Three Weeks Later
I stop in the middle of campus and sit on the ledge of the fountain that is at the heart of the quad. The hot concrete scalds my legs, but it can’t dim my excitement for this day. Not the one hundred and five temp that makes breathing difficult or the tiny bit of loneliness I’m not admitting to since Zeke left.
My summer classes started today and being at Valley U as a real student is everything I’d ever dreamed of. No, it’s more. I’m taking an art class and a marketing class, trying to broaden my horizons with some classes in subjects I’ve always enjoyed but not considered as a career.
I’m going to finish up my business degree since I’m so close, but I’m leaning toward switching to art as my major. Or marketing. Clearly, I’m still undecided.
Blair sent a text that she and Vanessa are at The White House swimming, so instead of going home to get ready for work, I ride my bike there.
“I thought you didn’t live here anymore,” I tease Wes as I walk out to the pool.
“I’ve got a standing invitation as long as I bring booze or girls when I come.” He lifts the beer in his hand and points to Blair. “I brought both.”
Joel agrees with him, which earns an eye roll from Katrina. He’s all talk, though, the way he looks at her and her son, it’s clear they are it for him.
I slip off my shoes and sit by the pool, dipping my feet into the cool water. “Oh man, that feels great. It’s so freaking hot today.”
Wes takes a seat next to me and offers me a beer.
“Thanks.”
The cold liquid helps to bring my body temp back down. I have to be at work in an hour, so I sip slowly knowing it’ll be my only one.
“Talked to Zeke?”
Heat that is not entirely the sun’s fault blooms in my cheeks. “Yeah. He’s in Illinois visiting his mom and extended family and tomorrow he flies to LA.”
In truth, we’ve talked every day either by text or an actual phone conversation, and one video call from his hotel room in Denver that involved lotion as lube and a memory that is forever burned into my brain. Watching a guy get himself off is seriously hot.
“Joel’s family is hosting the draft party next week. It’ll be good to see him.”
“They are?” I’m a little hurt that in all our conversations, he didn’t think to tell me.
“Oh shit. I’m not sure I was supposed to tell you that.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “Too late now, I guess. Act surprised when he tells you.”
“I thought the draft was in New York?”
“It is, but you know Zeke isn’t much for the spotlight unless he’s on the court, so he wanted something a little more low key. I have a feeling if Joel’s family hadn’t offered, he would have watched the draft from his phone while practicing somewhere.”
I have so many questions I want to ask, but Blair swims up to the side and the conversation turns to their nightly plans.
“I should go,” I tell them. “I need to change before work. Is it cool if I use Zeke’s old room?” I motion behind me.
With their approval, I set off toward Zeke’s room. The door is closed and when I open it and step inside, his scent wraps around me. I sit on his unmade bed, the bare mattress a reminder that he’s really gone and lie back and fish my phone out of my pocket.
Me: I’m in your room. It still smells like you.
Zeke: Good. Stay right where you are. I’ll be there next week.
Me: So I’ve heard. When do you get in?
Zeke: Wednesday night. Be there at say, eight o’clock?
Me: With bells on.
Zeke: Better be the only thing you have on.
Zeke
“Who are you texting and is that a smile on your face?” My mom places the casserole dish in the middle of our kitchen table at precisely six o’clock. It’s been the same way my entire life. Always exactly at six.
“Just a friend from Valley.”
“You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” She takes a seat across from me with two plates and pushes one in front of me.
I spoon two large servings of her chicken surprise casserole onto my plate, thankful I don’t have to count calories anymore and pick up my fork before I answer her. “It’s not really like that.”
“Don’t tell me you’re stringing some girl around with that whole friends with benefits crap.”
“Mooom.”
“I’m serious. I raised you better than that.”
“It’s just complicated. She’s still at Valley and I don’t know where I’m going to end up yet.”
“So you and Gabby aren’t going to try long-distance?”
I choke around the mouthful of chicken and it’s the longest thirty seconds ever as I chug water and compose myself, my mother looking on with a smug smile. “How do you know about Gabby?”
“Instagram, of course.”
“You’re on Instagram?”
She rolls her eyes. “You say that like I’m a hundred years old. She seems sweet. How did you meet her?”
“She’s Wes’ girl’s best friend.”
“Ah, how is Wes? I always liked him.”
Thankful for the topic change, I smile. “He’s good. He’s going to be coaching at Valley next year and he seems excited about that.”
We eat in silence for several minutes before I drop my fork to my plate and prepare to ask my mother the question that’s been plaguing me for weeks. “Do you think Dad had it right that you can’t have a family and a successful career?”
“Whatever made you think he believed that?”
“I heard him. The day he left, you two were arguing and he said he needed to move closer to where the jobs were and that if he wanted to make it big, he couldn’t be worrying about getting home to have dinner with us at six every night.” I remember every detail of that night. The blue polo shirt he wore, the goatee he was sporting, and the devastated look on my mother’s face.
“I didn’t know you heard that. I’m sorry that you did. I can’t imagine what you must have thought all these years.”
“Well, he wasn’t wrong. He did become successful and if I’ve learned anything the past few years, it’s that it takes a lot of hours and sacrifices to have that kind of success. I know you managed it both, but you turned down better jobs so you could be here for me at night, drive me back and forth to practices and games.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“So, you either sacrifice career or family?”
“It’s not a sacrifice, honey, it’s prioritizing what’s important to you.”
I mull that over wondering if it’s that simple. Did my dad just not give a shit? Was it so easy to put career first because he didn’t love me like my mom does?
“Do you think Dad would have been as successful if he’d stayed here with us and we’d been a real family?”
“I don’t know. It would have been harder, probably, but I don’t think your dad believed that it was a choice between career and family any more than I do.”
“Why do you say that?”
She sighs and a flash of sadness crosses her face. This trip down memory lane is hard for her, and I regret putting her through it again, but I have to know if I’ve had it all wrong.
“I quit blaming myself.” I swallow, throat thick with emotion, and meet her eyes. “Or you for him leaving a long time ago, so whatever you have to say doesn’t matter. I just need to know.”
Reaching across the table, she grabs my hand and squeezes. “Because he never once asked me to come with him.”
“Would you have?”
“I can’t say for sure, but when he started looking for jobs, it was all about him and what he wanted and needed. It was never a discussion of finding a new school for you or a job for me, it was all about him and what he needed to do. You deserved a father that showed you how to have both because I believe it is possible, don’t you? Look where you are, about to be drafted to the NBA and you’ve got family.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been bad about calling and coming to see you since I went to college. I’ll try and do a better job once I get settled.”
“Good, I won’t have to get my updates from social media, but I was talking about your teammates. They’ve always been like a family to you.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I love you. I’d do anything for you, but I don’t look back on my life and think of it as a sacrifice. A job is just a job. The people in your life are what makes it worth living. So, tell me about the rest of the guys. How’s Nathan doing?”
I fill my mom in on all the rest of my roommates as we eat and then clean up the kitchen. It’s late by the time I lie down on my childhood bed surrounded by trophies and ribbons from every sporting event I ever participated in, posters of Magic Johnson and Kobe Bryant, and newspaper clippings with my name splashed across the headline. After I went to college, my mom made a point to keep it exactly like it was. Even after the first year when I only came home once, she insisted it didn’t matter how often I used it, just that it was here when I did.
I used to think when I made it to the NBA, I’d surprise her with a brand-new fancy-ass house or car, but I think she might kick my ass if I do that. Instead, I think I’ll just add a big chunk of change to her bank account. I’m finally going to be able to repay her for not being as selfish as my father and for just… everything.