“I’m tryin’,” he admitted.
Antwan caught that shift instantly. “Where you at anyway? It don’t sound like home.”
“I’m in Juniper Falls,” Zaire said. “Staying with this family for a little while.”
“A girl?” Antwan asked, way too fast.
“It ain’t like that,” Zaire shot back, even though the denial didn’t come out as quick as he meant it to.
Antwan chuckled. “If you gotta explain it, it’s already like that.”
Zaire shook his head, smiling. “You making assumptions, cuh.”
“I don’t assume,” Antwan said. “I recognize my son. And I know how you get when a woman actually see you for who you are, not for that golf shit.”
Zaire didn’t say anything.
Antwan cleared his throat. “Z… you sound lighter. That’s all I’m saying. When’s the last time you sounded like that?”
Zaire let the silence answer for him.
Antwan exhaled. “Exactly.”
Zaire shifted on the bed, staring up at the wooden beams overhead. “How you doing, Pops?”
“I’m good,” his father replied. “Staying out the way. Working in laundry. Mindin’ my business. But I been watching your clips.”
“Don’t watch that last tournament,” Zaire said quickly.
Antwan snorted. “Son please, I already watched it…twice.”
Zaire covered his face. “Damn.”
“You ain’t lose because you weak,” Antwan told him. “You lost because you tired. There’s a difference. And don’t let nobody turn tired into failure.”
Zaire’s eyes burned.
He didn’t expect them to.
“You hear me?” Antwan pressed.
“Yeah,” Zaire whispered.
“And you hear me on a deeper level, right?”
He nodded, even though his father couldn’t see it. “Yeah, Pops…I do.”
“That’s my son.” Antwan paused, voice warming even more. “I’m proud of you, Z. Not for golf…for still fightin’ to be yourself.”
Zaire swallowed hard. “I’m trying.”
“You always try,” his father said. “That’s why you gon’ win when it count. Not now…not when they watching, but when it counts.”
Zaire rubbed his eyes. “Yeah…”
Antwan shifted the phone. “So tell me more about this girl you not claiming.”
Zaire groaned. “Man?—”
