Page 61 of The Transfer
The guys are thrilled, cheering and jumping around as I join them in our normal warm-up. I take it all in, and I can’t help but smile at the realization that these guys are much more than teammates. They’re family.
Coach callsmy name as I’m walking out of the locker room, motioning for me to follow him into his office. My body is beat after not having played basketball in over a week, but I do as he says and take a seat on the couch he has across from his desk.
“How are you after practicing for the first time?” One thing I always appreciate about my uncle is his blunt approach to things. He wastesno time getting to the heart of the matter, something he and my dad have in common. Well, had, I guess.
“I wasn’t sure if I was ready to play, to be honest. But as soon as things got going, it was like muscle memory and everything else disappeared. I could forget. Is that terrible to say?” I look back at him, hoping I don’t find disappointment.
A small smile sits on my uncle’s face as he takes in my words. “No, Riggs, it’s not bad. Your dad wants you back in basketball. We talked extensively about what to do when he passed. I promised him I wouldn’t pressure you, but if you needed a push in the direction of the court, I’d give it. But you found your way back on your own. Your dad was certain you would. I was, too.”
Tears I refuse to let fall start to cloud my eyes, so I look down at my feet until they’re gone. “Thank you, Jake. It's good to hear you talk about him. I’m so afraid to bring him up around my mom because she’s so fragile right now.”
“Riggs, have you thought that maybe talking about him with her would be healing? You miss him, and it’s helping you. Imagine how much she misses him. He’s not here physically, but that doesn’t mean you avoid his name.”
“You’re right. I’ll do my best.”
“Nephew, you’ve always been like a son to me. I love you fiercely as a player, but especially as a person. Unfortunately, you inherited the Hart stubborn streak that both your dad and I share. I’m worried you’re taking on too much. You don’t need to do it all by yourself. Let me help. Let Lane help. Your teammates are here for you, and so is Reagan. You don’t have to do this alone.”
His words hit harder than I expected them to, especially at the mention of Reagan. I have typed out about a hundred texts to her, but I delete every single one before I get the nerve to send it. I regretted what I did and said as soon as I heard the front door slam. However, I stand by my decision not to bring her down or hurt her. She doesn’t need that in her life.
My teammates have reached out countless times, but I haven’t let them do anything either. Maybe the coach is right. I don’t have to shoulder it all, but I won’t burden Reagan. It’s not her job to fix me.
“I get that. It’s just always been basketball and family for me. I don’t know how to do it any other way.”
“Well, you can lean on basketball right now if that’s what you need. But let that at least include me and your teammates.”
“Okay, Coach. I hear you.” He’s right about that.
“Since we’re on the subject of basketball, how do you feel about playing the game in three days?” he asks, and excitement builds inside me, just as it always does at the thought of playing.
“I’m in,” I tell him, and I mean it.
Basketball was my life before Dad’s sickness, and it’s going to be that way again.
FORTY-SEVEN
REAGAN
Ihave everything set up behind the bench that I will need for the game, when one of the managers approaches me. “Hi, Reagan. Um, Coach Hart wants to see you in the locker room. Right now.”
My heart rate speeds up at that. I’ve never been in the locker room pregame, and I’m not sure what Coach would need me for, unless…
No. I know he wouldn’t want to see me. I pinch my eyes shut and try to erase the thought of seeinghimtonight.
According to Jordan, Riggs is playing tonight. His first practice back was emotional for the whole team, and everyone is thrilled he’s back in the starting lineup tonight.
I quickly rush to the tunnel and down the hall to the locker room. I see Coach pacing in front of the door until he sees me. His steps cease, and his shoulders visibly relax.
“He needs to see you right now. He won’t say it, but I can tell. I’m going to ask him to come out here, okay?”
“No, Coach. You’re wrong. We haven’t seen each other in almost two weeks.”
“What do you mean, Reagan?” I guess no one has filled Jake in on the fact that whatever I had going with Riggs is over. Or maybe paused? I don’t know what to call it other than screwed up.
“He told me he needed space and time to be alone right after the funeral. I didn’t know what to do. I fought him on it, but it was no use. He made up his mind, so we’ve had little to no contact since then.”
Shaking his head, I see Coach look up at the ceiling, like he’s sending up a prayer. Then he lowers his eyes back to mine, and I see they’re a little misty. I take a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what he will say next.
“My nephew is intelligent and strong, but also stubborn and a complete idiot. His grief is telling him to do things alone. I have checked on him, but I didn’t realize he had cut you out. He needs you, Reagan. I know that, and deep down, he does too.”
