The ride to the arena is filled with small talk about the morning with their families, and I’m grateful for the distraction. While I appreciate Lex’s phone call, it has my nerves on edge.
The distraction continues as soon as I enter the arena, caught in conversation with one corporate sponsor to another. The pregame meeting is uneventful, and no one mentions trading Vince. Thankfully, someone decided to keep the peace on Christmas Day.
Before heading to the corporate lunch, I stop by to see the children interacting with the LA Sharks’ Santa Claus and watching happy faces as they open their presents. My chest expands knowing we are giving back, and I am grateful to their families for giving us their time on a specialday to support our team. We ensure every child receives a free gift and basketball apparel.
I laugh, finally finding some joy in my heart, hearing the children scream excitedly upon seeing their gifts. Giving is a part of my job I love, and I will always endorse the funding. The fans’ appreciation is worth every dollar.
I head down to the locker room to catch the end of Coach Mathew’s speech. When he finishes, I clap and watch them shout to pump themselves up. Then I join them, place my hand in the center with the players’ larger hands, and yell, “Grateful.”
Before the players exit the tunnel, I walk ahead, my stiletto heels tapping with every step on the concrete. Today, I take a seat beside my brothers.
“Are the players ready?”
I glance up at Franklin’s dark eyes. “Always.” He nods and diverts his attention back to the court, flashing lights, and loud music.
“The answer to your other question is no.”
“What?”
“No,” I snap.
His gaze flicks over my serious face. “I know. It’s why I never brought it up.”
I nod, then turn back to the court and clap loudly as our team runs out onto the court. We didn’t mention Brandon’s name, and yet, my mind burns with memories.
Not so long ago, he was playing in the Christmas Day game alongside Byron.
They were a dynamic pair.
Those days are gone.
The Chicago Stingers are not playing on Christmas Day.
What is he doing? Who is he spending it with? Did he fly home for a brief vacation to be with his family in South Australia?
His friends’ names slip through my thoughts as I recollect the time he introduced me to his hometown friends. It turned into a romantic holiday rather than one as friends.
My lips tingle, remembering our first passionate kiss.
The crowd’s roar brings me back to the present, and I clap, cheering as my brother scores the first goal.
8
BRANDON
The first Christmas—Iwas scared to spend it alone. I didn’t know if I could do it. The following year, the loneliness had already settled in and remained, so it didn’t affect me as much as it did the first time.
Looking down at the bustling street below, I imagine where people are going, inventing stories of their lives for amusement. It has to be better than mine.
My iPad emits the familiar, awkward chime of a video call, snapping me out of my daydream. Realizing I’ve lost track of time, I rush over and slide into the chair, propping the iPad on the table just as my mother’s warm, caring face fills the screen.
“Hey. Merry Christmas,” I say excitedly.
My mother smiles. “Merry Christmas, love. Are you doing anything special today?”
Having the freedom to go wherever you want or buy whatever you want doesn’t mean you want to, especially if itdoesn’t give you joy. I’m most comfortable relaxing in my apartment, wearing sweats and a T-shirt.
“It’s a regular day, Mum. I’ll review a game. Do a weight session. Practice on my own, then go for an ice bath. I have supper prepared in the fridge. Maybe have a drink of wine, game a little, nothing special.” I adjust my iPad on the dining table and scratch my head.
