The Chance

  She sat back, her smile still in place. “Tell me about her.”

  And like that, the conversation turned to Ellie. Nolan sighed. “I met her in third grade.” He laughed easily, but he could feel his heart going back, traveling down the old familiar road in a way he was helpless to stop. “I haven’t seen her in eleven years.”

  Kari’s eyes showed her surprise. “She’s the girl in your heart? And you haven’t seen her since you were teenagers?”

  “It’s a long story.” He wasn’t sure how wise it was, talking to Kari Garrett about Ellie. But he couldn’t help himself. He liked talking about Ellie with someone other than Dexter. “We were fifteen when she moved away.” He laughed, but only to hide his pain. “I was going to marry her. We . . . we didn’t mean to lose touch.”

  “Oh.” Kari looked like she wasn’t sure what to say next. “That’s sad.” She took another sip of her coffee. “You tried to find her?”

  “You could say that.” He wrapped his hands around the base of his coffee cup and let his eyes settle on hers. “My dad died of a heart attack the spring after Ellie left. The two run together in my mind. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  “Yeah.” Her smile seemed forced. “I can see that.” She breathed in deep and reached for her phone. “We should probably go. It’s late.”

  Only then did Nolan realize that the walls she’d let down minutes ago were up now. Firmly in place. He’d said too much. Kari was fun and pretty, and she shared his love for God. He would’ve had fun hanging out with her again, but now . . . “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re fine.” She laughed, though there was nothing funny. This was the same Kari he’d climbed into his car with earlier that night. The one good at preventing awkward silences. “Thanks for tonight.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “I had fun. Really.”

  “No, that was dumb.” He laughed, too, but more out of frustration. “It’s been eleven years.”

  As they left the coffee shop, Kari shifted the conversation back to their time bowling. “I should think about investing in a pair of shoes. You know, like the pros.”

  Even as she kept things light, Nolan silently chided himself for talking about Ellie. He had ruined things with Kari before they started. All because of a girl he hadn’t seen since they were kids. Ellie could be married or living out of the country, for all he knew.

  On the way to his car, a lone photographer stepped out of a dark doorway and caught a dozen pictures of them before Nolan put his arm around Kari’s shoulders and hurried her across the street, away from the parking lot. They could walk around the block, take the long way. But by then it was too late. The guy had what he wanted, and an hour from now he would have sold the pictures to a handful of paparazzi websites and magazines.

  Other NBA guys could avoid being fodder for the gossip rags, but not Nolan. When he and Kari were finally inside the car, he grabbed the steering wheel, glanced at her and groaned. “Sorry about that.”

  She laughed. “It’s okay. People love a good story.” On the drive back to her car, she entertained him with tales from her mother’s recent tour. Conversation seemed to come naturally for her, and it made him realize again what a good night he’d had. As he pulled into the Hawks’ facility, she grew quiet, and when he parked, she turned to him. “I had fun.”

  “Me, too.” He still felt the tension between them, the reality that he had taken the talk about Ellie too far. “Back there, that stuff about the girl from my—”

  “Nolan.” She put her hand lightly on his shoulder, but only for a few seconds. “Don’t apologize. She obviously still means a great deal to you.”

  “But it was so long ago. I just . . . I need to move on.”

  Again she allowed a bit of laughter. “You haven’t heard from her in eleven years? Yeah. Probably move on.” She opened the car door. “When that happens, I’d love to hang out again.”

  Resignation worked its way through him, and he sank back in his seat. “I’ll call you.”

  She smiled, but her eyes told him not to make promises he didn’t mean. “Those bowling tips. I’ll be ready.” She had a brilliant way of not being the victim. She ended their time together the way it had started, with laughter and lightness. He waited until she climbed into her car and backed up before he did the same. He followed her to the exit, the whole time wrestling with himself.

  What was he thinking, talking about Ellie like that? He barely knew Kari. She wasn’t wide-eyed and nervous around him, treating him like a celebrity, the way other dates had. He breathed out and let the sound settle in his soul. He didn’t blame her for ending the night when she did. As long as Ellie could still fill his conversation that easily, no girl would want to invest time in him.

  If only he could get past the next month, past the first of June. The play-offs would be winding down, and if Atlanta stayed in it, he would be home, right in the middle of a three-day break. He’d already looked. The date had been etched on his soul for eleven years. No wonder he talked about Ellie. What happened now came down to a simple truth. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, did Ellie remember?

  Or was he the only one who knew the significance of tomorrow?

  Twenty-four days until June first.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kinzie loved Sundays.

  Tina had taken her to church since the start of first grade, and now she looked forward to Sunday all week long. Kids stayed for the first part of the service, and that was where she was right now. Sitting on the cool wood bench between Tina and Tiara, Kinzie listened to every word the pastor said.

  “Sometimes it takes a while for people to find their happy-ever-after in Jesus.” The man had nice eyes, and he never yelled. Mommy said once to Tina that she didn’t want any pastor yelling at her about what she’d done wrong. So at first Kinzie watched for that, but so far the pastor only talked with kind words. Anyway, yelling wasn’t why her mommy didn’t go to church. Sundays were cleaning day, that’s why.

  “You go to church, Kinz,” she would always say. “This is my time to clean.”

  Right now the pastor was talking about being nice to people who had hurt in their hearts. Hurt feelings, that’s what he meant. Kinzie was pretty sure. She looked down at her pink-and-white tennis shoes. Something had happened that morning that she didn’t tell Tina or Tiara. Mommy was at the computer, and she had her hands over her face. Kinzie watched her from the hallway, and she saw her mommy wipe her eyes. Her shoulders shook, too. So Kinzie knew for sure Mommy was crying.

  She never cried in front of Kinzie, but sometimes when she didn’t think anyone was watching, she would cry. This morning Kinzie walked up real quiet and put her hand on her mommy’s back. “I’m sorry you’re sad.”

  Real quick, her mommy sniffed and wiped the tears off her face. “It’s okay.” She turned around and hugged Kinzie. “I was just . . . wishing I could give you more. A different life.”

  “Why?” Kinzie leaned back and put her hands on her mommy’s cheeks. “I like our life. I don’t want something different.”

  Her mommy’s eyes still held tears, but she smiled and kissed Kinzie’s cheek and hugged her. “That’s my girl. How did I get so blessed to have you?”

  Kinzie smiled at her mommy. “Because Jesus loves you. That’s what we learned at church.”

  Her mom looked away like she didn’t really believe it. She hugged Kinzie again. “As long as you love me. That’s all I need.”

  Lots of times Kinzie asked her mom to go to church. “You might feel better, Mommy.”

  “I know.” Her eyes looked very sad. “But Sundays are when I clean the apartment. You know that.”

  The pastor was still talking about people who were hurt. “It’s our job to love them, our job to show them the love of Jesus every day. And it’s our job to pray for them.”

  Kinzie thought about praying for her mommy right now. Dear Jesus, please be with my mommy and make her happy. I don’t want it to take a long time for her to be happ
y. Thank you for listening. Love, Kinzie.

  When the kids went to Sunday school, Kinzie colored a picture for her mom, because maybe that would make her feel better. The picture was Jesus sitting on a bench next to her mommy, and they were eating ice cream and talking about summertime.

  When they got home, Tina made lunch, and Tiara helped. Kinzie ran to the bedroom where her mom was vacuuming. She held out the colored picture, and her mommy turned off the machine. “What’s this?” She took the paper and held it up. “Wow, Kinzie. You’re such a talented little artist.” Her mom sat down on her bed, and Kinzie sat beside her. “It’s beautiful. Tell me about it.”

  Kinzie felt proud of her drawing, especially because her mommy said she was a good artist. She pointed to the people. “That’s you sitting with Jesus. You’re eating ice cream and talking about summer.”

  “Hmmm.” Her mommy nodded. “Looks like we’re having a nice time.”

  “You are.” She stared up into her mom’s blue eyes. “Pastor said some people take a long time to find their happy-ever-after in Jesus.”

  All of a sudden tears were in her mommy’s eyes again. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “But it doesn’t have to take a long time, right?”

  “Well, sweetie, it’s complicated.” She patted Kinzie’s hair and stood. “I need to finish in here. Then I’ll make pancakes.” She hugged Kinzie, and she put the picture on the bed. “Thanks again for my drawing. I love it.”

  As Kinzie left the room, she felt sad, because maybe it would be a long time before her mom ever went to church. But until then she would do what the pastor asked her to do. She would pray for her mommy.

  That one day soon she would find her happy-ever-after.

  Ellie had a feeling that tonight’s bedtime routine would take longer than usual. She sat on the edge of Kinzie’s twin bed and waited for her to brush her teeth. The day had been long and marked with emotion. Kinzie wanted so badly for her to go to church, and as always, Ellie got out of it by claiming she had to vacuum and do laundry. Sunday was cleaning day. But her daughter was learning more at Sunday school, learning about people who run away from Jesus. She was getting old enough to understand that cleaning could happen on another day.

  Kinzie came in from the bathroom, her pink flannel nightgown swishing around her ankles. She smiled at Ellie, but as she folded back the covers and slipped into bed, her eyes looked troubled. Ellie ran her hand along her daughter’s blond hair. “So, Kinz, you want to talk about anything?”

  A serious look crossed her daughter’s face. “Anything?”

  “Sure.” Ellie tilted her head, wanting desperately to connect. “Whatever you want.”

  “Okay.” She blinked a few times, the way she did when she was nervous. “Did you ever believe in Jesus? When you were a little girl, like me?”

  Ellie kept her smile. “I did.” Her tone was kind, gentle. “Believing was part of my life back then.”

  “So,” she paused, “now you don’t believe?” She looked heartbroken at the possibility.

  “Well.” Ellie felt tears in her eyes. “Not like I used to.”

  Kinzie let that sink in. “Are you mad at Jesus?”

  “Hmmm.” She hadn’t really thought about it before. “I’m not sure.” Who was she mad at? Her parents, of course. And yes, maybe even Jesus. He could’ve prevented all this, right? Kinzie was waiting for an answer. “I guess life just got hard. With my mommy and daddy.”

  “When they broke up and your daddy moved you here?”

  “Yes.” Ellie had long ago explained why there was no grandma or grandpa in Kinzie’s life. “It’s hard to believe sometimes.” Answering the questions was like walking through a minefield. Ellie breathed deep and remembered to smile. “Anything else, sweetie?”

  For a long time Kinzie looked at her. The sweetness in her eyes was back. “I’m sorry, Mommy. That it’s hard to believe.” She sat up and kissed Ellie’s cheek. “I’m praying for you every day.”

  “Thank you.” Ellie searched her daughter’s eyes, the innocence and faith there. “Keep praying. I know it helps.”

  “I will.” Kinzie nodded and yawned at the same time. “I love you always.”

  “I love you forever.” Relief flooded Ellie’s soul. The exchange was something they’d read in a book once, and ever since then it had been their special way to say good night. She rubbed Kinzie’s back till she fell asleep. Enough talk about faith and believing.

  Ellie tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind her. With everything in her, she wanted one thing—to pile the two of them into the car and drive east. As long and far as she could without stopping, just drive and play the radio and think and cry. It wasn’t weighing on her only lately. Her birthday had made her think about her dad again. How he must have felt, living on his own, and how sad it was that the two of them hadn’t talked. Other than Kinzie and Tina and Tiara, Ellie had no one. Her roommate was still awake, and Ellie found her in the kitchen.

  Tina studied Ellie as she walked up. “Everything okay?”

  “Just a long night.” Now wasn’t the time to go into it. She didn’t want to talk about church or God or the reasons she struggled to believe. “I need to take a drive. Think about life.”

  “You’re not doing it again, are you?” Tina gave her a look that demanded truth.

  “What?” Ellie crossed her arms.

  “You know what. Thinking about Nolan Cook.” Tina shook her head. “You have to let that go. You were kids, Ellie.”

  “I know we were kids. It was a lifetime ago.” Her tone was more defensive than she intended. She forced herself to whisper so she wouldn’t wake up the girls. “Of course I still think about him. His name and picture are everywhere.”

  “I’m just saying . . .” Tina’s expression was filled with compassion. “You can’t move on while you’re clinging to a fantasy.”

  Even Tina didn’t know about the tackle box or the letters or the significance of June first. Ellie took her keys from the hook on the wall. “Thanks, Tina.”

  “Don’t be mad.” Tina followed her to the door. “I only want to help.”

  Ellie stopped and faced her friend. “I know. That’s why I need to drive. So I can figure out why I haven’t moved on.”

  “I’ll pray for you. That you can figure out a way to let him go.”

  Ellie didn’t want to hear that. Who did Tina think she was, offering to pray? Like she was better than Ellie? Her anger grew with every heartbeat. She needed to leave before she said something that would hurt them both. Not until she was in her car and halfway down the street did she think again about what Tina had said. Nolan was a fantasy . . . she would pray for Ellie to let him go. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and her knuckles turned white in the moonlight. That’s all Nolan was in Tina’s mind? A fantasy?

  She took a deep breath and exhaled with deliberate calm. Tina knew only Nolan Cook, the famous NBA player. If she’d seen Ellie and Nolan sitting under their old oak tree all those years ago, she would have understood. Nolan Cook was not a fantasy. He wasn’t.

  The thought shin-kicked at the edges of her conscience. Or was he? Who was she kidding? Nolan lived in a different world from the one they shared when they were fifteen. He was one of the most sought-after millionaires in the country. If he remembered her, it was probably only on occasion, and if he could see her now, a single mom unwilling to attend church with her little girl, Ellie knew exactly what he’d think. He’d be sad that life had changed Ellie Tucker, and then he’d wish her the best. He would probably offer to pray for her—like everyone else in her life—and that would be that.

  No wonder Tina’s comment hurt so badly. Regardless of what Ellie wanted to believe or what she sometimes let herself believe, the truth was blatantly obvious. Nolan Cook would never be interested in her now.

  She was two miles away from her apartment before she realized she was headed toward her father’s house. The one that belonged to Ellie’s grandmother
before she was moved to a nursing facility. When Ellie and her dad first moved to San Diego, they ate most dinners at her grandmother’s house. The old woman never liked Ellie’s mom; everyone in the family knew that much. Quickly, it became clear to Ellie that her grandmother didn’t care much for her, either. It was the reason Ellie hadn’t given Nolan her grandma’s address as a way of keeping in touch. If mail came from Savannah, her grandma probably would have thrown it away.

  Her grandma would talk about Ellie’s mom and how terrible she was for walking out on her family and how she was too beautiful. Then she’d say that Alan had better be careful, because Ellie looked just like her mother. On and on and on her ranting criticisms would go. Back then every awful thing she said or alluded to forced Ellie to remember a different happy time with her mom, some special memory. Just so she wouldn’t forget the way her mom really was. Or the way she had been before her affair.

  But eventually, even Ellie’s memories couldn’t offer a defense for her mother’s behavior. After a year when her mom didn’t attempt to contact her, Ellie had no choice but to acknowledge the truth—her mother had changed. She no longer loved her the way she once did. First her grandma, then her mother, and finally her father all turned away from her. By the time Ellie walked out of her father’s life, she had no one to call family.

  No one but Kinzie.

  Ellie kept driving, heading toward the little clapboard house. The one she had avoided for the past seven years. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to drive here tonight. Whether it was the conversation with Kinzie, or the questions about why she didn’t believe like she used to, or the eleven-year mark drawing close.

  Whatever it was, she became more determined with every mile to see the house and maybe even park for a while. Watch for the man inside who had given up on ever reconciling with her. She didn’t think about the absence of her parents every day, but the evidence was always with her. They had moved on, as if they’d never had a daughter. Sure, her parents’ lives were messy. Her mom lonely, drawn to an affair. Her dad brokenhearted, controlling and dominating, always assuming the worst of Ellie.