Reye took the step leading up to the front porch of
Shane’s home. It was located near the center, in one of the
older neighborhoods in the city. The condition of the
homes on this street ran between ‘don’t give up the ship’
to ‘this ship has sunk’. Shane’s home fell into the first cat
egory, needing a new coat of paint and a few minor
repairs, but overall it was in fairly good condition.
Reye knocked and waited. Shane answered, a smile
lighting up his face, its twin in place on Reye’s. She’d missed him.
“Hey, Ms. Reye,” he said.
“Hey back at you.”
“Who is it?” a voice from somewhere within the
house called out.
“It’s Ms. Reye,” Shane responded. “Do you want to
come in?” he asked her.
“No, I’d better stay here,” she said, looking over his
shoulder to see Joe enter the room, a kitchen towel slung
over his shoulder. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt
and he walked up to stand at Shane’s back, his expression
blank.
“Can I talk to you a moment, Joe?” she asked.
“Shane, go and finish drying the dishes and I’ll be
there in a second. If I take longer, get ready for bed,
okay?”
“Sure, Uncle Joe.” The boy walked back into the
house. “See you later, Ms. Reye,” he said as he went.
“See you, Shane.”
They waited until he was gone. Then Joe stepped out on to the porch with Reye, closing the door behind him.
She spoke after a few moments of awkward silence. “I
stopped by to check on Shane. I don’t know if you know
this, but in addition to soccer, I also work with him in
the after-school program at the center. He’s hasn’t been
there in a while, so I wanted to check on him. Will he be
returning?”
“I don’t know.”
Reye observed Joe, reading frustration in his body
language as he began to pace. He stopped and spoke. His
tone was defensive. “Look, my sister, Shane’s mother,
took off about the last time you were here. She’s has emo
tional problems because of our parents, and they some
times get the best of her.” He must have read the unasked
question on her face. “Long story, and one that I’m not
sharing. Anyway, she has a problem with alcohol,” Joe
said and stopped pacing, walking over to sit on the step
leading up to the front porch. “Sit,” he said, and Reye
fought back the need to voice her indignity at his com
mand. She stood there, giving him a ‘I know you didn’t
just say that to me’ look. He looked up and revised his
statement. “Please sit,” he said. She did and he con
t
inued. “This isn’t the first time she’s left. Shane called me one morning about two weeks ago after he woke up alone
in the house. So I moved in here, hoping it would be
temporary, because I’ve got school and work. But it
doesn’t look like she’s returning. We haven’t heard a peep
from her.” He was quiet for a minute. “I refuse to let him
go into foster care. I know what that feels like.”
“Can I help?” she asked, taken in by his story and his
commitment to Shane.
“You would help us?” he asked in disbelief.
“It’s not you. I’d be helping Shane. I can bring him
home from the center or soccer practice until school
ends. What? We have two more months left, right?” she continued. “Can he get to school in the mornings?” Joe
nodded yes. “And the bus can bring him and the other
kids from school to the center. You just need someone to
bring him home and I can do that. I hate to see him stop.
He’s come so far in his studies. I don’t want him to lose
that.”
“You would do that? After all the things I said to you
and about you?”
“I’d do it for Shane.”
He sat quiet for a second. “Okay.” There was a long
pause. “Thank you,” he said.
“I’ll start tomorrow.”
* * *
Sunday, the week before spring break, found Reye and Stephen at her house again. They were always at her house. This day they were both sitting on the floor studying. Stephen was actually studying, but she was mostly daydreaming.
“Did I tell you that I was offered a permanent job at
the community center after graduation? That would
mean that I would be here in Austin. What do you think
about that?” she asked.
“Sounds good, if that’s what you want to do,” he
responded somewhat distractedly. “You seem to enjoy the
time you spend there.”
“Okay.” She’d hoped for a different answer, one
encouraging her to look for work in Dallas, perhaps,
where he would be.
“What are your plans? Still going to work with your
family’s law firm?”
“I think so. Why wouldn’t I? I like Dallas, it’s home.”
“Have you thought about practicing anywhere else?” she asked.
“No,” he answered firmly and succinctly.
Leave it alone, Reye
, she thought. She’d been anxious
lately about them, about how this would end. She loved him very much, and was very much afraid of the damage
it would do to her if he left. And her instincts were telling
her that he would.
“Are you going home for spring break?” she asked.
“Actually, Henri and I, along with some other frat
brothers, are going to Cancun, this being my last time
and all. We’re leaving this Saturday.”
“Oh,” she choked out, more than a little hurt. His
plans hadn’t included her. She added the trip to Cancun
t
o her growing list of slights. One, he never mentioned
her meeting his parents; two, he didn’t want to meet hers;
three, they were always at her house; four, they never
went anywhere else; five, he didn’t want to help with her
team; and six, he’d been distracted lately, mentally elsewhere. Could he be seeing someone else? The only con
stant between them seemed to be their sexual
compatibility. That was the one area where she felt she had his complete and undivided attention, an unbeliev
able connection to him. But was that all this was for him?
* * *
Reye looked into the expectant and scared faces of her soccer team. This was their first game of the season. She’d
started out with thirteen players, eleven boys and two
girls. Most hadn’t played soccer before and here they were
now, standing in a circle waiting for her to give her first
pre-game pep talk. The team’s name, Lightning, had been
Anthony’s recommendation. Almost everyone preferred
it to Ladybugs, which was Shondra’s suggestion. They
were all dressed in their hot pink and sky blue uniforms courtesy of Barbara’s House of Braids. Blue soccer shorts
with matching blue shirts timed with pink piping around
the neck and sleeves. The socks were a matching blue; the
girls pleaded and were granted the option of wearing
pink socks. The boys refused, mutiny evident in their
faces at the suggestion. Sam and Reye were dressed in
matching blue shorts, with pink polo-style shirts that had
LIGHTNING COACHING STAFF engraved on the l
eft top side. Between the parents and sponsors, they’d
been able to round up soccer balls, shoes, and shin guards
for those kids who couldn’t afford them. They were a
family now.
All but a few of the parents had taken off to watch
their child’s first game of the season. It was being held at
one of the local high schools’ soccer fields, which was
usually kept in fairly good condition. It was typical Texas
weather for March, totally unpredictable, ranging from
the high seventies at the beginning of the day to freezing
two hours later. Today, however, was perfect; low seven
ties, with the sun shining brightly down on them, the
trees starting to bud, even.
Looking down into the faces she’d grown to know and love this year, she felt a rightness and gratitude for
the opportunity to help shape and be a part of their lives.
She stood quietly waiting for their chatter to stop.
“Okay, guys, this is our chance to put all those skills
we’ve worked on in practice to use. You’ve worked so
hard in preparation for this game, so let’s continue that
effort. We can do this! We can win! Eric and Shondra,
you’ll be the team captains today.” Eric was athletic, with
a strong grasp of the game gained from playing at home
with his older brothers and father. The other less experi
enced boys on the team admired him. Reye took in the
kids’ smiles, asking, “Are we ready?”
Thirteen mouths screamed, “Yes!” Blowing her back
with their enthusiasm.
“Arms in, everybody. Lightning on three. One, two,
three, Lightning! Take your places on the field. Jésus and
D, you two will be the subs today.” Reye looked over at the
opposing team, all shiny in their red, white, and blue uni
forms, remembering herself at this age, nervous, excited,
and filled with energy. One thing could make this day
more special for her, Stephen’s presence. He was busy with school, of course, and then he was leaving for spring break
tomorrow, he needed to pack, yadda, yadda, yadda. She
understood, but she also knew, but didn’t voice, that you
showed up for what was important to you. She was hurt.
Reye looked out at the field and saw her kids in their
places, waiting for the game to begin. The referees had
arrived, the center referee reminding her of Stephen; they
looked to be the same age. She pegged the two linemen as middle school age. The ref blew the whistle and the
game began.
The other team won the toss, giving them the ball
first. Both teams played similar lineups, two forwards up
front, four players in the middle, and four players in the
back. Reye’s strategy was basic, get the ball to their
leading and only scorer, Eric. Soccer at this age level usu
ally consisted of having one or two good players on each
team, and those players scored. Most kids were still
growing into their bodies, and only a small few managed
to grasp any more complicated soccer concepts.
Lightning wasn’t any different. Eric was their main scorer
with the other team members feeding the ball to him,
and, as expected, he received and moved the ball down the field, headed toward the goal. The opposing team
wasn’t so fortunate in their lineup, so Eric had scored
four goals by the end of the first half.
H
er halftime speech was short and sweet, and after
conferring with Sam, she moved Eric to the midfield, so
as not to run up the score. She hated teams that did that,
and was rewarded as the other team scored two goals in
the second half, but Lightning won! They gathered
around her jumping up and down. “Great game, you
guys. Way to play. I am so proud of you.”
The parents had lined up on the field, two lines,
London bridge style waiting for the kids to run under
neath their arms, and they did, screaming and shouting
all the way, receiving and giving high fives to each other and their parents. They left with their parents soon after,
all but Shane. Joe had called her earlier, informing her
that he wouldn’t make it to the first game because he had
work commitments that he couldn’t reschedule, but he
assured her he would be attending the remaining games. They’d previously exchanged cell numbers in case of an
emergency with Shane.
“Great job coaching today, Reye,” Sam said.
“Why thank you, Samuel, you were great assisting the
new and magnificent coach.”
Laughing, he put his arm around her shoulders and
pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry Stephen missed
watching you coach.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she said, feeling emotional all of
a sudden, and not just because of the game. She felt lately
that Stephen was putting distance between them and
pulling away from her. She stayed in Sam’s arms for a
second more and then stepped away.