Chapter 21
CLAY
For the past week, Coach has been in a coma and I’ve been doing what Harlan asked.
I talk to the team.
I put on a good act.
I’m at the gym even earlier than usual, keeping an eagle eye on practice for when the assistant coaches screw up.
Today, while I’m trying to keep spirits up at practice, I see someone I don’t expect hovering at the edge of the tunnel.
James Parker stands straight as rod, hands in his pockets as we run drills.
The second I get rotated out, I grab a Gatorade and head for him.
“Clay. What a pleasure.”
From his voice, it’s clear my presence is anything but.
“You could’ve waited more than a day before giving away Coach’s job,” I say as I stop in front of him.
“A team needs a head coach. A conscious one too. The league is demanding like that,” he drawls. “My hands are tied.”
“Your hands are meddling.”
“You’re six-five, but you think you have better perspective than I do up there?” He nods to his office in the rafters of the building.
I pop the top on my drink. “I think you’re so far away you can’t tell a basketball from a breadbasket.” I chug half the bottle, enjoying the way his face contorts. “If you want to win a championship in this town, stay out of shit you don’t understand. That includes Nova.”
“Nova?” He cocks his head, genuinely surprised.
She told me about his threats.
“She didn’t leak any pictures of the wall, so stop trying to take advantage of her.”
He smiles, genuine delight edging into his expression. “When we brought you here, you were a killer. You’re losing your edge.”
“Fuck with me and we’ll find out.”
An outburst from the court makes me look up.
“Shit!”
“Fucking yes!”
The guys are gathered around a phone.
I jog over to them.
“Practice over?” I drawl.
“Clay! You made the all-star team,” Jay says.
I straighten, palming the ball in one hand. This past week, I’d all but forgotten about the timeline to name participants in the game.
The guys swarm me, throwing their arms around me and hitting me with their towels.
“I made it.” Pride rushes up through my chest.
When I look over, James is gone from the tunnel. I push him from my mind as Jay comes up beside me.
“Gentlemen, Mr. Clayton Wade has been selected for the all-star team! Let’s give him a round of applause!”
Amidst the whistles and cheers from the other players, I just stand there, relishing the moment. This is what I've worked so hard for—to be recognized as one of the best basketball players in the league.
For a moment, my worries about the future melt away.
“It’s a big deal!” Nova exclaims over the phone. Her enthusiasm lights me up.
“I’ve been a bunch of times,” I say into my car’s hands-free speaker.
“Doesn’t matter, Clay. You’re one in a million.”
“Twenty-four of three hundred,” I say because, what the hell? I’ve never been humble, might as well try it on for size.
“You’ll have to come home and celebrate.”
Home. The word hits me hard.
I never thought of my condo as home since I bought it a year ago, but hearing her say the word makes it sound appealing.
My home. Hers. Ours.
We’re in a strange in-between spot. With Coach in the hospital, we lean on one another, but we’re still rebuilding the trust between us.
Yesterday, when she came over, we watched a movie and she spent the night curled in my arms.
I want to tell her how I feel about her, but it’s a weird time to do it. Coach’s hospitalization hangs over all of us, and the mood is tense.
“Listen, I should stop in to see Coach on the way,” I say as I turn off the road and into a drive-through. “You don’t have to wait up.”
“I want to.”
Damn if I’m not grateful for that.
When I click off with Nova, I pull up to the ordering window.
“Lettuce, no tomato. Double pickles. Triple hot sauce.”
“Triple?” the woman asks, sounding startled.
“Yeah.”
I take the paper bags to the hospital, navigating through the halls with my hands full.
I enter Coach's room, settle into the chair that barely holds me, and pull out the dinners.
“Jay’s thumb is bugging him on his threes, but he won’t admit it. I’m trying to take away some of his reps without him noticing, which is hard as fuck. Atlas’s free throws are up ten percent. He draws more fouls, we might get somewhere this year.”
I bite into my burger, chewing and swallowing before I go through my mental notes on every other player on the Kodiaks.
Who knows if Coach can hear me, but I wouldn’t put it past him.
And when he wakes up, he’s going to be pissed if he’s out of the loop.
The phone rings, the shrill sound too loud in this place. I grab it. Harlan.
“I understand you’re going to the all-star game.”
“I understand you might be divorced by next week.”
Nova told me about her sister finding out—that we were together, and that Harlan kept it from her.
He sighs. “Mari’s upset. She’ll get over it.”
“That what happens when you fight?”
“I’m not sure. We don’t usually fight.”
Coach’s breathing is even. His eyelids are paper-thin. He’s always been hard and tough, but now he looks fragile.
Fragile things don’t last in this world.
“LA put together a solid offer. They called me with it this morning.” Harlan’s words cut into my thoughts.
“I wasn’t sure you’d still be pursuing that given everything going on.”
“My responsibility is to this team, and your stock is rising. The more you’re worth, the more we can get back for you.”
I expect to feel anticipation. Instead, the emotions swirling are complicated.
LA is still the top team in the West. But Nova’s here. Coach is here. The guys I’ve gotten closer to this year, whether I meant to or not… I’d be leaving them.
“This is what you wanted,” he reminds me. “Their GM’s going to have it over to me in writing in a couple of days.”
I clear my throat. “Let’s talk about it after this weekend.”
He’s quiet for a minute. “We’ll talk after.”
I shift back in my chair and hang up.
Coach’s hearing was always eerily accurate. He could decipher a muttered comment from across the gym.
“This what you want?” I ask him. “Team of my dreams is calling, and I’m busy bringing you takeout.”
Coach is silent, the only sound the machines beeping softly.
“I mean it. You’re not here to stop me, I might do something I regret.” I nudge his calf with my toe and nod at his dinner, still wrapped. “Not usually a two burger guy, but that could change today.”
In college during Final Four, Coach was coaching another team, and he saw I was fucked up. He told me to get in his car, and I did. We stopped for fast food, and I told him about my broken heart.
We kept in touch. He checked in on me over the years.
Let me lean on him more than once.
I cut him down because I was self-centered and impatient.
You can lean on me, I want to say. Just wake the fuck up.
I think about the time back in preseason when we were supposed to sing the team song and I refused.
I look around, seeing the lights click off on the floor as the staff prepare for the overnight shift. At the station across the hall, one of the nurses is humming under her breath.
“You want me to do it? Fine. I’ll do it. But you tell Jay about this, I’ll end you.”
I lower my voice and sing.