Page 80 of Love & Streetball

“I’d be out there all night practicing, being extra. He didn’t care for the sport, but bought me a hoop and ball anyway. I even caught him watching from the kitchen window sometimes.”

I swallowed.

“I uh…He never told me he was proud of me…for all that I’ve accomplished…but I uh…I just hope I made him happy.”

“He was, baby!” my grandmother shouted, waving a frail arm.

“Me and my father had some things we needed to work through. And I been sitting here all week trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with that now.”

Slim watched me from the front row, her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“I don’t have an answer,” I admitted. “I just wish I could talk to him.”

My voice cracked.

I lowered my head, trying to breathe, and heard Mama begin crying again.

“I love you, Daddy.”

That was all I could get out.

After the burial, I sat in the backseat of the truck with my tie hanging loose and the door open. People were still gathered near the gravesite. I could hear them talking about coming to Mama’s house, asking who needed a ride, figuring out where somebody had parked.

Slim stood between my knees.

“Your mama’s riding with your grandmother,” she said. “I told her we’d be right behind them.”

I nodded.

She brushed her thumb beneath my eye, catching a tear before it reached my jaw.

“I feel fucked up,” I told her, grabbing the sides of her waist.

“About what, baby?” Slim frowned.

I stared down at her sandals.

“When Mama first called, I thought some foul shit. About him not accepting you. Like this was his karma or something.”

Slim stayed quiet while I forced the rest out.

“I was hurting, and I was mad, but that shit still went through my head.”

She lifted my chin gently.

“You were trying to make sense of something that hurt you.”

“He ain’t deserve to die.”

“No,” she said softly. “He didn’t.”

“I wanted him to apologize to you.”

Her fingers moved over the back of my head.

“I know,” Slim whispered.

“You deserved that.”