“Last time I saw her was at Marshall’s repast. I never saw a grieving lady cook a pot of greens with a baby on her hip until that day. I remember wishing I was as strong as she was. I couldn’t even get out of bed to get Ace to his grandmother’s that morning while Angie helped at the viewing.”
“What took you so long to come see her? We been in the same house since that repast.”
He swipes at his bald head. I see Ace in him for the first time—in his muscular shoulders and chiseled jawline. They both stand like they’ve seen all there is to see in the world.
“By now, I think you know that I’m not like Junior. We’re two different men.”
Ace runs his fingers on the back of Mama’s hand and Coach Williams lays his against the door.
“Junior is the type of man that can walk through fire and won’t ever let you know he’s burned. You just realize he’s been scathed in other ways—in his words and eyes. He can take a lot and survive. In the end, he’s always the last one standing though.”
“And why would you think Marshall wouldn’t want me to end up with a man like that?”
He looks at the floor and runs his hands down his sweats. “Because me and Marshall talked about you so much when you were in CeCe’s stomach—about his hopes, dreams, and plans for you. He wanted you to find a man with the same heart as his.”
I try to picture Marshall with his broad nose and almond eyes, holding the world in his hands just like Ace does every day. I see his face without Mama helping me remember his features for the first time. The thought of him makes that bomb in my purse a little lighter.
“They have the same heart. I can feel it,” I mutter. “You just can’t see it because you think Ace is so strong that he can go at life all alone—even without you.”
“You think that?”
“Blake Harvey called him a lone wolf and I guess that’s what he was when Angie died. A sad, lone wolf. Men who can walk through fire still need someone waiting on the other side though.”
Coach Williams’ sad, full smile falls like it’s the first time he’s ever thought of Ace’s lonely existence back in Los Angeles. “That’s all I was trying to give him here—a family.”
“He needs you too, every day. Every single day. Not just us. There’s a lot of no-good people out there that love lone wolfs.”
I reach out and squeeze his forearm before reaching around him and pushing open the door. “You don’t have to say everything right. That’s the worst thing you can do. Just work at it little by little. Angie knows your heart.”
When my voice carries across the room, Ace peels his head from his hand. There’s relief in his eyes, even with Coach Williams trailing behind me.
“You said an hour,” he rasps. “You just missed Andy. He came to check in on her even though she’s not on his service anymore. He says he talked to her new attending and they might increase the dosage of her antibiotics.”
The bomb in my purse ticks while the machines around Mama beep and Ace and Coach Williams avoid eye contact. It’s like two strangers meeting for the first time.
“Okay.” I smile, walking toward him and scraping my fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. I won’t leave again today.”
“Junior?” Coach Williams booms from behind me. “You mind if I sit? I wanted to check on you guys.”
When their eyes touch, it’s a sad connection. Their roles are reversed for once. Ace is the coach in our family—the provider, the pilot, the stable one. He keeps us in line. Even Marcus.
“I figured you’d be with the boys,” he replies.
“I told them we had a family emergency.” Coach Williams slaps his thighs and eases into the extra chair somebody dragged into the room even though Ace never agreed he could.
Ace scoffs while I squeeze between him and Mama’s bed, easing on his lap. He grabs me and the stress he’s been holding is in his stiff arms.
“Since when do you believe in family emergencies?” he asks.
“Since Lourdes told me she needed you and you went running out of that gym. I ain’t been able to sleep since.”
The silence between them is loud.
Sitting between an angry father and son and a sick Mama while holding a bomb in my purse is worse than walking through that fire me and Coach Williams talked about.
“Is that why you came?” Ace asks. “To ease the guilt?”
“Guilt is a heavy word, don’t you think?”
