates the idea, doesn’t she? Is she searching for a way to shoot me down? Or does she want to come but is worried Jackie will find out?
Doh! I should smack myself in the forehead Homer Simpson style. “Never mind, Val. I know you haven’t spoken to Jackie about our friendship.” And for the first time, guilt fills me.
What kind of pressure is our relationship causing Val? The Elliott sisters were really close. Surely that hasn’t changed over the past ten years.
“I haven’t told her we’re friends, but maybe I should.”
My brows raise. “Will that go over well?”
“No.” She huffs out a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “She almost went apoplectic when she found out I went out on a blind date with you.”
“You told her we went out?”
She sighs. “I may have hedged a bit and just said we were set up. I didn’t tell either of my sisters that I stayed and enjoyed a nice dinner with you or that I gave you my number. And I may have also agreed to never talk to you again.”
“Why does she hate me? I don’t understand.”
Val hums as if thinking. I angle my head to see her a little bit better, but all I see is dark hair and a hand shifting through it. Whatever’s going on in her head, I’ll be patient. The silence doesn’t bother me.
“Since we’ve been talking, I’ve begun to wonder if she didn’t give me the whole truth. Honestly, I haven’t wanted to dredge up the past with either of you. It’s not really my business.”
“It is,” I say quietly. “We’re friends, and that gives you the right to ask me the hard questions. I promise to always answer truthfully.”
“Jabari,” she whispers. “I’m not sure I can handle the truth right now.”
“Fair enough.” I slowly nod. “Whenever you want to talk about it, you know how to reach me.”
“Thank you for not pushing.”
“Of course.” But that one comment has me wondering how many people in Val’s life push her beyond her readiness.
If I can offer her one thing—because I’m certainly not the hockey player Raimo offered, not anymore—it’s my willingness to go her speed.
If she doesn’t want anyone knowing we’re friends, then I’ll remain hidden.
If she wants to tell her family, I’ll reassure them I have no ulterior motives.
I’ve never had a friend quite like Val Elliott, and I certainly don’t want to mess this up. Who knew I needed someone I could trust with the hard stuff?
“I have to get Jackie’s dry cleaning, but if you want a ride, I can drop you off at the arena.” She clears her throat. “But, um, I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to attend the meeting with your coaches. They all know my father, and I can’t risk this getting back to him.”
A warm hand reaches for mine, and I clasp it, so she knows her answer is okay.
“I’m sorry, Jabari.”
“Don’t be. I get it. I don’t want to cause a strain between you and your family.” I squeeze her hand, then let go.
My throat stings, and I can’t figure out why, so I shove my hands into my pockets. “Where’s the dry cleaners?”
“Columbia Heights. Do you mind the detour?”
“No.” It’ll give us more time to hang out. The voice texts are nice, but spending time face-to-face is even better. I’ll leave a message for Luke, letting him know the change of plans. Hopefully, he’ll enjoy a nice long lunch.
“What’s an average day like for you?” I ask once Val’s driving.
“I usually sit in meetings for Dad or Jackie. Fran never wants me to assist her, but she’ll ask me to arrange travel if one of the other assistants is busy.”
“I thought you were the project manager?” Isn’t that what she said on our blind date?
“I am, but I do a lot of assistant tasks while managing everyone’s projects.”
“What does that entail?”
“I keep a database of all the client information—when contracts are due for negotiations, the client’s playing schedule, and anything else they want their agent to track. I also keep note of athletes who are searching for representation, et cetera.”
“Sounds like a lot of spinning plates.”
She laughs. The sound is light and airy, and makes my lips shift upward. Despite a busy life, Val seems so centered. How did she get that way? A two-parent upbringing? Having support from two sisters?
“There are so many spinning plates, but we have the right amount of employees for it all. As long as everyone does their part, things run smoothly.”
“And you’re running things.”
I don’t hear a shoulder shrug, but I get the vibe she makes the move anyway. Val seems the type to brush off accolades when she’s probably the one who deserves them the most.
“Dad runs things.”
“Because his project manager doesn’t let anything slip past her fingers.”
“Hush. Enough about me. What about you? How did you get into hockey? It’s not like a lot of African Americans are in the league.”
“Definitely not, but I credit my mom. She won a pair of kids’ ice skates one Christmas.
She’d been working two jobs when I was a toddler, barely making ends meet, so she entered a bunch of sweepstakes that were giving away kids’ toys.
She hit the jackpot that year. Won a pair of ice skates, a toy car set from another store, and a superhero bed set from another company.
She still has the pictures of me attempting to stand up in the skates for the first time. ”
A smile lifts my lips at the memory. “She took me to the local rink on Thursdays because it was only a dollar to skate if you owned a pair, and she set out to teach me on her own.”
“When did you start learning how to play hockey?”
“When I was seven. The local NHL team held intensives for low-income families. I’m not sure how my mom found out, but she signed me up, and I’ve been in love with the sport ever since.”
Now I can’t play. What did I do to deserve this?
Don’t think about that now. Just focus on Val. You don’t get to hang out with her nearly enough.
All true, but even that thought is a downer. Still, my thoughts turn to the woman beside me as our conversation continues. Shortly after, Val asks what entrance to turn in.
“Pull up to the main gate. They’ll let us in.”
I wave at the security guard.
“Hey, Mr. Hall. Go on through.”
Val pulls into the restricted area of the parking garage. When the car comes to a stop, I turn to her, searching for the right words.
She speaks first. “I’ll be praying for your meeting.”
I nod on instinct. Val’s been talking about prayer more and more.
She knows I don’t believe, but that hasn’t stopped her from praying.
Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of her petitioning on my behalf, but I know I won’t pray to a God who took away the only thing I love in this world.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later?”
“Shoot me a message and let me know the outcome. Or if you just need to talk, whatever,” she says softly.
“You’re the best, Val.”
She chuckles that same light, airy sound. “I haven’t done much.”
“Listening is worth more than I could ever say.”
“Then I’ll listen whenever you need me to.”
I thank her, then open the car door. Before I get out, I ask the one question I hate to ask. “We’re in front of B pole, right?”
“Uh . . .” She pauses. “No. C pole. Should I find B?”
“No, I know how to get where I’m going from here.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice is hesitant. Whether or not she’s concerned for my safety or concerned she’s offended me, I can’t tell.
I offer reassurance, nonetheless. “I’m good. Get back to the grind before I get you in trouble.”
“Call me after seven, ’kay?”
My grin comes fast and swift. This is the first time she’s told me to call her. Usually we stick to voice messages. “I will.”
I leave before I can do anything I regret. Though I’m not exactly sure what I’m feeling, I know I’m feeling something.
But what?
Whatever it is, it’ll have to remain a mystery until after this meeting.
I maneuver down the halls, making turns from memory and my practice of bumping into walls.
The smell changes, letting me know I’m in the locker room.
The fragrance pumping through the place keeps the space from smelling like sweaty men in a gym with no ventilation.
I walk the next ten steps and pause outside of the conference room the coaches use.
“Crank, right on time. Come on in,” Liam says.
I use my peripheral vision to find an empty seat. Pretty sure the one closest to the door is vacant. My tug on the chair is too powerful and knocks me in the shins. My face burns as if everyone’s staring at me. The hockey player who no longer uses his main sense to live and breathe hockey.
I place my hands on the table and make a show of looking around even though I’m not catching the details. “Guess it’s time to talk about the elephant.”
“Lay it on us.”
My mouth dries, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “There’s nothing that can be done. I’m out of the game.”