Lucas looked at his mom. She put out her hands and shrugged.
“I thought he’d be happy,” Lucas said.
“Maybe it’s the memory thing,” she said. “You know he gets frustrated when he can’t remember things, and even embarrassed.”
“I know I could probably come up with another subject,” Lucas said. “But he’s the subject I want.”
“The older you get,” she said, “the more set you get in your ways.” She lowered her voice. “Go easy with this tonight. He seems more tired than usual. Maybe that comeback took more out of him than you.”
Gramps was at one end of the couch in the living room. There was a game on the television set. Lucas plopped down at the other end.
“What are you watching there?” Lucas said.
“Michigan State against Syracuse,” he said. “Curious to see how State attacks that Syracuse zone.”
There was a time-out in the game, and a commercial appeared on the TV screen. Lucas’s mom called out from the kitchen, saying she was making a cup of tea and asking if Gramps wanted some. He politely declined.
“You know, Gramps,” Lucas said, “I didn’t mean to spring the idea of my paper on you. But I really think it will be fun.”
Gramps sighed.
“You know what’s another sign of knowing you’re really old?” he said. “Talking about old times more and more. I see it with my friends. I sometimes get the idea that they think the best things that will ever happen to them have already happened.”
“But you’re never like that,” Lucas said. “I just want to know more about stuff that happened to you.”
Gramps turned now. He smiled, but looked tired.
“Find a player you admire instead,” he said.
“But it won’t be somebody I admire as much as I do you,” Lucas said.
“I appreciate that,” he said. “But you know what else I appreciate with young people like you, son, especially when they look at sports? That you think the good old days are now. So learn up on LeBron, or Steph, or Kawhi. I’d help you with a paper like that, and maybe learn a few things about history myself.”
“But we could work on one about you together,” Lucas said. “You always say that history makes you understand the present better, and not just basketball history.”
“You understand me just fine already,” Gramps said.
He reached for the remote next to him. The game was back on. Gramps muted it.
“I’m a lot more interested in what you’re going to do next than in what I already did,” Gramps said. “You want to know who really keeps me going? You do. You’re the only one who can make me feel young, the way you and your teammates did in that game we played today.”
“Maybe if I do this paper, it will jog your memory on some cool things,” Lucas said.
“These knees of mine made me give up jogging a long time ago,” Gramps said.
“Mom says that I never give up,” Lucas said.
“Make an exception for me,” Gramps said. “It’s too late for me to get comfortable talking about myself. It’s another thing people my age do. They talk too much, and live too little.”
He stood up now. When he’d been seated for more than a few minutes, it took some effort. Sometimes it would even take him a couple tries to get off a couch or out of a chair. But he never asked for help, and didn’t now.
“I’ll see you at practice on Monday,” he said to Lucas. Then he raised his voice slightly and said, “Thanks for dinner, Julia.”
Lucas walked his grandfather to the front door. But as he opened it for him, Gramps suddenly pulled him into a bear hug.
“You had yourself a great day today,” he said to Lucas. “What you should be focusing on is that.”
“We had a great day,” Lucas said.
“Have it your way,” Gramps said. “Because all we’ve got is today.”
He pulled out of the hug and stared at Lucas, and then looked down at him.
“Love you,” Gramps said.
“Love you more,” Lucas said.
Gramps smiled.
“No,” he said, “you don’t.”
He closed the door. Lucas watched through the curtains of the front window as he limped toward his car. As he did, he felt his mom’s hand on his shoulder.
“I heard some of that,” she said.
“Did it make sense to you?” Lucas said.
“He’s a sweet, proud, shy, stubborn man,” she said. “I always kid with him that he thinks people his own age are older than him. Maybe he really doesn’t want to act like them.”
“I’m kind of stubborn too,” Lucas said.
“Wonder where you get it from?” his mom said.
“I want this to be a tribute to him,” Lucas said. “I’ve just got to figure out a way to make him see that.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want a tribute,” his mom said.
“Why not?” Lucas said.
“Because maybe he thinks it will sound like the kind of eulogy people give you when you’re gone,” she said.