Chapter 9 #2
“I did. I invited her and Sadie to come to our game today, but they have a lot of pies to make.”
“Oh. All right.” Brody shrugged. “That’s cool.”
Laughter in the hallway outside the gym filtered in as parents and kids came in talking, wearing their winter coats and hats and carrying water bottles.
The next thirty minutes flew by as Ethan made sure all the kids had their T-shirts with the number screen-printed on the back and the hardware store’s logo on the front.
Derek and Tammy had done a great job getting local businesses to sponsor the teams.
Ethan scanned the roster on his phone, then did a quick head count.
Twelve players, including Brody, was kind of a lot.
He’d make it work though. Grant had sent him a PDF with a guide to make sure every kid had close to equal playing time.
His assistant coach, Nicholas, rounded the kids up.
Brody took his seat on the last folding chair at the end of the row, and Ethan sank down beside him, putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, I know you’re not super excited to be here, but I might need you to sub in. We haven’t practiced very much, and your teammates will probably get tired.”
Brody looked away, quirking his mouth to one side. He nodded finally. “I can do that.”
“Great. You want to jump up? Put your hand in the huddle?”
Brody nodded, then followed him toward the players huddled together near the sideline.
“Hello, Ninja Narwhals!” Ethan could hardly say the team name they’d voted on without laughing. “Welcome to your first game. I’m so glad you’re here. Remember, pass the ball, look for the open shot, just like we talked about in practice. Everybody hustle and let’s have fun.”
“Teamwork on three,” Nicholas said.
They all piled their hands in. “One, two, three. Teamwork!” they yelled.
Ethan picked out his starting five, and the high school kids who were volunteering as refs got the game started.
He was tempted to pace the sideline just like his coach had done in high school, but he sat down instead.
Nicholas claimed the seat beside him. They didn’t know each other really, but Ethan didn’t have anybody else in mind to coach with, and he’d grown up playing ball with the boy’s dad.
“Nicholas, what do you think? Man-to-man defense or zone?”
The kids lined up for the jump ball. “We’ll be lucky if they dribble without traveling. And let’s hope they can score at least one basket.”
“Keeping our expectations low, then. That’s probably wise.
” A few minutes into the game, three players had already traveled, dribbled the ball off their feet, and shot two air balls.
But the errors were equally spread out across both teams, so Ethan couldn’t really complain.
They were only going to play four six-minute quarters, which was probably for the best. As the minutes rolled on and they approached the halftime break, the game was still tied two to two.
At halftime, they sat on the floor behind the bench, faces flushed and sweaty. They all looked up at him expectantly. He didn’t know what to say; he was used to winning no matter what. Thankfully, Nicholas had a few pointers to share.
“You guys are doing great.” He clapped his hands. “We’re super proud of you. Right, Coach?”
He pinned Ethan with a long look.
“Absolutely.” Ethan cleared his throat. “Super proud.”
One little girl was picking at the icon on the side of her sneaker.
Her friend was studying the ends of her ponytail.
Two boys were poking each other and laughing.
Brody sat crisscross style, his chin resting on his folded hands, eyes on Nicholas.
At least somebody was paying attention. The ref blew a whistle, summoning the team to come back to the court.
Ethan sat on the bench, one knee bouncing up and down.
The other team scored one basket in the third quarter, putting the Narwhals down four to two.
The kids couldn’t seem to remember almost anything they’d practiced, but they sure did like to dribble and dribble and dribble some more.
After the fifth traveling call, Ethan was about to come out of his chair. “What is even happening right now?”
“It’s only our first game,” Nicholas said. “Plus it’s not over yet.”
With two minutes on the clock, Ethan leaned down the bench. “Brody, I need you to sub in.”
Brody’s eyes grew wide. “Okay.” He stood and walked slowly toward his dad.
“I want you to go in for Xander.” Ethan put his hand on Brody’s shoulder. “Time’s almost up, so try your best to shoot a basket just one time. Can you do that?”
“I guess so, Dad.”
Brody subbed in, and the next time their team had the ball, Sierra dribbled down the court and passed it to Brody. He dribbled twice, his tongue tucked in the corner of his mouth, and stopped. The opposing team waved their hands in the air—a blur of purple.
“Come on. Come on.” Brody seemed to take forever. “Come on, shoot the ball!”
With near-perfect form, Brody launched the ball toward the basket. It hit the center of the backboard and dropped through the net. Ethan shot to his feet, jumping up and down. “Brody, that was brilliant!”
Brody mirrored Ethan’s pose, both arms thrust in the air.
“Easy, Coach, don’t run out on the court.” Nicholas tugged on the hem of Ethan’s shirt.
While the other team inbounded the ball, Ethan turned around and scanned the crowd.
He really wanted to share this moment with Tisha, but she’d stayed true to her word and hadn’t come by.
He smiled at his mom, and she and his dad waved.
Luke, Tate, and Megan were all there too.
They each clapped and gave him a thumbs-up.
Okay, so it was only seven- and eight-year-old rec-league basketball, but it was Brody’s first basket—at least the first one he’d ever seen in a live game.
Sierra ended up scoring a basket with only ten seconds left in the game.
After lots of high fives and handshakes, Ethan and Nicholas corralled the kids.
A mom handed out apple slices. Brody took the bag but didn’t eat them.
After everyone had left, they met their family at the end of the bleachers.
“Great job, buddy.” Megan pulled Brody into a tight hug. “That was amazing.”
“Thanks.” Brody squirmed out of her embrace. “Grandma, did you bring any drinks?”
“You just had a juice box, pal.” Luke ruffled Brody’s sweaty hair. “Still thirsty?”
Brody nodded. “Hungry too.”
“Way to go, Coach.” Tate clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “It was touch and go there toward the end.”
“Yep. They kept us on the edge of our chairs, didn’t they?” Ethan couldn’t stop grinning.
“Great job, Brody.” Tate bumped Brody’s fist. “You and Sierra made a great team.”
Brody glowed under everyone’s praise as they headed out to the truck.
“Hey, let’s go by the café and celebrate with pie,” Ethan said.
“All right,” Brody said, clicking his seatbelt into place. “Do you think Sadie’s there?”
“Probably. She likes to help make pies, right?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
Ethan turned on the radio and sang along to a popular song while Brody nibbled on his apple slices and drank the rest of his water. But when they pulled up in front of the café, the Closed sign filled the window.
“Oh man,” Brody said. “Why are they closed on a Saturday?”
“I don’t know.” Ethan pulled out his phone and texted Tisha.
Ethan
Hey, Brody and I won our first game. We came by to celebrate with pie. Looks like you guys are closed?
He sent the message with a whoosh. “Let’s see if she answers.”
Three dots bounced on the screen, stopped, bounced again, and then stopped.
“Oh, come on,” he growled.
“What’s the matter?”
“The message is taking forever to get here.”
The bubble filled the screen.
Tisha
Come to the front door. I’ll let you in. We’ve got pie.
“Oh, she’s going to let us come in.”
They climbed out of the truck and bounded toward the front door. Tisha met them on the other side, and the smell of paint fumes greeted them.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re closed today. Tom and Melinda wanted to get the ceiling painted before the festival, and today was the day the painters were available.” She gestured to a ladder and a tarp in the middle of the dining room. “They took a late lunch break, though, so it’s just me and Sadie here.”
“Hi, Brody.” Sadie came out of the kitchen, flour on her face and sprinkled down the front of her apron.
“Hey. What are you making?”
“Pie. Lots and lots of pie,” Sadie said. “Mama, can I take a break?”
“Sure.” Tisha pointed to a booth. “Brody, you and Sadie want to hang out there? I’ll bring you a snack. She’s got some markers and a coloring page.”
“All right.” Brody followed Sadie. “Sadie, guess what! We won our game.”
“Oh good. Was it fun?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
While Sadie handed Brody markers and a coloring page, Ethan sat down at the counter.
“Congrats on your win,” Tisha said. “Want some water or coffee? I just brewed a pot for myself.”
“Water’s fine, thanks.” He grinned. “Aren’t you going to try to guess what kind of pie I need? Or do you have a special flavor for game-day wins?”
Shrugging, she set a glass of water on the counter in front of him. “Whatever flavor you want.”
Whoa. That wasn’t like her. He ducked his head, trying to meet her eyes. “Hey, what’s going on? What’s the matter?”
She hesitated, then let out a sigh and looked away. “Here’s the thing. Chase loved flying.” Her voice lower, she gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. “Sometimes I think he loved it more than me.”
Her words were like a fist to his heart. “I don’t believe that’s true.”
“There were so many times he went off on some adventure and I didn’t say anything about how scared I was.
Especially the last time. I hate that I didn’t tell him I didn’t want him to take that trip.
I was filled with dread the whole time, and of course it ended in the worst possible outcome—exactly what I feared.
” Her voice caught. “But what was I supposed to say? I mean, he was filling in for someone else who was in a bind. He was doing what he thought God had called him to do. So how selfish am I to complain about…?”
She trailed off, her expression twisting.
Poor thing. She’d really wrestled with this. He glanced at her hands, still gripping the counter. His breath hitched. She’d taken off her rings.
He cleared his throat, then reached for his glass of water. “That’s a heavy load to carry. And for what it’s worth, I don’t expect you to live like that. Thank you for trusting me with the truth. It means a lot.”
Her gaze slid to meet his, those stunning blue eyes searching his face. Then she straightened and gestured over her shoulder. “Let me go check and see which flavors we have in the back.”
“Tisha, wait. I—”
“I’ll just be a minute.” Her voice was too bright, too rushed, as she pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
He glanced at the kids sitting in the booth. They were chatting away and looked like they were coloring without any issues.
Tisha wasn’t checking on pie.
She was running.
And he wasn’t about to let her.