Page 112 of The Check Down
Though the conditions are awful, the Blues’ teamwork and focus are not. They play with grit the entire game and give their opponents one hell of a challenge, but it’s not enough. They lose the game by three points, and their season is over.
My heart aches for them. For my adopted city.
“So sorry, Moonbeam. They can hold their heads high knowing they gave their all.” My dad’s voice is choked with emotion.
Mom rubs soothing circles on my back as tears stream down my cheeks. When the cameras cut to the heartbroken faces of Blues players, the ache in my chest grows heavier. There’s a shot of Griffin consoling a teary Devon that turns my tears into sobs.
Dad shuts off the TV.
Unable to come up with adequate words of solace for Griff, I choose three truthful ones that I hope will bring him a modicum of comfort tonight.
I love you.
I don’t try to call him, though I long to hear his voice. He and his teammates need space to grieve and heal together. So I scrub my face and climb into bed, and within minutes, sleep takes me.
“It’s not Sunday,” I say to my dad the next morning when I find him standing at the stove, cooking french toast.
As I peck his cheek, he shrugs. “It’s your favorite.”
I’m slipping a pod into the coffee maker when Mom floats down the hall in a floral kaftan, a main staple of her wardrobe. She kisses my brow before she grabs Dad’s face and plants one on him—the kind of kiss no grown woman wants to witness between her parents. When she finally cuts him loose, she wipes his lips with her thumb.
“Remind me to reapply, love.”
When our plates are loaded with syrupy, powdery goodness, I dig in eagerly. “Did I tell y’all that Griff has made french toast for me a couple times?” I ask between forkfuls.
My parents cut their eyes at each other, their expressions abnormally serious.
Spine snapping straight, I rest my fork on my plate, french toast all but forgotten. “What is it?” My pulse quickens as my imagination runs rampant with dire scenarios and possible diagnoses. And when Mom slips her hand in Dad’s, I gulp a painful swallow.
They continue to side-eye each other, but when he tilts his head my way in encouragement, my mother takes my clammy hand in her warm, soft one. “We need to talk to you.”
My fear is so acute, I can’t form words.
“We don’t want you to move back to Florida,” she says, wearing a pitying smile.
I rear back. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, shoot, that came out wrong.” She shakes her head. “What I mean is, we don’t want you to move back here forus. If we’re the reason you’re job hunting down here, then you can put a stop to it.”
Ipinch my brows together, my stomach tightening. “You…you don’t want me to move back home?”
“Not if it’s solely for our benefit, Moonbeam.” Dad takes my other hand, the Nelson family circle complete. “We don’t want you to feel obligated to look after us. Even when we’re old and senile, we have plans in place. You deserve to live your life without the burden of caring for aging parents—”
“You’re not a burden. You’re myfamily.” My voice cracks, and tears crest my lashes, mascara be damned.
“That’s right. We’re your family, not your responsibility. We want you to live your life, Brynn. Enjoy that hunk of yours, travel the world, chase the stars. And when you’re ready, have some babies.” Mom squeezes my hand. “He’s your family now, too.”
I shake my head, bewildered. “What if Iwantto move here? What if Iwantthis job?”
Dad leans back, chin lifted. “Do you? Truly?”
I open my mouth, only to snap it closed.
Do I? I was certain that I needed to check it out, sure that it was a sign when I couldn’t stop thinking about that email.
But now?
Mom’s eyes grow misty. “Brynn Amethyst Nelson, we’ve been waiting thirty years for you to spread your wings and fly. I meanreallyfly. Sure you went off to college on your own, and then to graduate school. But you made those big girl moves because you thought they were expected of you. Then you followed a man who didn’t deserve you to an unfamiliar city because you thought you loved him. But you didn’t take flight—put yourself first—until you met Griffin. With him, yousoar, baby girl.”