Page 5 of Crossing the Lines for Love

“Daddy,” Niko sang when I entered the family room.

He ran to me with open arms. I picked him up and placed a few kisses on his cheek.

“Wassup, Son? Were you good at school today and for grandma and grandpa?”

He was in half-day kindergarten at the same private school I went to for elementary school. Unless he stayed the night with my parents, which he did some weeknights, I took him to school,and one or both of my parents picked him up while I was in class or working. He stayed with them until I left campus for the day.

“Yes. I’m always good, Daddy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” I placed him back on the floor, and he ran off and busied himself with some of his toys.

“Your mother is in the kitchen finishing dinner. You staying?” my father asked.

“Y’all have asked me that every day she’s cooked since I moved out, and I’ve yet to turn you down. The answer will always be yes, so y’all can stop asking.”

“Some days, you might not be invited, so don’t assume you’re invited if I don’t ask,” he joked with a serious undertone.

“I bet my mama will disagree with you.”

“Boy, I pay for the food in this house. If I don’t want you to stay, you ain’t welcome.”

“Yeah, okay, Pops. I love you too. How was he today?”

“He’s always fine, Son. His mother must be mild-mannered because you were nowhere near as well-behaved as he is at that age.”

I thought about my son’s mother, Chanice. We didn’t spend a great deal of time together because we weren’t in a relationship, but I got to know her fairly well while she was carrying our child. She had a very calm demeanor and was slow to anger. Niko’s personality definitely mirrored hers. He’d been that way since the day he was born.

“Y’all go wash your hands. Dinner is done.”

A few minutes later, we were in my parents’ eat-in kitchen. Deuce was strapped into his booster seat while my parents and I sat at the table. My mother had made fried chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and homemade biscuits. I probably should’ve been eating a healthier meal, but there was no way I could resist.

“How was the meeting with your coaches?” my mother asked.

“It was only me and Coach Lisle. The meeting wasn’t what I expected.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, is right, Ma. He dropped a bomb on me.”

“Well, is it a secret, or can you tell us?” Pops questioned.

“He won’t be with us this season because he got a job as a head coach at another university.”

“Really? Well, good for him,” Ma said.

“Yeah. Great for him, but not so good for me.”

“I understand losing a great coach isn’t ideal, but this isn’t just about you,” Pops reminded me.

“I know. It sucks having to get used to a new coach and coaching style during my final season, but I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will. I’m sure Coach Lisle gave it a lot of thought before making his final decision. Opportunities like that don’t happen very often.” My father continued.

“He said the same thing, and I agree. I’d love for him to be around for my final season, but I understand and respect his decision. Since I’m the team captain, I’ll have to make sure the other guys do the same.”

“I’m sure whoever they hire will be well qualified and properly vetted. I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you,” Ma told me.

“There’s no sense in worrying anyway. It won’t change what’s about to happen. Now that I’ve had time to process it, I might as well embrace it.”

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