by Tim Mettey
**
Cora was waiting for me on the porch, drinking a tall glass of lemonade. As hot as it was, I would have been inside with the air conditioning drinking the lemonade, not out on the porch.
“So how was practice?” she asked. I wasn’t sure how she knew where I went—she was good. I sat down next to her and explained how the school was transformed with all of the new renovations and what Joy Lemmins had said. She just listened, not saying anything, just taking it all in. Every once in a while she would take a sip of her lemonade and then she would turn her focus back to me. I also explained about how I accepted Coach Miller’s invitation to become an assistant coach, which brought a smile to her face but still no words.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I asked.
“What would you like me to say, Nicholas?”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that someone would donate all of that money to remodel the school in my honor?”
“Nicholas, I think you should get used to odd things happening to you. And I’m going to hate myself for saying this, but I agree with Joy Lemmins. You and I need to not focus on the bad anymore, but the good. The school remodeling is a nice thing and it’s a wonderful honor for such an incredible young man.” She took my hand and put her arm around me. Cora was not very good at showing emotion, but when she did, it was nice. She made me feel good, just like my mom would have.
“So what time do we go over to Riley and Genevieve’s tonight?” she asked.
“He told me to come at 8:00. Hopefully Genevieve won’t be there. I caught her spying on me the other night at Elle’s. Wait, how did you know I talked to Riley?”
Smiling, she said, “Because I know you.”
