Page 54 of Chess Not Checkers
“Hey, William.”
Willow’s tinkling laughter comes through the phone. “That never gets old, no matter what your brother thinks.”
“I agree,” I say with a smile. “You sound like everything is alright?” I phrase my statement like a question.
“Oh, yeah! I actually have great news. I got your parents to agree to come to the game this weekend!”
I stiffen. “That is great news.”
She sighs at the obvious tension in my voice. “I know things aren’t great between you guys, but they’re starting to try. I told them this was a big one and that we would be there, and they agreed to sit in the box with us. Since it’s a bye week for Jase, we can all get dinner together on Sunday as a family after you win.”
My chest feels like a linebacker is sitting on it. I rake a hand through my hair. With everything going on, the last thing I need is the pressure of not only my brother, but my parents watching.
Jasmine eyes me from where she’s standing at the stove. I don’t meet her gaze.
“That sounds nice,” I manage to get out.
“If you don’t want them there, I can tell them another weekend would be better. It’s not like they understand what games matter anyway.” I can picture her rolling her eyes. “But I think it would be good for you and Jason both to spend some time with them.”
When Willow married my brother, she started advocating for us both to my parents. Jason told me about how she stood up to our mom and called her out on being unsupportive. Since then, she’s been trying to rebuild our family, but I don’t know if it’s working. My parents still don’t care enough to learn anything about football or call more than once every couple of months to check in. Willow’s family is the opposite of ours, so I think she feels guilty that we don’t have what she does and is trying to make up for it. It’s a kind gesture, but I don’t think it’s going to end how she hopes.
I want to tell her no, but besides Jason, she’s the only family I have. If this is important to her, then it should be important to me.
“No, you’re right, it would be good to have them there. Thanks, Willow. You’re the best sister.”
“I’m always going to fight for you,” she says with a conviction that makes my eyes sting. If only I could tell her what she was fighting for is a lost cause and makes things worse for me.
“Thanks,” I choke out.
“I’ll see you this weekend, okay? It’s going to be great, I just know it. Love you, Shep.”
“Love you too, William,” I say, hearing her laugh again before we hang up.
I set the phone down on the counter. Jasmine started sautéing the onions, and that’s the only sound in the kitchen for a little while. I scrub my hands over my face, thankful I cleaned the flour off it earlier so it wouldn’t be in my eyes.
“You okay?” Jasmine asks softly.
I sigh. “Not really, no.” I look at her and note the concern in her gaze. “I want to tell you why, but it feels dumb after what you told me about your life.”
She frowns. “You can tell me anything. Just because I had something terrible happen in my life, doesn’t mean you have to hold back.”
I take in a breath, the tension in my chest making it difficult. I know I’ll feel better if I get it out. “My parents aren’t supportive of me playing football—or in general, really. They made sure we had what we needed when we were younger, but they never went beyond that. No family dinners or game nights or matching T-shirts.”
Something in Jasmine’s expression makes me think she’s experienced all those things and more.
“When Willow married my brother, she started trying to get them to come to games and be more involved. They agreed to come this weekend. Which I should be happy about, but—” I push my hands into my hair and tug on the roots. “I’m not. Iwish they weren’t coming. And I kind of wish Jason wasn’t going to be there either.” I shake my head, letting out a bitter laugh. “All I ever wanted was a big family to come to my games, but now that I’m going to have that, I feel like I can’t breathe.”
I rasp in a breath. Jasmine reaches up. Her hands frame my face, grounding me. I meet her shining emerald eyes.
“You’re okay,” she murmurs. “Breathe with me.”
She draws in an audible breath, and I follow her. After we take a few together, she removes her hands. But before I can mourn the loss of her touch, she wraps her arms around my waist in a tight hug. I tense at the surprising gesture, then wrap my arms around her and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry your parents didn’t love you the way you deserved,” she says against my chest.
I can’t tell if her words are ripping me apart or putting me back together. My heart is racing, and I wonder if she can hear it.
“You don’t owe them anything. You don’t have to spend time with them or talk to them. But if you want a future with them in it, then I think your sister-in-law did the right thing.”
