Page 61 of The Do-Over
“But you remember the game?”
He frowned. “I remember playing,” he said. “Not all of it, but…flashes.”
“Talk through your memories.
“The other team had bright red uniforms—they had to wear colors because they were the visiting team, and we were in our whites. I remember thinking that their uniforms were kind of ugly. I remember that the guy I was assigned to guard had his arm taped, and I was paying attention to that because I didn’t want to jostle it and aggravate the injury during the game.”
“That was nice of you.”
“I remember the last few moments, when the game clock was winding down and it was kind of sinking in with all of us that we were going to lose. I looked over at the visitors’ bench, and of course they were celebrating. And then I looked at my coach—”
“Do you remember his name?”
Rob shook his head slowly.
“Marshall.”
The name seemed to slot into place in Rob’s mind. “That’s right! Coach Marshall!”
As he said the words, it felt as if a locked corner of his mind had opened up. More memories swam to the surface.
Sitting down to a team dinner with Coach Marshall, all of them in their suits and ties, acting like adults and trying to rise to the formality of the occasion—but actually feeling like children stepping into adult roles for the first time.
The coach embracing him after a big win, not caring that Rob was covered in sweat from forty minutes of hard play.
Running touch drills at practice with Coach Marshall shouting orders to them.
“He was a good coach,” Rob said aloud.
“Yeah, I imagine he was great, since he got the team to the Final Four,” Thea said. “Do you remember being there?”
“No, I don’t remember anything about that.”
“Try looking at the next picture.”
He did.
The next picture was obviously of the team’s journey to the Final Four. There was a small shot in the corner of them on what Rob thought was Larrimore’s home court—they were holding the regional championship trophy and grinning. In the larger photo, they were kneeling in front of an NCAA logo. Rob scanned the picture and found himself.
“You don’t remember this being taken?” Thea asked.
“No,” Rob murmured. “I have no memory of this at all. It doesn’t feel like it happened to me.”
It felt like it couldn’t have happened to him. If he’d been to the Final Four he would remember it, wouldn’t he? How could his mind erase something so significant?
Well, it did erase my entire career. Not to mention the fact that I have no idea what happened to drive me and Thea apart. There must have been something.
If he could lose those things, losing a few basketball games wasn’t so hard to believe, even if they were the biggest games of his life.
He looked up at Thea. She was watching him carefully.
“We can stop for the day if you want,” she said. “I know this is a lot.”
Rob nodded slowly. “I think I’d like that,” he said. “Not that I don’t appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to here. It really is amazing.” He reached over and rested a hand on top of hers without thinking.
She allowed that for a moment, then carefully pulled away.
Rob felt himself flush. He kept doing things like that, touching her as if nothing had changed between them. He found it so comforting to be in her presence at a time like this, when everything was so confused and wrong. It felt natural to reach out to her the way he had when they were together.
