Chapter 46 Riggs
FORTY-SIX
RIGGS
It’s been a week since my dad’s funeral.
It’s also been a week since I’ve talked to Reagan, and that has only added to my pain, which wasn’t what I expected.
I thought giving myself space would allow me to grieve and not bring her down, but it isn’t that simple.
Every time I think about texting her or calling her, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I’ve seen her from a distance on campus a few times, and she is devastatingly beautiful.
Someone I don’t deserve to be around right now.
No.
Right now, I have to put all my focus on basketball.
Uncle Jake and I missed one game, and the guys struggled, barely beating a team they should have destroyed. Zee played a great game as the starting point guard, but the other team gave an incredible effort and nearly flawless execution of their game plan.
I can’t help but feel guilty for not being there for my teammates. In the past seven days, I have been able to run and lift weights every day, but stepping back on a court felt wrong.
Today will be my first practice back. My guys need me, and my dad would want me to be out there playing. So here I am, sitting in my car, trying to get the nerve to open the door and make the walk to Titan Gym, where my teammates and coaches are getting ready to start practice.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and slowly release it. It’s time, Son. The thought shoots through me like lightning, and it brings tears to my eyes and a small smile to my face. I know it’s my dad. If I can’t do this for me yet, I can do it for him.
By the time I get inside and change, everyone is already on the court warming up and stretching with our trainers. The last thing I want is to make a big deal about coming back, but being the last one on the court means all eyes are on me.
The first eyes I meet belong to my uncle and coach, who looks somewhat surprised to see me there. He gives me a hesitant smile that grows as I walk closer, and he can see I’m doing well enough to be here today.
As my feet hit the court, a sense of peace and calm comes over me that soothes my soul and heals a crack in my broken heart. Basketball has always been a significant part of me, and for the next two hours, I’m reminded why.
The guys are thrilled, cheering and jumping around as I join them in our normal warm-up. I take it all in, and I can’t help but smile at the realization that these guys are much more than teammates. They’re family.
Coach calls my name as I’m walking out of the locker room, motioning for me to follow him into his office. My body is beat after not having played basketball in over a week, but I do as he says and take a seat on the couch he has across from his desk.
“How are you after practicing for the first time?” One thing I always appreciate about my uncle is his blunt approach to things. He wastes no time getting to the heart of the matter, something he and my dad have in common. Well, had, I guess.
“I wasn’t sure if I was ready to play, to be honest. But as soon as things got going, it was like muscle memory and everything else disappeared. I could forget. Is that terrible to say?” I look back at him, hoping I don’t find disappointment.
A small smile sits on my uncle’s face as he takes in my words.
“No, Riggs, it’s not bad. Your dad wants you back in basketball.
We talked extensively about what to do when he passed.
I promised him I wouldn’t pressure you, but if you needed a push in the direction of the court, I’d give it.
But you found your way back on your own.
Your dad was certain you would. I was, too. ”
Tears I refuse to let fall start to cloud my eyes, so I look down at my feet until they’re gone. “Thank you, Jake. It's good to hear you talk about him. I’m so afraid to bring him up around my mom because she’s so fragile right now.”
“Riggs, have you thought that maybe talking about him with her would be healing? You miss him, and it’s helping you. Imagine how much she misses him. He’s not here physically, but that doesn’t mean you avoid his name.”
“You’re right. I’ll do my best.”
“Nephew, you’ve always been like a son to me.
I love you fiercely as a player, but especially as a person.
Unfortunately, you inherited the Hart stubborn streak that both your dad and I share.
I’m worried you’re taking on too much. You don’t need to do it all by yourself.
Let me help. Let Lane help. Your teammates are here for you, and so is Reagan. You don’t have to do this alone.”
His words hit harder than I expected them to, especially at the mention of Reagan.
I have typed out about a hundred texts to her, but I delete every single one before I get the nerve to send it.
I regretted what I did and said as soon as I heard the front door slam.
However, I stand by my decision not to bring her down or hurt her. She doesn’t need that in her life.
My teammates have reached out countless times, but I haven’t let them do anything either. Maybe the coach is right. I don’t have to shoulder it all, but I won’t burden Reagan. It’s not her job to fix me.
“I get that. It’s just always been basketball and family for me. I don’t know how to do it any other way.”
“Well, you can lean on basketball right now if that’s what you need. But let that at least include me and your teammates.”
“Okay, Coach. I hear you.” He’s right about that.
“Since we’re on the subject of basketball, how do you feel about playing the game in three days?” he asks, and excitement builds inside me, just as it always does at the thought of playing.
“I’m in,” I tell him, and I mean it.
Basketball was my life before Dad’s sickness, and it’s going to be that way again.