by A M Heath
I set my eyes solely on the boy trudging up the sidelines and forced a wide smile. “Hustle up, Lane, your team is waiting for you.”
Lane picked up the pace and met the rest of the boys on the far side of the court.
“I’m sorry we’re late. That was totally my fault,” Kelly called out from halfway up the bleachers.
I didn’t acknowledge that I had heard her. The gym can get rather noisy with seven boys enthusiastically dribbling, shooting, and jostling each other, their shoes squeaking with every turn.
Fire licked up my body, first in the back before fanning to the front. I ignored what suddenly felt like probing eyes, watching me from behind. Snatching up a ball, I strode out to the boys and blew my whistle. “Balls up; run me a lap!”
Only a couple of the boys grumbled, but all of them rushed off. It was then that I remembered the paperwork awaiting signatures. Sucking in a groan, I dropped the ball and hastened to the clipboard. Snatching it up from the bench, I marched to the first mother I saw. “Mrs. Ralston, was it?”
She set down her cell phone and nodded.
“I need all of the parents to sign these two forms. The top one is a pledge of conduct and the second is for the boys’ number and shirt size.”
She nodded along with me.
“Can you get this started and pass it around to the others for me?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
At her “no problem,” I turned and hastened back to the boys who were meeting under the goal. Maybe if I could focus hard enough, everything else would fade out until it was only me and the seven boys in my charge. I didn’t want to see images from my memory of Kelly in a cheerleader’s uniform, cheering me on from the sidelines. And I certainly didn’t want to see her in the bleachers, watching me coach her new son. It took years to forgive her for breaking off our engagement weeks before the wedding, and I found life much easier when I could steer clear of her.
But at some point practice had to end, and I had little choice but to leave the court and turn to those milling about in the bleachers. Regardless of how much I didn’t want to see Kelly, my eyes snagged on her. My gut tightened in response. Why was that woman here in my gym? Of all the teams. Of all the boys. Why did they have to land here?
Kelly looked up and held my gaze.
I tore my eyes away, more than happy to fixate on anything that didn’t make me want to punch something. But as the sound of footsteps faded, a particular set drew near. Heat rolled over the length of me, and I took slow, even breaths through my nose.
“Hey, Sanford.”
I forced my pinched lips into a smile and turned to Kelly.
She repositioned the burgundy leather purse strap, then flipped locks of straight blonde hair over her shoulder.
I gave her a nod and started to pull away.
“Sanford,” she said with a chuckle. “Can’t we talk just a moment?”
I pivoted toward her. “Sure, Kel. What would you like to talk about?”
She gave me a head-tilt, complete with a crooked smile. Once upon a time, I would have said that I knew what she was thinking with that look. She was chiding me for making things more complicated. But these days, I preferred to forget I knew her at all.
“You look good.”
I blinked. “Are we really going to do this?”
She tucked away the curves of her smile and cast her gaze to the floor then back up. “I … just wanted to talk to you a moment. It’s been forever and … in a small town like Garland, you’d think we’d have seen more of each other by now.”
I gave her a nod, mouth still pinched thin.
“Are you still mad at me?”
The question hit center in my chest, but I only stared at her. I sucked in a breath and let it out. “No, I’m not. I just wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
She nodded. “Well, I meant what I said. You look great.” Kelly snickered. “You haven’t gotten fat or bald or anything. The beard is new, but it suits you.”
I let the answering chuckle rip from my throat, but I couldn’t return the compliment. Not that she didn’t look gorgeous because she did. I swallowed, turning my thoughts and my eyes away from the way her shirt hugged the slight bulge in her middle. I wouldn’t focus on how beautiful she still looked or how that baby she carried should have been mine.
Instead, I swiped a hand across my trimmed beard and shifted my weight.
But Kelly caught the dip of my eyes and set a hand on her middle. “I suppose you heard that I remarried.”
I only nodded. Behind me, Lane and Ethan yelled, their basketballs bouncing in repetition.
“He’s a good man. A step up from Perry.”
I snorted. “Well, you chose Perry over me, so …”
Her face blanched as if it were the first time she considered whom she was talking to.
“I’m sorry, Sanford,” she whispered.
I shrugged. “It’s fine.”
She studied me for a long breath, but I clenched my jaw tighter as I waited.
“I can’t blame you for being mad at me.”
“I already told you, I’m not mad.”
Kelly’s brow hiked up in a challenge. I used to love it when she looked at me that way but now it only infuriated me.
“I was angry, sure. Who wouldn’t be? But I’m not anymore. It’s all water under the bridge.”
She inhaled and slowly let it out, then looked over my shoulder. “Lane! We better get going.”
Natalie:
I knocked once, then entered, the bells on the wreath announcing my entrance with warmth and Christmas charm in the same way the smell of peppermint greeted me when I entered.
“In the kitchen, honey!”
I strolled through the living room and into the kitchen, dropping my purse on the couch on my way through. Upon instinct, I sent a glance out the kitchen window toward Sanford’s house, but it was still dark. My heart pinched and I involuntarily whispered another prayer for my former best friend.
I turned my attention to the table where shopping bags were still scattered across the gingerbread tablecloth.
Ms. Carol walked out of the washroom.
I met her in the middle, exchanging hugs.
“Busy day?”
I chuckled and pointed to the table. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
She sent me a wide grin that engraved deep lines in her face. “Black Friday is the best time to buy more Christmas decorations.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Ms. Carol dug through a bag and pulled out the wreath she had already sent me a picture of.
A gasp lit in my chest. It was even lovelier in person.
“But that’s not all. I bought you three new ornaments as an early gift.”
“You didn’t have to do that!”
She waved my words away. “Of course I did. And when you see them, you’ll agree with me.”
I waited on suspended breath, as silly as it was. I would get a phone call from my aunt late on Christmas day. It would be short and sweet. And I would get a card from my last foster family the day before, or sometimes the day after, Christmas. So the little trinkets of love from a woman who didn’t have to claim me were precious to me.
One after the other, she removed ornaments from the bag and placed them into my hands, pausing long enough for me to ooh and ahh over them in turn. But it was the last ornament that took my breath away. Tiny yellow flowers hung suspended on what looked like spun sugar, twisted and dried in a dreamy spiral. It was simple. Yet, it was stunning.
“It’s beautiful,” I stammered.
“It was so … you.”
I looked up into her aged brown eyes. “Thank you.” Those two words hardly seemed enough. The ornament was a terrific gift. But it was the fact that she saw me–really saw me–that meant more to me than any trinket in my hand. Only one other person had seen me that way. As if I were something to behold. Someone to study and know. But no longer.
The ornament shook in my hands, and I set it back down in its safe place.
Ms. Carol patted my arm and eased away. Again, her kindness touched me deeper than I was prepared for. She knew when to push, and she knew when to stand back.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, and I blinked away any trace of emotion from my eyes.
Hunter, Ms. Carol’s great-grandson, was the first down the stairs, followed by his friend Mia.
His fourteen-year-old face was quickly losing the baby fat as his frame continued to stretch and grow every time I so much as blinked. As it were, he was taller than my own five feet, four inches.
Hunter jerked his head and flipped his long hair out of his eyes in one swift motion. “Hey, Natalie.”
I grinned and greeted him in return, ignoring the pang of remorse that often followed when looking at him. Hunter had little idea how much he resembled his uncle Sanford, with his sandy brown head of hair and brown eyes. Whenever he smiled at me, I was transported back in time to when Sanford and I first became friends.
I turned to Mia and couldn’t begin to contain the grin that burst onto my face. “You’re wearing makeup!”
“Momma finally said I could.”
Hunter slid away so I could embrace Mia.
“You look beautiful,” I sighed. “So grown up.”
She stood a little taller and thanked me.
I leaned away and examined her again, taking in the coat of mascara framing her brown eyes, and the way her foundation smoothed out her ebony-toned skin. She had finished it off with a berry shade on her full lips.
“Makeup,” Hunter groaned. “I’m glad guys don’t have to wear that mess.”
Mia snorted. “You sure could use some, though.”
He snarled at her, but it only made her cackle.
“Don’t listen to her, Hunter,” Ms. Carol said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “you’re beautiful just the way you are.”
He shrugged out of her reach and glared at us all. “How did I get saddled with so many women? Why couldn’t Mom and Dad leave me with a few brothers?”
We all laughed at the joke he meant it as, but it was a question I had asked myself countless times. Both Hunter and I were orphaned at a young age. And neither of us had siblings. What difference could it have made if we had siblings to bond with? Hunter would have at least been allowed to keep his siblings, since his great-grandparents took him in the moment tragedy struck their family. But I didn’t share that fate, and foster parents didn’t always keep siblings together. So I may have still ended up alone in the end. Although I wasn’t alone. I had the Stones … most of them. I flicked my gaze to the still-dark house next door.
“So, Mia,” Ms. Carol started, “what’s the latest on Eli?”
Hunter groaned and covered his face with both hands. “I’ve heard enough about Eli already. If y’all are gonna talk about boys, then I’m going to Uncle Sanford’s.”
Again, we all laughed.
Mia shoved his shoulder. “I do not talk about Eli all the time.”
Hunter gave her a look that begged to differ.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Well, you better hurry up and go, ‘cause I can’t leave Ms. Carol hanging for long.”
Hunter moaned even as he leaned over, peering out the back door’s window at Sanford’s driveway. “He’s not home yet.” He turned back to Mia and rolled his palm in a waving motion. “Go ahead. Looks like I’m stuck here.” He slunk down onto a kitchen chair as Mia began her excited chatter about the new boy in school.
I gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“I wish Uncle Sanford would hurry up and get back,” he muttered.
So do I, my heart whispered. So do I.
Sanford:
“Don’t you have practice tonight?”
I exhaled and leaned back in my desk chair. “Yep.”
Viola leaned forward and peeked at the computer screen. “Then why are you still here?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got work to do.”
Her silence grew heavy around us. “So … you’re not going to coach the boys tonight?”
I huffed and shot from my seat. “Of course, I am. I just needed to finish up is all.”
Viola eyed me, then the screen, then back to me. “You’ve studied this schedule at least three times. You’re stalling, Sanford; what’s up?”
“Nothing.” I reached for my coat.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“So don’t.”
“You’re not usually like this before practice. If anything keeps you sane during the holidays, it’s basketball season, so what gives?”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. “Look, I gotta go. I’m going to be late.” I angled past Viola but stopped short. Surprising her and myself, I leaned forward and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Stop worrying about me, okay? I’m fine, and I’ll be fine, but I gotta go.”
She gave me a sad grin and nodded.
In the car, I navigated out of the parking lot. The mall stayed plenty busy no matter the hour of the day. I loosened the grip on my steering wheel. Today was just a day like all the others. The fact that it was a painful anniversary didn’t matter. I was no longer in pain, therefore I had no reason to dread this one day above any other. I had no reason to pray that Kelly would send Lane with … the boy’s father.
I rubbed my chest with one hand as I slowed to a stop at the red light. Basketball. I needed to focus on basketball. Layups. Passes. Dribbling. Free throw shots.
My shoulders slowly relaxed. I drove through the light, allowing my mind’s eye to picture each boy in turn, praying for them all.
The boys. The game. That’s why I was heading to the gym. Nothing and no one else mattered.
I had just survived my second practice with my ex in the stands. I watched as the boys shrugged on their jackets and walked out the door with their parents. But the whole time, I busied myself and inwardly pleaded with the Lord to make Kelly walk out that door without saying a single word to me.
But once again, His best-laid plans went against my desires.
The gym emptied, and all of my excuses flew out the window. There was no avoiding Kelly now.
She bent down and whispered something to Lane, who sent me a look, then walked out the door, leaving me alone with his stepmother.
I sucked in a sustaining breath and turned to Kelly.
She edged closer to me, fingering the hem of her short jacket. The whole scene was heads and tails different from the way she used to approach me and so different from the way I had wanted us to stand before each other years down the road.
“Sanford.” She paused, biting her lips together.
I glared at her, steam puffing through my nostrils, my mouth firmly shut. To open it would mean spewing no telling what. Did she not know what day it was?
“I just wanted to clear the air between us.”
“Don’t bother.” I spun around and stomped to my discarded bag.
“Sanford, please, can’t you give me just one more minute?”
I whirled around, finding her steps closer than I expected. “One more minute? Why? Because six years of my life weren’t enough? If I remember correctly, it was you who decided you wanted nothing more to do with me or my time. So why now?”
“I knew it!” Kelly took a step closer, hands now fisted. “I knew seeing me here was troubling you more than you let on.”
I snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I couldn’t care less.”
“When I heard you were Lane’s coach, I stayed away from his first practice.”
I set my hands on my hips. “How kind of you.”
“I came Friday because I wanted to know if it could work, me being here during games and practices, but it’s too much for you.”
Thunderous laughter erupted in my chest before I could think to contain it.
She eyed me strangely.
“You are so full of yourself, you know that?”
&n
bsp; Her face reddened. “I was only thinking of you, Sanford.”
Again, I answered her with a hearty chuckle. “Were you? That’s new. Were you thinking of me when you left me for Perry, weeks before our wedding?” Heat scorched my face. “You stopped thinking of me a long time ago.”
Kelly stared at me. “It’s clear that you can’t handle seeing me all the time.”
I leaned in, dropping my hands from my hips. “It’s been six years, six years to the day to be exact, since you walked out. And do you really think I’m still pining away for you?”
She huffed and shifted her weight. “You’re not pining for me, but you’re still angry at me and you haven’t let it go.”
My hands shook at my sides. “Oh, I’m over it, alright. You have to care to still be angry, Kel, and I stopped caring about you a long time ago.”
She opened her mouth to speak but I rushed ahead. “Look. You want to know if Lane can stay on the team; well, he can. Lucky for him, he’s a great kid. But I’m not going to have you cornering me after every practice because you just feel like talking about the past. Get over yourself, Kelly, because I sure have.”
She chewed her lip and stared at me. “If that ain’t the bitterness speaking, I don’t know what is.”
“Whatever makes you feel better.” I snatched my bag and threw the strap over my shoulder. Marching to the door, I turned back to her. “Unless you want to stay the night here, you should leave; I’m ready to lock up.” I set my hand over the light switch and glared, chest puffing.
Kelly eased her way across the floor, her eyes still locked on mine. She paused as she drew near. “Lane loves having you as a coach, and he has two of his friends on the team. I … I really just want to make this work between us.”
I shrugged. “I already told you Lane can stay.”
“But if you’re this angry with me–”
“I’m not angry, but I am done.” I pointed to the door.
She exhaled and turned away.
I flipped off the switch and followed her out, neither of us saying another word all the way to our cars, which thankfully weren’t parked too close together.
