Page 118 of Zone
My youngest cousin Sage opens it, and when he sees me, he surges forward to give me a hug.
“Knox, dang! I’ve been wanting to see you. I’ve been helping Gloria and Sandra at the stables the last two days, and I didn’t know when you’d be finished with that meeting.”
“It’s good to see you, too, bro.” Sage is the only one of us cousins who didn’t go into sports.
He took after his dad, my uncle Zane, in loving the horses down at Second Chance Stables and working with the special-needs kids who take classes there.
It’s how Uncle Zane met Rachel and her young brother Edward, and that’s how they became a part of our family.
“I’m sorry to hear about your baby girl.” Sage blinks earnest gray eyes up at me. “I wish there was something I could do to help you get her back.”
“Thanks, man.” I reach out to squeeze his shoulder, realizing it’s a lot broader and more muscular than when I left for college.
Sage is a man now, but to me, he’s still the soft-spoken, bookish kid like his dad.
“Is your uncle Edward around?”
“Yeah, I think he’s out back. He likes to practice kicking when shit’s on his mind.”
I nod, patting Sage on the back as I pass through the small house to the back porch. A long backyard is behind the place, and a net is stretched between two palm trees.
Edward became a kicker in high school with my brother Austin, and they won the school’s first state championship. The first of many.
I stand on the back porch watching him kick the ball with perfect form, sending a straight spiral directly into what would be uprights if the net didn’t stop it first.
It’s precisely perfect every time, and that’s what made him a first-round draft pick when he graduated college. He never missed.
I wait and watch him set up the ball in the holder, then I suck it up and say what I came to say.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is loud enough to reach him from where I stand, but not loud enough to be aggressive.
Edward punts the ball, and it flies straight and high, precisely where it should land to win the game.Kickers win games all the time, I can hear my dad saying.
He waits for a moment, watching after the pigskin has fallen, gazing at the bay.
“You think I don’t feel things because of my condition, but I do.” His chin drops, and he looks down at the sandy grass under his feet. “It was very difficult to give Cricket to that woman. It was very hard knowing you hated me for it.”
My insides hurt, and I walk down the wooden porch steps, covering the ground between us. “I was so relieved when you showed up to help me after Mom left. I knew I could trust you no matter what.”
He lifts his face, frowning as he meets my eyes. “I’d never let you down, Knox. Your little girl is our family, just like I am.”
Reaching out, I pull him in for the briefest hug—more of a chest bump with a light back pat. It doesn’t push his comfort zone, and it gives me a chance to show my affection.
I step back, crossing my arms. “Man, this whole situation has had me spiraling. I don’t think I’d have made it without your help. I should be thanking you.”
He blinks a few times then nods, giving me a hint of a smile. “You weren’t around babies growing up. They’re very loud and messy. Cricket’s one of the easier ones I’ve seen. A few of your cousins were much worse.”
“Damn, Edward.” I rub a hand over my stomach. “I know you’re my cousin, but you’re also like a big brother to me, like Austin. The worst part of all of this was being mad at you.”
He nods, not making eye contact. “It was hard for me, too. I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore.”
“Want to throw some passes?” I stand, going to where the ball sits at the bottom of the net. “It looks like I’ve got some catching up to do around here. What’s going on with Austin and Kimmie? Is she taking care of Callie now?”
Edward stands, walking to the other side of the yard, his brow furrowed. “Kim offered to be Austin’s nanny when he came back from Texas. We all thought it would be like when Aunt Dylan helped your dad… but it’s not. I don’t understand why people act the way they do. It seems like it would be simpler to say what’s on your mind.”
“Oh, Edward,” I shake my head, throwing a tight spiral into his waiting arms. “Life would be so much simpler if people said what was on their minds.”
“Why don’t they?” He lifts his arm and throws a tight spiral right back at me.
