“I’m not, I mean, not really. It’s not about him playing football, per se, because whatever he chooses to do, he’ll have my full support. I’ll be front and center at every game, cheering the loudest.”
“I know you will be. What about him playing football isreallybothering you?”
“Nyeem is a star, Ma. He excels in everything he does. I have no doubt he’ll get on that football field and own it, and when he does, what if . . . what if his father decides he wants to swoop into his life as if he’s been here the entire time.”
“If that deadbeat wants to stop being a deadbeat, the only person who can allow it to happen is Nyeem. He’s old enough to decide what he wants from that man. He’s also smart enough to determine if someone is genuine or not. This is not something you should worry about because, ultimately, you have no control over it.”
“I know, but?—”
“No, Sweet Pea. You have to let this play out. You’re worrying about something that is likely not going to happen. Ambrose has shown us who he is, so there’s no need for us to believe he’ll change. As mothers, we want to protect our babies, but sometimes, it’s not possible. We can always be there to help pick up the pieces if need be.”
My mother’s words were hard to accept, but she was right. I had to let the chips fall where they may and support my son, regardless of where they landed.
Two Months Later
“You ready to head out?” I asked Knox after entering his office.
“Yeah. I was just looking at film from last season. Our receivers can use some work, but the talent is there.”
“Good. If we can lock in the Kurrie kid and bring on Ward as the DB coach, we may have a championship team.”
“How’s that going?” he asked regarding hiring the defensive back coach.
“He said he’ll have an answer for me soon. He’s the last position coach we need to fill.”
“I hope it’s what we wanna hear.”
“Do you have someone else in mind just in case?”
“Two others, but I hope I don’t need them. Let’s head out. You’ll have to drive your car because I just realized he lives on the opposite side of my subdivision, and I’m not taking you home. I’ll send you the address.”
A few minutes later, we were in our respective cars and headed to the home of Nyeem Kurrie. I took a chance and reached out to him about a week after he returned from the state track and field meet, just before graduation. He’d brought home the gold in all four events in which he competed.
After speaking with his mother, he agreed to meet with me to discuss joining the football team. I didn’t know what to expect because he was highly recruited and had turned down every coach he’d spoken to, including my successor.
When I arrived, I parked in front of a modest home that didn’t look much different from mine. Knox and I got out of our cars and approached the front door at the same time.
I rang the doorbell, and seconds later, Nyeem answered. He greeted us both politely and invited us inside. We followed him to the spacious kitchen, where finger foods and small bottled waters were on the counter, with paper plates and plasticware.
“My mom sends her apologies. She got held up at work but is on her way. She said to help yourself and have a seat at the table,” he told us.
“Thanks. Y’all didn’t have to do all this, but we sure appreciate it,” I said.
“We definitely appreciate it. Can we use the sink to wash our hands?” Knox asked.
Nyeem nodded toward the sink. We washed our hands, then piled our plates with the mini eggrolls, fried lemon pepper chicken winglets, and mozzarella sticks with dipping sauce. We sat at the table with our plates and bottles of water.
I’d cleaned my plate and was considering getting seconds when I heard someone enter the front door, followed by Nyeem’s voice.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Hey, Son. Have they been here long?”
I tuned the conversation out because her voice caught me by surprise. Chills went through my body, and only one person had ever had that effect on me. I shook off the thought because there was no way the voice belonged to her.
“You good, Bro?” Knox whispered.
“Yeah.”
