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“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“With that being said, I will be in Atlanta in a couple ofmonths for a short meeting. I’d love to stop by Makers and get the chance to meet your siblings.”
Holy fuck.
It’s happening. After years of questioning whether I can do it. Do it for them. Here I am, handing them the ticket to a successful life I’ve always dreamed of giving them.
“My siblings? I think that can be arranged, sir.”
I’m trying really fucking hard not to freak out and beat my chest with pride.
“Perfect,” Jim mutters. “If it’s alright with you and your mother, I’d like to present them with their scholarships myself?”
“Of course. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Bradford. This means more than I can say.”
His slight chuckle sounds through the phone. “It’s my pleasure, August. You put in the work, and we’re happy to see you do something impactful. They seem like great kids.”
“The best there is.”
“I’ll be in touch. You keep up the great work, and between you and me…knock the brakes off Houston.”
“Plan to. Thanks, Mr. Bradford.”
I hang up, unable to move. Unable to think straight.
I’m not someone who is known to make major life plans, but this right here. This goal that is now so tangible I can practically feel it, feels like accomplishing something much greater than myself.
Much bigger than winning something as significant as the World Series.
All six of my brothers and sisters get the fast track to a brighter future.
A brighter tomorrow.
There’s a part of me that worries about how my mom will take the news. Although she’s pretty laid back, I expectshe’ll assume I pursued this to make sure my siblings aren’t stuck living at home with her.
She’d be right.
I pull up the location finder on my phone. I hate that this is what our relationship has come to, but I won’t sleep unless I know my mom makes it home at night to be with them. I already have Ms. Marsha, the kindest Bahamian woman, come over once the kids are out of school to watch them until Mom gets home from work.
Which is usually late, given she’s the night shift waitress at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. But since I can’t be there, I feel more comfortable knowing Marsha is. Then, when I’m not on the road for games, I spend the weekend at Mom’s, helping out however I can and catching up on the time I miss.
With Levi being the oldest, I hate that he has to feel what I did when I was younger. The pressure to help however he can when he should be focusing on being a kid. A sixteen-year-old kid. Acing tests, going to high school football games, and girls.
At least with this scholarship for college, he’s guaranteed a fresh start after graduation.
Speaking of Levi, I should give him a call. Let’s hope he remembered to charge the cell phone I gave him. It’s shocking for him growing up in this new generation, most kids can utilize technology in their sleep. Levi, on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit about any of that.
He’d rather skateboard or throw a baseball around than be glued to his phone. I’m the one hounding his teenage ass to keep it charged in case of an emergency or if he needs to talk.
He’s my dude.
I click his contact in my phone and send a silent prayer to the man upstairs that he decided to charge it.
“I’m alive.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for the proof of life, kid. What’s good?”
“Chicken parmesan, but we know Mom can’t cook,” Levi sighs.
