Page 55 of The Transfer
I try to think about what she could be saying to me and gasp. “Are you engaged? Wait, are you pregnant?!”
She starts cackling into the phone. “No, you dummy! We are talking about moving in together after graduation. He wants to buy us a house on the beach.”
“Are you ready for that?” I know they’ve been together for almost eight years, but she always said she wanted to get married before living with him.
“Time will tell…” she responds with an uncertain tone.
Time is a horrible beast. I just didn’t know it was about to throw its worst my way.
FORTY-ONE
RIGGS
The season is flying by. We are in the middle of conference play and have only lost one game. It was a brutal loss to a team we are better than. They just caught us on a rare off night and took advantage of it. That one loss has us tied with Durham at the top.
My dad has been hanging on, and I know it’s partially for me. The week after New Year's, hospice started coming in, and their visits have only increased. He is in so much pain, and at this point, my heart is torn between wanting to keep him and allowing him to finally be at peace. It has started to affect my game a little. My head is not always where it should be, and I have never dealt with that before.
We are currently blowing out the worst team in our conference in our last home game for a few weeks. It’s my best game in a while, and I know it is because my parents—yes, even Dad—are in the stands. I was shocked to see Mom wheel him in. He looks good tonight, better than I’ve seen him in months. It fuels me to play harder and make him proud.
As the five-minute television time-out is whistled, Coach Hart takes all of us starters out, and we sit down to a huge round of applause and cheers from our home crowd. We are doing what we promisedourselves at the beginning of the season, playing hard and winning games.
I look up and see my dad whistling and cheering loudly. When our eyes meet, he gives me a wink and a grin. I’m so happy he is here tonight.
Taking the water and towel from our manager, I take a deep gulp and wipe my face. Our second and third strings play through the last five minutes and manage to look pretty good doing it. We jump and scream when a walk-on hits a three-pointer as the shot clock expires on our last offensive play. When the final buzzer sounds, we rush through the line, congratulating the other team on a game well played, and I walk back over to our bench.
“What a game, Point Guard! You killed it out there. Eight assists and no turnovers,” she teases me, not realizing that her knowing all my stats is a huge turn-on. I mean, to be honest, everything about her is a turn-on. But with how crazy the season is, we haven’t really had much time together. Not since that kiss on New Year’s Eve that ruined me.
“Thank you, Sunshine.” Looking behind her shoulder, I notice my mom wheeling my dad up to us.
“Son, you played yourself a game tonight.” Dad couldn’t be any happier than he is right now. “Mom and I were thinking we would take you and Reagan to dinner. Does that work for y’all?”
Silence.Is he serious?This man just sat through a game and now wants to go to dinner? He has hardly left our house in weeks. I shake my head, not overthinking it. “How about Reagan and I grab some takeout, and we can eat it at your house?” I don’t want him to overdo it.
“Riggs, I just want to take my boy out and celebrate. We can go to the Cookout across from the football stadium if that makes you feel better.” I know he isn’t going to take no for an answer, so I nod, and Reagan agrees.
Thirty minutes later, we’re all eating burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Well, Dad is having a few fries and a milkshake, but it’s something. I let myself enjoy the moment, just as I have with him lately.
My dad and Reagan have been discussing the upcoming NBA draft and where they think Jordan will end up. The man is having a beast of a senior season, and all the scouts have noticed.
“Anywhere on the East Coast would be great with me,” Reagan says with a sliver of hope in her voice. My girl is going to miss her twin. We often talk about how one of her favorite people could be anywhere in the country after this year.
“I know, sweetheart. I think LA would be lucky to get him, though. He fits in with their offense and has the personality to fit in with the Hollywood crowd, too.” My dad is right about that. LA has been a dumpster fire the last few seasons. Jordan could be a game changer out there, and they have the third pick in the draft.
Knowing she doesn’t want to discuss that any further, I jump in. “I think we have a shot at winning it all. That is what we are all currently focusing on. If we can keep Durham at bay, we control our own destiny at this point.”
“I know you’re going to go all the way. Conference title, National Championship, this is your year, Riggs.” Dad says it like it has already been decided. I laugh a little but secretly pray he is right.
It doesn’t take long to finish our food. After Reagan and I hug my parents and I get Dad comfortable in the car, I grab my girl’s hand and head back across the street to the stadium parking lot. I walk her over to her Jeep, not wanting this time with her to end.
Pulling her body flush with mine, I put my nose in her hair, inhaling that sweet Reagan scent that I love so much. Kissing her jaw and down her neck a little, she lets out a soft moan that makes me ravenous for her mouth. I quickly capture her lips with mine and kiss her. As she kisses me back, it’s like I feel her giving me peace, strength, and everything else that I need in the moment. She is my salvation. And I will gladly worship at her altar for the rest of my life.
I’m not sure how long we stand there kissing, but eventually we pull apart, both grinning like fools. I open her door, allowing her to get inside.
“Riggs, I, uh, thanks for tonight.” I know there is something she isn’t telling me, but I’m too exhausted to dig into it tonight. I’ll ask her about it tomorrow.
“Good night, Sunshine.” Kissing her forehead, I shut the door, and she drives off.
I climb into my own car and take a deep breath. Tonight was exactly what I needed—seeing my dad more like himself, winning our game, and being able to share it all with Reagan. A weight lifts off my chest and a smile spread across my lips. It doesn’t get much better than this.
