Page 84 of Pity Play

Noah shakes his head. “They told me I’d be the assistant coach. They demoted me.”

“Did they cut your pay?” my dad wants to know.

“No, but what does that have anything to do with it?” Noah demands.

I interject, “You got demoted but you kept your same salary, so what’s the problem? How did you lose your job?”

“I quit!” my brother practically yells.

“Noah Riley.” It’s my mom’s turn again. “Don’t you dare tell me that you let your pride get in the way of gainful employment.”

My brother bangs his fist on the table like a toddler demanding more Goldfish crackers. “My pride? I’ll tell you about my pride. I single-handedly took that team from twentieth in thestate all the way to third in three years.Idid that. Holland Frame didn’t.”

“And so, you just walked?” my dad wants to know.

Noah shakes his head. “Not just like that. I told the superintendent that I would stay and allow Holland to be my assistant coach.”

“Oh, dear,” my mother says. “And of course they said no.”

“Why of course?” Noah wants to know.

My dad pipes in with, “The NBA championship thing?”

“I brought the team up,” my brother’s voice raises again. “They aremyteam, not Holland’s.”

Leave it to my mom to cut to the chase. “So, you quit and came home to stay? That doesn’t make any sense, honey. What could there possibly be for you here in Elk Lake?”

“It is still my home,” he tells them. “At least until you sell it.”

My dad nods his head sagely. “That’s true. It is. But we’re selling soon.”

“There’s something else,” Noah says. All eyes are on him, so he adds, “Elk Lake High School has offered me a head coaching job.”

“Elk Lake?” my mom asks.

My dad finishes her question, “High school?”

“Yes, Elk Lake High School,” he tells them. “You might remember it because your children went there?”

“Their season is over,” I volunteer. I know this because prom came early which means they didn’t even make the playoffs.

“They’ve hired me for next year, but they want me to get going and start training next year’s team.” He smugly adds, “They have high hopes that with enough practice, I’ll do for them what I did for my last school.”

My mom looks very confused. “You’ll only be able to stay until we sell.”

“Unless I buy the house from you,” Noah says.

“You want to buy our house?” You’d think my dad would like this idea more than he seems to.

“Maybe? I mean, why not?”

“What about your place in Chicago?” I ask.

“I can rent it out. I want to keep it for at least another five years before selling.”

My mom makes eye contact with my dad and then motions him toward the living room. She tells me and Noah, “Don’t move. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

I have no idea what to say to my brother after they leave, so I tell him, “I’m sorry things aren’t going your way.”

---