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That starts a chain reaction as all the guys stand and say their goodbyes. “I’m glad you’re here, brother,” Caleb says, leaning his head back against his chair and staring up at the night sky. “Going to be a good season with us on the same team.” He holdshis hand out for me to bump, and I don’t disappoint, making a fist and pressing it against his.
“Yeah,” I agree. “The guys all seem nice. I expected training camp to be a bitch, but everyone was pretty chill.”
“They are,” he agrees. He starts to say something else when his phone rings. “It’s Joey,” he says, referring to his little sister. “Hey, sis,” he answers.
I’ve met Josephine Henderson a handful of times while we were in college. She’s four or so years younger than us, so she was graduating from high school as we were leaving college. She’s a cute girl, if my memory serves me correctly.
“You have a key. Just come on in. You know where your room is.” He pauses. “Do you need me to come and get you?” Another pause. “Are you sure?”
My curiosity is piqued for sure. It sounds like Josephine, or Joey as Caleb calls her, might be coming for a visit.
“All right. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Everything all right?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think so. That was my sister. She’s coming to visit.”
“Unplanned?”
He nods. “That’s not like her, but she said she just needs a break. We both know that our dad and her mom aren’t good options.”
“Definitely not,” I agree. Their family history is messy and all kinds of complicated. Caleb and Josephine have the same father but different mothers. The two of them have forged their own little tight-knit family that excludes their parents.
“What’s she doing these days?” I ask him.
“She works at some big-wig advertising firm in Springfield. She’s wicked smart with all that marketing shit.” He finishes off his water before placing the lid back on the bottle. “I hate that she’s two and a half hours away, but she loves what she does, and she’s damn good at it. She’s moved up the ladder pretty quicklyin the short amount of time that she’s been there. She started right out of college, and now she’s a junior something or other. Don’t tell her I can’t remember her job title,” he jokes.
“Good for her.”
“I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You getting old on me, Henderson?” I call him out, using his last name.
“Fuck off.” He laughs. “I’ll see your ugly mug in the morning.” With that, he stands and heads toward the back door.
“Night, my man,” I say with a wave. I should probably head inside as well, but it’s nice out, and the fire is still blazing. The last several weeks have been hectic from getting traded and starting training camp with a new team two days later. It took some time to get into the groove with my new teammates on the field, well, everyone except for Caleb. He and I just work together like a well-oiled machine. Now, here I am, a few days away from the first preseason game of the year.
It’s going to be weird for me not to wear a Thunder jersey, but so far, the trade has been good. I do need to find my own place to live, but Caleb insists that my staying with him is fine. I agreed to stay through the season. I’ll have more time once the season is over to look at houses and decide where I want to live. I also still need to sell my place in Chicago. It’s on the market, but as of right now, no takers. It’s in a private gated community, so maybe one of the new recruits to the Thunder will be interested. Hell, half of my neighbors were my Thunder teammates.
I don’t know how long I’m out here staring at the stars when my phone rings. Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I see my mom’s name. “Hello.”
“Brock, is everything okay?”
Her mom-dar is always on full alert. “Yeah. I’m just sitting out here around the fire. The guys left, and Caleb went to bed. I’m just relaxing.”
“Good. How was the training camp? I only got to talk to you for a little bit the other day.”
My mother’s “little bit” was actually almost an hour. “It was good. The team is tight. Took some time to mesh with everyone, but we finally found our groove.”
“Oh, good. I was worried about how that was going to play out.”
“What are you doing up this late?” I ask, pulling the phone away from my ear so I can check the time.
“I worked a late shift. I just got home. I was hoping I would get lucky and you’d still be up.”
“Mom.” I sigh. “I’ve told you that you can quit that job. Let me take care of you.”
“I will do no such thing, Brock Andrew Williams,” she scolds.
