After parking at the back of the high-school parking lot and noting the vast collection of cars, Grace gathered that the basketball game was more important than she had previouslypredicted. She didn’t want to imagine how badly guilt and sorrow would have beat on her like a kettledrum had she missed it for a meaningless tryst with Tyson. Thank God for miracles, large and small.
Very appreciative that He was still in the blessing business,an affectionate smile accompanied Grace into the gymnasium.It beamed even brighter when she saw that Wallace manned the cash box at the door. “Heyyy Grace, glad you could make it,” greeted the extremely happy cash-box attendant.“That son of yours is lighting up the scoreboard.”
“Wow, it’s packed in here,” Grace hollered over the cheeringfans. “Where’s the other guy, the one who normally works the door?”
Wallace narrowed his eyes and pulled Grace closer to him so that he wouldn’t have to shout his answer. “He was arrestedlast week. Got caught spying on the girls’ locker room from a hole he’d drilled. They ran a story on the news and everything.”
“I haven’t watched TV in months, but I knew something was wrong about him,” she said, while digging in her purse. “Here, this is all I have.” Grace pulled out a twenty, but Wallacerefused it.
“No, this one’s on me. Enjoy the game.”
“What?” she yelled over the noise.
“I said, enjoy the game!” Wallace repeated louder. He handed her an orange-and-blue pom-pom fastened to a thin wooden stick. “You’ll need this for the game. It’s a good one.”
“Oh, thanks. See you later,” Grace answered before steppingaway to hunt for an available seat.
The second half got under way as she reached the home team’s bleachers. André whizzed by her with the ball, blazingup the court. She watched him direct his teammates in the same fashion Wallace had directed his class. Players dashed in and out with precise maneuvers as André instructed.Grace was amazed at how fluently her child moved with the basketball. He was in a zone, scoring, slashing, and rebounding as if possessed. Everyone was screaming André’s name and waving handmade signs to root him on. Intermittently,Grace glanced at the door where Wallace sat behindthe small table. Each time she looked his way, he was looking back at her. She almost felt like a high-school kid herself, participating along with a roaring crowd and shoutingnames of the players she heard others chant.
There was a time-out called with ten seconds left on the clock after André had his ball stolen. He’d been careless and dribbled it away from his body. Grace remembered Skyler telling him that would happen against a better opponent. The team’s coach pointed his finger in André’s chest when the boy lowered his head. Grace wasn’t bent out of shape over some coach getting in her son’s face about feeling down on himselfbecause she would have done the same thing had she been close enough.
“Keep your head up, boy!” Grace shouted boldly. “Don’t give up, Dré, ten seconds is a long time!” Those seated near Grace applauded her optimism despite their team being behindby one point.
“You tell him, honey!” bellowed the leggy blonde Grace had met in line that night outside Wallace’s classroom.
“Spartans! Spartans! Spartans!” they cheered increasingly louder as the referee whistled for play to resume.
Grace held her breath when the other team passed the ball around to run off the remaining seconds. André’s expression hardened. Grace hadn’t seen him so immersed in a battle since he was four years old and struggling to conquer the alphabet.With his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth the way she remembered from back then, André chased the boy who’d taken his ball. “That’s it, Dré!” Grace screeched at the top of her lungs. “Stay with it!”
As if he’d heard his mother’s voice amid hundreds of otherswho were shouting directives while the clock ticked down to six seconds, André lunged at the ball handler and cut his eyes at the opposing player moving toward him. He doubled back and slid between them. The ball dribbled off someone’s shoe. Grace’s heart stopped when André scooped it up and sprinted down the hardwood toward his team’s basket.The clock ticked down to one second. Grace closed her eyes and turned her head away. A resounding hush fell over the audience as André hoisted a shot from the half-court line. The buzzer sounded just as the basketball swooshed through the net. Pandemonium filled the tiny gymnasium. Grace was the last person to learn that her son’s team had won the game.
“He made it?” she asked frantically. “He made it?” All she could hear was screams of jubilation that André’s miraculousshot was nothing but net. Her chest swelled with pride as he was mobbed by his teammates. Pom-poms flew, and Grace thanked God again for allowing her to witness André’s finest moment.
Grace was jostled and shaken while receiving thunderous congratulatory pats on the back typically awarded to the fatherof outstanding athletes after they had performed the unthinkable,but she was just as pleased to accept the accolades that she deserved both as mother and father.
“Dré actually made that shot,” Grace said to Skyler for the umpteenth time as her son exited the locker room followinga short team meeting. He had the game ball tucked beneath his arm like the old teddy bear he wouldn’t be seen without until he started preschool and discovered that teddy bears weren’t allowed.
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t have got his ball snatched in the first place,” Skyler teased him. “Ain’t that right, Rookie?”
“You told me to keep it close,” André replied, with a colossal dose of humility. “I got it back, though, didn’t I?”
“And you knew what to do with it too,” Skyler gushed approvingly.
“Atta boy,” Grace squealed with delight. “Ain’t no quit in him.”
“I’m a Hilliard, Ma,” André said as if it went without saying. He handed Grace the game ball, then threw his long arms around her neck.
“What’s this for?” she asked as Wallace eased up behind the family reunion in session.
“It’s for the most valuable player, Grace,” Wallace informedher. She blushed when he reached out to congratulateher.
André nodded his head. “Tell her, Mr. Peters. The best player deserves the rock. We couldn’t have done it without you, Ma.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, confused by the ceremony and its sentiment. “I didn’t have my behind out there fighting for every second until the time ran out.”
“Maybe not, but I heard you in the stands,” André explained.“I heard you telling me to stay with it.”
“Yeah, we all heard her,” Skyler joked, using his fingertips to plug both ears. “I probably won’t be hearing anything else for a long time either.”
“Go on, boy,” she giggled. “If I didn’t bust an eardrum every now and then, what kinda mother would I be?”
“Not mine,” André chuckled. “Y ’all ought to hear her yelling at me to get out of bed in the morning. That would wake the dead.” He and Skyler wandered off to join a group of students loitering near the exit.
Grace held the basketball like a Mother-of-the-Year trophy.“What do I do with this?” she asked finally.
Wallace rubbed the top of it with his left hand, then hunched his shoulders. “An award such as this doesn’t come every day. It’s suitable for mounting.”
Grace agreed. “Then that’s just what I’ll do. I’ll have it mounted so everyone can see what my son thinks of me.”
Wallace slid both hands in his trouser pockets as he was accustomed to doing when nervous. “I’m very glad that you made it here to see the big finish. Some things can’t be appreciated the same way, hearing about them secondhand. It kinda makes you want to celebrate, doesn’t it?”
Knowing what he was driving at, Grace batted her eyes. “Are you asking me out on a postgame victory date?”
“That depends. If you’ll say yes, I am. You know how hard it is for a man to deal with rejection from a beautiful lady. I’d hate to put it out there and have it come back all beat down and stepped on.” Although
Wallace had made several attempts to contact Grace by phoning her, she hadn’t returneda single one of his calls, so he figured his chances were slim to none.
Grace studied his pitiful expression and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Wallace, I would love to, let me check with Dré.” Grace had another reason to be thankful for endingup in the right place at the right time. Wallace’s stock was rising in the available-men market. On a real date, she’d have an opportunity to investigate his long-term yield potentialbefore making a sizable investment. It was finally time for Corporate Grace to sit down and take notes for Grace the mother, and CEO of Team Hilliard. Regardless of the outcome,she had already begun to value Wallace’s friendship immensely.
It took some doing, but Grace managed to tear André away from a particular cheerleader with a fondness for a coming-of-age Hilliard man. He was glad to hear that Grace wasn’t there to drag him home. André had been working up the nerve to ask her if he could trot off for burgers with Portia.Grace wasn’t in favor of him and the precocious cheerleaderbeing alone for a solitary minute, so she struck a deal.
“Get Portia’s mother on the phone,” she demanded. “If she says it’s okay, then Wallace and I will make it a foursome.”
“Ahh man,” André protested. “Ma, you’re kidding right? Forget about it then. I don’t like her that much.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll tell Wallace—Mister Peters—that we can celebrate another time.” Grace turned to walk away, hopingAndré would experience a change of heart.
“Okay, okay,” he whined under his breath. “It doesn’t matter that Portia’s a sophomore, and a cheerleader captain with her own car?”
“Oh, that cinches it. Now I know that I’ll need to holla at her parents. Her own car? Humph, I’ll be standing over here when it’s time to introduce myself to her people.” Wallace had been watching the interaction between them but couldn’t make heads or tails of it when Grace returned wearing an odd expression. As he asked for the verdict, she shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she answered. “But I think I just brokereda double-date with my own child. Lawd have mercy.”
Portia whipped out a top-of-the-line cell phone and dialedup her father, who happened to be a judge. The HonorableHoward Rosewood spoke to Grace. He vouched that his daughter was extremely trustworthy and respectful for a girl her age. Then he went further and applauded Grace for caringenough to get involved. It was set, a double date at French’s Fries, a greasy spoon that offered a clog-your-heart menu. Grace hadn’t eaten any high-fat, high-calorie junk in such a long time that she was really looking forward to it.
Portia led the way, Grace followed closely, André and Wallace brought up the rear. Their caravan motored into the diner’s parking lot. Grace was tickled when it appeared that the cunning little cheerleader-chick made an effort to park her foreign two-seater sports car at the farthest end of the lot so that she and Dré could enjoy a long, quiet walk up, and perhaps the same after dinner. The girl had spunk, Grace conceded. She liked that, mostly because Portia reminded Grace of herself as an overly aggressive tenth grader.
Wallace met them inside the burger pit. “I’ve asked for a booth, if that’s all right?” His comment was directed at Grace, but her son intercepted it.
“I’d rather sit over there,” André answered, pointing across the restaurant to a small table near the kitchen. “Is that cool with you, P?” he hinted to Portia.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, we’ll give the grown-ups some privacy,” she offered slyly. “Besides, they don’t want to be bored with our juvenile conversation. Come on, Dré.” Come on, Dré? That little hussy had probably been ordering boys around since she’d discovered how easy that was to do. Grace had to hand it to her, though, she was a fast learner.
When André started out after Portia, Grace tugged at his gym shirt. “Hey, you have any money?” she asked quietly so as not to embarrass him.
“Yeah, but she’s treatin’.”
“So!” Grace snapped. “You shouldn’t get in the habit of letting women pay your way. Man up and handle the check when it comes. Got me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” André answered, his eyes cast down towardthe floor. “Anything else?”
“No. Have a good time, son. If Portia wants to drive you home, I guess that’ll be okay, too.” Dré’s eyes widened with anticipation. “Straight home,” Grace clarified when it appearedhe’d gotten a bit too excited.
“Thanks, Ma. See you later.” André looked in the young girl’s direction. “I’ll be over there if you need me.” He strolled off casually with his heart pounding and ego lifted. It was the ending to a perfect evening for him: a winning shot and his first date with the prettiest girl in school.
On the other side of the burger joint, Wallace welcomed Grace back. “Is everything going to be okay? Looks like you had a bit of trouble cutting the apron strings.”
“Shoot, I barely had a chance to see what the boy was up to before he snatched them off,” she told him, with a concernedexpression. “He’s really growing up fast, Wallace.”
Not sure how to respond to that, Wallace grinned instead. “I’ll bet. I’ve seen him mature in the short time he’s been in my class. You’ve done well.”
Grace blushed nervously, then fidgeted with various items on the table. “Sometimes I wonder how much further along he’d be if, you know, he’d had a man around.”
“By a man, you mean Edward?” Wallace questioned for more reasons than one.
Again Grace fidgeted before she breathed life into what had been troubling her. “I don’t know what I mean. Edward is the boy’s father. Although it doesn’t seem right, him trying to claw his way back into Dré’s life like this. Maybe it’s too late for him to come around trying to play the good-daddy role.” Wallace leaned back in his chair. He pretended to read over the menu, but he didn’t fool Grace. “What?” she asked, wide eyed and wanting to know why he opted to remain silent on the matter.
“It’s none of my business, Grace. And anyway, you probablywouldn’t like my answer.” Wallace looked up to find her staring at him, so he had no choice but to continue. “I feel that a child, especially a young man, should have every opportunityto bond with his father, unless of course it becomesdetrimental.”
Grace frowned playfully, then sneered at Wallace. “Who asked you?” she joked. “Next time, mind your own business.”
Wallace laughed as he threw up both hands in a defensive posture. “See, you had to ask.”
“You don’t even like Edward, and you’re taking his side. I see how this works, men sticking together.”
“It has nothing to do with what I think of Edward. If he fell off the end of the earth, that’d be fine with me.” His harsh words concerned Grace because she didn’t have an inkling as to what caused them. This edgy side of Wallace was one she hadn’t seen.
“Was it that serious, what went down between you two?” she asked apprehensively. After the waiter took their orders, she got more of an answer than she’d bargained for.
Wallace was fidgeting now, and he had a difficult time maintaining eye contact because Grace had unknowingly opened up an old wound that had yet to heal completely. “Do you know why tonight’s basketball game was so important?” Grace shook her head that she didn’t. “The last time a John Quinn High School’s freshman squad beat Judson Prep was eight years ago. It wasn’t a big deal then, but the star of that team was Skyler’s older brother, Donnell. He was a talented kid. As a senior, he was touted as a can’t-miss pro prospect, the same way Skyler is now. Every college in the country wanted Donnell, and all he wanted to do was help his grandmotherput food on the table so Skyler would have a decent meal. Those boys had to bury their mother a couple of years prior to that. Money was scarce, so Donnell hooked up with some rough dudes from the block. Nothing big at first, a couple of break-ins.” Grace envisioned Skyler’s face as Wallacetraveled deeper into the story. “Eventually, Donnell got himself jammed up over a liquor store robbery. The owner told the police that
the star basketball player was driving the getaway car.”
As Grace listened attentively, she became a bundle of nerves. “Was it Donnell behind the wheel?” she asked pensively.
“Well, a tired grandmother showed up at my office bright and early one morning asking me to prove that it wasn’t.”
“Miss Pearl,” Grace thought aloud. “But why you?”
“Yeah, Miss Pearl. It seems like a millions years ago. I was a young attorney, full of myself, and competent enough. She begged me to take the case, saying how Donnell had alwaysbeen a good person but had a chip on his shoulder becauseof his mother’s drug overdose. Miss Pearl convinced me that although he’d made some mistakes, he deserved anotherchance, a better chance for a good life. I agreed, took the case, and went up against this new hotshot Assistant DistrictAttorney fresh off the Atlanta Circuit of Appeals courthousesteps.” Grace didn’t have to say Edward’s name to confirm that’s who Wallace was talking about. “The DA’s office put on a good case, but all Edward saw was another menace to society fit for a jail cell. He wanted a conviction, and his name in the papers attached to it. I swayed the jury into believing that a man shouldn’t be judged solely by the company he keeps. I argued that Donnell was in the car but had no prior knowledge of the planned robbery. Edward didn’t prove otherwise, so Donnell was found innocent. He went home as if nothing had ever happened. The college recruiterswere staked out at his house just as they done before,fighting for the opportunity to sign him to a four-year scholarship.”
Grace was reluctant to ask the burning question. “Then, how did he get killed?”
“This is where the story gets sketchy. Within a month, Donnell was in another car outside another liquor store that was being robbed when a police cruiser happened to roll by. They got into a shootout with the thugs inside. Donnell was hit several times in the crossfire.”
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