“We all miss shots,” I tell her. “You kept going. Because of that, we won the championship.”
“Did you play sports?” Evie asks Connor, attempting to fill the silence.
He laughs. “Not really. I mean, I ran track because it was another extracurricular I could add to my college applications. I was always more of the studious type. In high school, I got involved with the debate team and student government, and never looked back.”
As he talks, I can’t help thinking about everything else I know regarding his upbringing. Connor is the youngest of three brothers. His father also worked in finance, while his mother was a homemaker with a hefty trust fund. They lived in the Manning area because family was nearby, but summers were spent on the beach in Delaware. Now retired, his parents live at the beach house full-time, and his brothers have moved away to bigger cities. Connor is the only one still clinging to his hometown. Sometimes I wonder if, after the wedding, we’ll move away to some place bigger and better, where we can start the next chapter of our lives.
He takes his eyes off the road for just a second, smiling at me. He squeezes my knee. “Never would have thought I’d end up with a professional athlete.”
Evie laughs, in that giddy way young girls do. I’ve never heard Evie talk about boys, but like most teenagers, she must think about them, imagine what her life will one day look like with a partner. Something tells me the glimpses she’s had of Connor and I interacting are the closest she’s ever come to seeing a healthy relationship.
“Keep up the good work, and you could snag a scholarship just like Cass,” Connor says. I’m pleased with his attempts to inspire her.
“You really think so?” Evie says to me.
“You’re a lot better than I was at your age,” I answer, honestly. “You’ve already impressed everyone at Manning Academy.”
Evie looks into her lap, smiling. It isn’t lost on me how important it is for a girl like her to hear these words of encouragement. The other players on the team grew up like Connor, financial and emotional support readily available, an endless array of resources at their fingertips.
“You can drop me off here,” Evie says, as we approach her house.
Connor pulls into the driveway anyway. The headlights illuminate the small house made of dingy white panels with an oddly sloped roof. A concrete slab lines the front, but there is no guardrail or staircase leading to the front door. All the windows are dark.
“Your mom still isn’t home from work?” I ask Evie.
“She should be,” she says, grabbing her duffel bag. “If she isn’t now, she will be soon.”
Without thinking, I exit the car. Connor shoots me a warning, a silent request for me to be careful. Local boy or not, he’s probably never been to this side of town. Part of him must want me to get back into the car so we can leave, but I won’t do that until I know Evie is safe.
“I can wait with you until she gets here,” I say to her.
“Don’t. It’s already a late night.”
“Like I said, it’s hard for me to sleep after a big win.” Slowly, we walk toward the house. “Was everything okay back there at the Waffle Shack?”
“What do you mean?”
“It seemed a little tense between you and the other girls,” I say.
“We were just playing around,” she says.
“Beatrice said you were watching clips of the game on her phone,” I continue to push. “Whatever it was seemed to bother you. Was she showing you something else?”
She pauses, as though she’s on the verge of saying more. She opens her mouth to speak when something in front of us grabs our attention.
The porch light turns on, and the front door opens. Evie’s mother stands in front of us. She was home after all.
“I just got my phone charged up,” she says. “I was about to head to the Waffle Shack.”
“It’s not a problem,” I say, offering a friendly smile.
Evie suddenly seems tense, and I’m not sure if it’s because her mother’s presence startled us, or because she regrets having lost the opportunity to speak to me further.
I nudge Evie’s shoulder. “Share the good news.”
“We won,” Evie says, gripping the strap to her duffel bag.
“That’s great.” Evie’s mother crosses her arms, leaning against the door frame. She doesn’t take a step closer to her daughter. “Hate that I had to miss it.”