The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel - Vi Keeland Page 0,75

the doctor came in. I don’t remember saying goodbye to my mother—I was too young when she died. But I imagined it felt an awful lot like saying those last words to Marlene did.

I looked down at her frail body. “There are so many things you taught me over the years. To never give up. To love someone worth loving, flaws and all. Hell, I can say someone isn’t all there in their head a thousand and one ways because of you. But you also taught me the one thing I need most right now: When life knocks you down, stop and look around for one thing that’s good, because there is always something. Then cling to that good.” I kissed her forehead one last time and covered her hand with mine. “Here’s the good I’m holding on to today. I’m lucky to have known someone who was so hard to say goodbye to.”

I couldn’t possibly have hidden my tears from anyone that time.

Not long after we said our goodbyes, the doctor removed the breathing and feeding tubes and turned off all of the monitors. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but she simply stopped breathing.

Marlene Elizabeth Garner died at 1:03 a.m.

Chapter 33

Willow

Life is filled with a series of tethers. Imaginary threads that connect us to people from the moment we’re cut from our mother’s cord. I’d spent the first twenty-five years of my life trying to cut those threads and fly high, out of reach. It wasn’t until eleven months ago that I woke up one morning and realized those tethers weren’t chains that were keeping me down. They were lifelines, and my threads were so frayed, there were virtually no lines left to my life. Last night—or maybe it was actually today, I wasn’t even sure anymore since one day had blurred into the next—the strongest thread that had ever existed in my life was cut away.

Brody handled all of the plans. Tonight we would have a small service at my grandmother’s church. Tomorrow we would drive to the cemetery and lay her to rest. And then . . . I didn’t know what came after that. I only knew I didn’t want to lose Brody again.

I dressed in a simple black dress. It was a summer dress and the air outside had the chill of late fall, but a sweater was going to have to make do since I didn’t have money for shopping. Brody knocked on my door right on time. I had told him I would meet him downstairs, explained that parking was difficult to find. But the reality was, I hadn’t wanted him to see where I was living.

“You didn’t have to come up.”

I hadn’t put my heels on yet, so he was almost a foot taller than me. I saw him look over my head and scan my apartment. I knew what he was doing, and I certainly couldn’t blame him.

I opened the door wide and stepped aside. “No drugs. I’m clean.”

“I wasn’t . . . ”

I arched my eyebrow as if to say yes you were, and he confessed with a grin. “All right, maybe I was.”

He came inside.

“Let me give you a tour.” I twirled a circle with my arms extended. You could tour my entire studio apartment, except the bathroom, in one pivot. “Tour over. So how do you like it?”

“I like it. It’s . . . warm.”

“It’s not really. You better keep your jacket on.”

“It’s yours, right?”

“You’re really taking this find one good thing to heart, aren’t you?” I teased.

“I am.”

“Just give me one minute, I’m searching for my black heels.” My apartment was small, but the ceilings were high. Typical for Manhattan. There was little surface space left, so they built up.

One wall in the living room had built-in storage that started at about seven feet. I hopped up on the small ratty love seat that served as my living room furniture and stood on the back, balancing as I opened different compartments.

“What are you doing? You’re going to fall.” Brody walked over and reached up to my waist, steadying me as I searched through the storage cupboards. He moved with me, making sure I didn’t fall as I walked the length of the couch top, inspecting and closing different doors. When I reached the last one, I found the shoes shoved into the top corner and had to stand on my tippy toes to reach them.

“Got ’em,” I waved the shoes in the air like I’d just