“You’re right,” I told him. “With the schedule Coach Levy and I have come up with, you’ll be in front of scouts at most of the basketball tournaments. You know I can put you there, but it’s up to you to show them what you can do.”
“Now more than ever, I need to prove myself,” he said. “Thanks, Coach.”
“My pleasure. Now, let’s watch this recap,” I told him. “I need to see where my teams line up.”
Cutter turned the volume up, and we sat there watching ESPN replays of NFL recaps.
Chapter 31
Antonia
The small arena where the state championship game was being played was packed shoulder to shoulder with fans, spectators, and family members. My parents, Nova, and I had an in through Weston and were able to have reserved seats.
The mood among us was somber, though. Miri should’ve been here to see her son in the biggest game of his life. Her absence weighed heavily on me and made me feel like I had failed her somehow, even though I knew I hadn’t.
The game came a week after Miri’s passing. I’d kept a watchful eye on Cutter, looking for any signs he wouldn’t be able to compete tonight, but he seemed solid, which also scared me because I was sure he was hurting.
We were all hurting.
Nova wore her heart and pain on her sleeve. She moped, cried, and barely slept, which meant I’d barely slept. Her bed was tiny, and taking her to the guest room with me was something my mom had advised against. She didn’t want Nova to get into the habit of sleeping with me. Each nightmare, I went in, read her a story, and rubbed her back until she fell back asleep. She now had a night-light, something she hadn’thad before, and slept with her door open, which meant Cutter had to be extra quiet when he came home or moved about in his room.
My dad had made signs for Cutter and passed one to each of us. We all wore basketball shirts with Cutter’s name on them—anything to show our support. Thankfully, in the week since Miri’s death, her parents hadn’t called, although I was fully expecting them to be a thorn in my side. They’d have to understand that their relationship with Cutter and Nova was strictly up to the kids. I would only intervene when Cutter asked or when I felt lines were being crossed.
Nova and my mom climbed the bleachers to our seats, carrying bags of popcorn and a stack of hot dogs. Nova declared that hot dogs from concession stands were the best; otherwise, she didn’t want to eat them. I took her word for it.
The boys came out to begin warm-ups, and my dad was the first one to stand up and start cheering for them. He clapped, pursed his lips in a loud, ear-splitting whistle, and pointed at Cutter. Other parents followed with their own jubilation.
“Cutter!” Nova yelled each time he came somewhat close to the half-court line. According to Weston, we were at the end where the boys would shoot in the second half. All the terminology made me feel a bit out of place. Weston and Cutter had promised to teach me everything I needed to know by next season, but first, they were going to teach me baseball, since that started next week.
According to Cutter, I needed to know when to cheer, when not to throw my popcorn, and when to pace. I’d seen Miri pace a lot during the games where Cutter pitched, and he said I needed to do the same, or he might not be able to get the ball across the plate.
Something told me I was being bamboozled, but whatever. If he needed me to walk back and forth like his mother had, I’d do it. Anything to make this life easier.
Weston came out after the boys, followed by Jerome, whom I’d learned was his best friend. Weston looked across the court, and despite the number of people in the stands, I told myself he was looking for me.
With that thought, my body warmed. Ever since that night in his garage, whenever he was near, my body reacted in the most pleasurable way. The heat his presence brought out in me was unexpected and now welcomed.
I gave him a little wave, in hopes he was looking for me. He waved back, and my cheeks flushed.
“Auntie, Weston is waving!” Nova’s little arm went back and forth in rapid succession. He waved again, and she grinned widely. “Can Scout come over later?”
Scout had been a godsend for these kids. And, if I was being honest, for me as well. There was something so soothing about him. It was like he’d been trained to be a therapy dog, when in reality, he was just a caring soul who knew when people needed him.
“We’ll see what’s going on after the game,” I told her.
“I believe Lee is hosting the boys for dinner,” my dad said.
“Lee?”
He nodded. “Lee owns the Ridgeview Diner.”
“Yeah, I know who Lee is, Dad. How do you know Lee?”
My father looked at me strangely, as if I had three heads. He then tilted his head to the side and shook it slightly. Clearly, I had missed something during my mourning over Miri.
“I worked with him on catering.”
My mouth formed into an “Oh,” and I looked away, embarrassed. “Yeah, makes sense.”
