Page 109 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“It was alright. A bit awkward at the start, but then it was normal,” she replies, her eyes flicking to Chad before returning to me.

“I bet. Did they ask about him or mention his name?”

She shakes her head, her expression calm, but her fingers fidgeting slightly. “No, but I called beforehand. Told them what Chad knows and doesn’t know.”

“And they were okay with that?”

“They understand it’s about what’s best for Chad. It’s not about us.”

I reach out, resting my hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The tension in her muscles tells me how much she’s been dealing with, and I’ve been dying to be close to her. But work has pulled me away, and she’s been busy with the second round of interviews. We both have so much going on.

“Have you heard from agents about your offer?” I ask, remembering our text conversation about the condo.

“Yeah, we’re in negotiations. Hoping to move to inspections soon.”

I nod, then turn to Chad, who’s completely absorbed in the game preparations. His eyes are fixed on the court, taking in every detail. Seeing the game through his eyes makes me realize how much I’ve taken for granted, the bright lights, the rowdy crowd, and the energy of this place. It’s all new and overwhelming for him, and I can’t help but smile at the memory of my first game at his age. I glance over at Jemima, and she’s just as entranced, her face lit up in wonder.

Around us, all the fans are wearing team colors, either blue and orange, or black and white. I spot a vendor selling jerseys and head straight for it. The vendor grins as he hands me three shirts, commenting on how good we look as a family. I can’t help but smile as I glance at Jemima. She shuffles from foot to foot beside me, her eyes flicking to the vendor, and her mouth parts as if she’s about to say something... but she doesn’t. Instead, she takes the jersey I hand her and slips one on. I help Chad into his, then ruffle his hair as he beams up at me.

With our new jerseys on, we blend into the crowd as we grab some food.

Hot dogs in hand, we settle into the chairs as the air around us grows with more charge in the anticipation of the team to hit the court. The billboards and neon lights stand out.

“What are those?” Chad asks, pointing.

“Cheerleaders,” Jemima answers.

“Or do you mean the mascot?” I ask.

“No silly, I know what that is.” Chad laughs, like I said something funny.

We watch and cheer as the mascots goof around. When the players finally come out for warmups, the stadium erupts into the loudest cheer. Chad sits up. “Cool, bro,” he says, his grin spreading wide.

I look over at Jemima and notice a hint of a smile lifts on the corner of her lips. The music pumps through the speakers, loud and upbeat, and Jemima leans closer to Chad and asks, “Are your ears okay?”

I didn’t think about his ears…

“Do you need me to find earplugs?” I offer. “I’ll get some delivered if they don’t have them here.”

“No, I love it,” Chad responds, his eyes never leaving the court.

“Well, if you change your mind, just let me know,” I say, the protective edge in my voice surprising even me.

The game starts, and we’re all swept up in the fast-paced action, our eyes glued to the players as they sprint across the polished wood floor. A timeout is called, and the camera labelled the “Kiss Cam” starts scanning the crowd. It swings our way and lands on Jemima and me. The crowd erupts in cheers and encourages us on.

“Kiss him, Mom!” Chad shouts from beside her, his voice clear and full of innocent command.

Jemima’s eyes widen, darting from Chad to me.

“You better do what he says,” I whisper into her ear, my heart pounding as I flash her a crooked grin.

Her eyes lock onto mine as a flush spreads across her face and neck, her hesitation only lasting a second before she leans in, and our lips meet. The crowd roars, Chad cheers, and for a moment, it’s just us. When we pull away, I can’t help but grin. The camera moves to another couple. I stare at Jemima, but she turns to Chad, checking on him.

He just encouraged us to kiss. Does this mean he’s okay with us? My head is spinning, trying to process the moment. I’ve never needed anyone’s approval like this before, but Chad’s reaction means everything.

My chest puffs, and who knew that a kid could make or break your day based on simple things.

The game resumes, and the intensity heats up as the final minutes tick down. We’re down by two points. Chad jumps up and down in his seat, shouting encouragement, and Jemima and I chime in.

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