Chapter 3 #2
Tisha scraped the plates off into the trash, then faced Melinda. “What are you saying?”
“Chase isn’t with us anymore. You’ve come to Redemption for a second chance, and we love that you’re here. But maybe it’s time to let your heart open a little too.”
A butter knife slipped from her hand, then clattered on the floor. “I-I don’t want anyone else but Chase.”
“I understand that.” Melinda retrieved the knife and tucked it into the dishwasher. “But that little girl in there might need a daddy. As much as you’re trying to keep Chase alive, he’s not here anymore.”
Tisha stared at her. “Are you suggesting—”
Melinda held up her hand. “All I’m saying is that God’s in charge, and it’s okay for you to move on.”
“No, I’m not going to do that. I love Chase and there will never be anyone else.
” Tisha turned back to the table to clear the rest of the plates, but part of her didn’t want to admit that she’d been tempted to flirt with Ethan.
Their banter, her determination to find his ideal pie flavor—it was kind of embarrassing knowing that she’d been enjoying her time with him while their kids were duking it out on the playground.
She hadn’t come here to fall in love. Stories about Chase, old family photos, videos—so what if there were McGuires in the background?
She wanted Sadie to know that this town had meant everything to Chase, and she had promised her husband that Sadie would have the childhood he’d intended for her.
And now, more than ever, she had to double down on her determination.
No matter how handsome Ethan McGuire looked when he took his seat in the café.
Wow, okay. So that meeting with Aaron had not been his finest moment.
Ethan bounced the basketball on the floor in the shed, savoring the familiar sound of the parquet floor squeaking under his sneakers.
He launched the ball, loving the feel of the worn nubs as it brushed his fingertips.
It sailed through the air, clanged off the rim.
Man, he couldn’t make a basket for anything tonight.
Thoughts of Tisha’s piercing blue eyes and her proud smile as she set a slice of jumbleberry pie in front of him contrasted sharply with her anger as she stood in the doorway of Aaron’s office.
Shame had flickered in Brody’s eyes when he dipped his head, embarrassed that he had messed up saying Sadie’s name.
It didn’t matter what had happened between himself and Tisha.
What mattered was his son and getting to the bottom of his issues at school.
The ball rolled to a stop beside Brody, who was sitting against the wall, absentmindedly rolling his skateboard back and forth with one hand while he watched a video on Ethan’s iPad.
“Hey, bud. Wanna come play ball?”
“In a minute.” Brody didn’t even look up from the screen.
Ethan sighed. Okay, yeah, he wasn’t proud of how he’d walked out of the school today, except part of him was.
Tisha might have disagreed with his old-school ideas, but extra chores were the things that he and Luke and Chase had to do when they got in trouble back in the day.
Sitting around talking about their big feelings?
Blech. No, thanks. He crossed the court and scooped up the basketball, peeking at the screen. “What are you watching?”
“I want to build a skateboard ramp.”
Ethan opened his mouth to protest.
“Check it out. This video makes it look easy.”
Ethan wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the hem of his faded Redemption High School T-shirt. “Uh-huh, and where do you want to build that?”
“In here, obviously. There’s too much snow and ice outside.”
“Right.” He scooped up the ball. “Come on, come shoot with me.”
“Dad, I don’t really like basketball.”
“I know, but I do, and I’m trying to spend some time with you. Would you rather play badminton? Or I can go find Grandpa. He’ll play Sorry! with us, but I promise we’ll lose. Grandpa’s the Sorry! champion around here.”
Brody shook his head. “I don’t feel like losing. I had enough of that today.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” Ethan walked back onto the court, stepped inside the key, then put up an easy shot. The ball swished through the net. Finally.
When he grabbed the ball and turned around, Brody had joined him.
He gently sent the ball to Brody in a bounce pass.
Brody caught it, dribbled a few times. Huh.
So he did know what to do with a basketball.
Brody stared up at the rim, his little brow furrowed, paused, bent his knees slightly, and launched a shot.
“Whoa!” Ethan stared. The kid had perfect form. The ball arced through the air, bounced off the center of the square on the backboard, and dropped effortlessly through the net.
“Nice shot, kiddo. That didn’t look like somebody who doesn’t like basketball.”
Brody shrugged. “When you were away working, Mom would take me down to the park. Sometimes the skateboard half-pipe was too crowded, or if the kids there were mean to me, she’d grab a basketball instead.”
“Kids were mean to you?” Ethan picked up the ball and wedged it against his hip as Brody shrugged.
“Lots of times. Don’t worry, I didn’t push anybody or get in any fights.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” Adeline would’ve told him about that, right?
“So Mom would—she always had a basketball in her trunk. She’d take me over to the courts and we’d shoot around. It was fun. She was good at it.”
“Huh.” Ethan retrieved his water bottle from the spot where he’d tucked it behind the basketball stand.
“Hey, Dad, watch this. I’m gonna take another shot.”
“All right.” Ethan passed him the ball, then took a long sip of his water.
Brody snatched it, then launched another easy shot from inside the key. He was very close to the basket, but it was a full regulation-height rim. The ball slid through the hoop with a swish.
Not bad for an eight-year-old.
“So, what do you like about skateboarding?”
“It’s fun, and kind of dangerous.” Brody collected the ball, dribbled a couple of times, and then handed it back to Ethan.
“And basketball’s…what?”
“It’s fine, I guess.” He glanced down, squeaking the toe of his shoe on the court a few times.
“But what do you not want to say?”
“I don’t really get the strategy. Being on a team looks fun, but I don’t know. I’m just not into it.”
“I get it.” Ethan tossed up an easy shot. Thankfully, it went in. The ball bounced away. Brody moved to go get it for him.
“Wait, hold up, Son. Is there anything you want to say about what happened today?”
Brody shook his head. “Anything you want to say?”
Ethan sighed. “I, uh, feel like I set a bad example walking out like that.”
“Yeah, Mr. Price is probably gonna tell you that was disrespectful.”
“You’re right. He probably will. So, what happened with Sadie? I mean, does her side of the story match up with yours? Why did you call her the wrong name? Were you trying to tease her?”
“No,” Brody said, looking horrified. “I didn’t know that was her name. And what’s wrong with Daisy? I’ve met people named Daisy before.”
“Well, her name’s Sadie, and I guess she doesn’t like it when people get it wrong.”
“It happens though. I do it a lot, actually.” Brody stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.
The hair on the back of Ethan’s neck prickled. “You do what?”
“Mix up my letters.” Brody looked away.
Ethan moved closer and sank down on his heels. “Brody, are you having a tough time at school?”
Brody wouldn’t look at him. Ethan reached out and gently placed his hand on his shoulder, panic arcing through him. Adeline had tried to talk to him about this more than once, and Ethan had always conveniently left it up to her to handle. His heart hammered in his chest. “Brody, can you read?”
Brody’s chin wobbled. He shook his head slowly, and a tear tracked down his cheek. He angrily swiped it away.
“Oh, bud, come here.” He opened his arms, and Brody ran into his embrace, his body trembling. Shame washed over him—a rogue wave of embarrassment and regret. What kind of a dad didn’t know that his eight-year-old couldn’t read?
“It’s all right. I love you, bud.” He just held him tight and let him cry. “We’re going to get this figured out. I promise. I’m going to fix this.”
Brody pulled away, wiping away the tears. “You can’t fix it. That’s the thing. You just can’t.”
He turned and kicked the ball away. Ethan stood, finding Luke and Aaron Price standing in the doorway. When did they come in?
“Hey. How about you come over to the woodshop with me and we, uh, take a look at what’s stashed in there?” Luke said. “I bet I’ve got pretty much everything we need to build you a ramp.”
“A ramp? Really, Luke?” Ethan braced his hands on his hips. “How’d you know he wanted one?”
“Because he’s been talking about it for a week,” Luke said.
“Do you mean it?” Brody sniffed and looked at Ethan. “You said no skateboarding in here.”
Ethan hesitated. “Why don’t you go with Uncle Luke? If anybody can build you a skateboard ramp, it’s him. Let me talk to Mr. Price, okay?”
Brody gave Aaron a sidelong glance. “Am I in trouble?”
Aaron smiled. “No. You’re not the McGuire I came to speak to about their behavior.”
“Good. See you later, Mr. Price.”
Aaron held out his hand, and Brody slapped it, then followed his uncle out of the shed. Aaron walked across the court, retrieved the ball, and dribbled it slowly as he moved toward the basket. When he got to Ethan, he picked up the ball.
“How about a quick game of H-O-R-S-E? You first.”
“I’m a little tired for H-O-R-S-E, but I’ll take you on in a game of P-I-G.” Ethan shrugged, went to the top of the key, took a shot, swished. “So, what brings you by?”
“Seriously, man? I knew you were too stubborn to come back to the school, so I came to you.” Aaron draped his jacket over the base of the hoop. He wore a long-sleeve shirt under a fleece vest, paired with black joggers and trendy basketball shoes.
Ethan scooped up the ball. “Yeah. That’s fair.”
“What happened?”