Walker smiles. “You’re a natural at this. I remember when that was you out there.”
“Those were the days,” I say. “I played every sport that would keep me out of the house.”
One of the boys trips over his own feet and pops back up laughing. Another kid makes his shot, and everyone cheers like he won a championship. The energy in the gym is good and fun. This was how it was for me as a kid. This gym and this school were a safe haven for me when home wasn’t a good place anymore. I want this to be a fun escape for these kids if they need it. A place to have fun and blow off steam. Abully-free environment. So far, we haven’t had any issues, and we’re going to keep it that way.
Walker watches me for a minute. “You look happy, man.”
I nod. “I am.”
The boys start a dribbling drill, balls pounding the floor in uneven rhythm. Owen glances over at me between reps, checking in like he always does. I give him a thumbs up.
Walker lowers his voice. “So how are all the wedding plans coming along?”
“I heard you and Violet have been doing a lot for us, and I wanted to thank you. Really, I think you’re doing so much, and I really appreciate you guys.”
He shrugs. “It’s what family does, Ollie.”
What family does. That means more to me than he’ll know. Walker is a stand-up guy. He’s always been there for me. Front row seat with Mack at my graduation from the fire academy. At my high school graduation. He’s always been there.
I exhale. “I want to convince her to make it real by the reception.”
His eyebrows lift, but he doesn’t look surprised.
“I want that night to be special for her,” I say. “I want it to be incredible. I want her to feel like it’s real. Like it’s all for her. Because it is, I love her so much.”
Walker’s gaze softens as he watches Owen laugh when another kid loses control of the ball. “You gotta get to work, Ollie. It’s time to unravel all those years of friendship and finally make her your wife.”
I swallow. “I’m up for the challenge.”
And I am. I have been for years now.
He nods. “It’s gonna be the most important thing you ever do.”
The boys rotate stations. Free throws again. Owen wipes his forehead with his sleeve and sinks another one. He gives a highfive to another teammate. Pride hits me hard and fast in the chest. I’m not just fighting for her, I’m fighting for him, too, because life without them isn’t a life.
Walker’s quiet for a beat. Then he says, “I remember when Grace Murphy died. It left a crater-sized hole in this town. Mack was three. And we all went to her funeral, the whole town.”
My chest tightens at the memory. Grace Murphy was a woman Sully never deserved. She fought cancer alone with a baby and a teenage daughter. She was the mother any kid would have been lucky to have. I loved Grace Murphy, too. My mother was friends with her because Grace was friends with everyone. She baked you banana bread and brought you a meal if you had a baby. She cheered for me at my middle school and high school games. She was the heartbeat of this town. I know when she died, I was thinking what a lot of other people were probably thinking as well. Why couldn’t it have been Sully, instead? Sully did nothing for anyone, and he was a real jerk. Everyone knew it then and knows it now. Why do good people have to die? It’s not fair.
“You know who didn’t go?” he asks, igniting anger that lives deep down.
I close my eyes for half a second. “Sully.”
I see it like it’s happening again. The front row of the church. Poppy was holding Owen, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook. Owen was only a baby and slept through the whole thing. She refused to put him down. Maggie on one side. Walker and me right there on the other side of her. The pews were packed. People standing in the back and around the front entrance to the church. The gravesite burial was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. I remember there was a double rainbow when we left the cemetery. Poppy said it was a sign that everything would be okay.
The town showed up, and from that day forward, we all sat with her. No matter where she went, what she did. Her and Owen became our family. We absorbed them into ours because that’s what you do when you love people. You take care of them.
Walker exhales. “She didn’t just lose her mom. She lost her safety net. And you’ve been part of what caught her. You’ve always been there, Ollie. They need you, and I think you need them.”
My breath catches, and I nod, eyes on Owen as he laughs at something and makes another free throw, high-fiving another player. I do need them—more than they know.
Walker claps my shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
The whistle blows. Practice wraps up in a mess of high fives and noise. Owen runs over and gives me a high five.
“Did you see that shot?” he asks.
“I saw all of them,” I say. “You all crushed it. We have a great team this year.”
