should listen to her.”
I turned back to my sister. “Are you sure you’re not hungry? I could get you a protein bar, or I think they had apples, or—”
“Really, I’m fine.” Katie waved her hand frantically at the banana, like she was trying to make it disappear. She fixed her too-bright smile back on my dad. “Actually, Dad, since we’re on a break, what if you came and led a prayer with everyone? Do you think that could help?”
It was a brilliant ploy, in terms of getting our dad off her back. The only thing he liked better than censuring people was doing so publicly, which was basically what prayer was for him. Katie shot me an apologetic look over her shoulder as she drew my dad away and I tried to smile encouragingly.
I looked down at the coffee and banana that I’d brought. Maybe Katie hadn’t actually been hungry, and was just going to take them from me to make me feel better? I moved back to the wall where my mom was standing, holding her purse in one hand and my dad’s briefcase in another.
“How was the hotel last night?” I asked, because it felt a little weird to be standing next to my own mother and not speaking. My mom didn’t answer, just left her gaze focused on my dad and the circle of Katie’s teammates that he’d drawn around him, praying. “Mom?”
She blinked up at me, like she’d just noticed I was there.
“Did you say something?”
I suppressed a sigh. “I asked how the hotel was. But we don’t have to talk about that, if you’d rather talk about something else. How’s your garden coming along this year? Or how was the—”
“It was fine, Julian.”
She managed to make my name sound like a rebuke, and we lapsed back into silence. That was what conversation with my mom was like, most of the time. Like trying to talk to a brick wall that scolded you occasionally for bothering it.
Eventually, my dad came back to join us as Katie’s team ran through the section leading up to their basket tosses. The other family members in the room joined us and I relaxed a little as Katie took her place on the mat. Her smile seemed genuine now.
But as the team began to move, I noticed my dad frowning, as though he were watching an entirely different routine. His eyes narrowed, his face growing tight, and with a start, I realized he looked actively angry.
My chest seized up. I swept my eyes downward to see his hands curling into fists. That stance, that set to his face, was something I’d learned to recognize in an instant when I was a kid. It was the sign of rage, barely held in check.
But what the hell was causing it now? I went back to watching the routine, more nervous than ever, looking for some indication of what was setting my dad off. If I could figure it out, maybe I could defuse it.
Katie’s bases got into position, setting her up. The next second she was flying, up in the air for a toe-touch before coming back down, and that was when I saw it—Katie’s wince as her bases caught her, and the flash of fear in her eyes as she glanced over at us. No, not at us. At my dad—who’d lurched forward half a step.
It all happened in the space of seconds, and then Katie was back up again, balanced now on one foot, bringing her other leg up to her ear. It was breathtaking, and I’d never ceased marveling at Katie’s talent.
Then she wobbled. Straightened. Wobbled again. I watched her grin falter as she gritted her teeth. Stuck it out until she came down when she was supposed to. Continued with the routine. I don’t think I breathed until the music stopped and everyone came off the mat.
Kinley called everyone into a huddle, and I could see unshed tears in Katie’s eyes. Kinley was loud, and I braced myself to hear her talk about Katie’s form, but she didn’t. She didn’t even mention Katie until the end, when she pulled her aside and I overheard her send Katie to the trainer.
Katie nodded, flicked her eyes over at my dad, and hurried out of the room. I watched her go with a sinking feeling, wondering if I should do something—wondering if there was anything I could do, even. Maybe not, but I could at least go with her.
I started for the