Page 24

Jamil

After a little over a week of sleeping in a hotel room, I was happy to wake up in my own bed and go about my normal routine of breakfast, a nice workout, and sorting through my emails from my agent.

When I first started in this league, I thought the grandeur of it all would never get old—traveling six months out of the year, seeing a new city or two every week, all while playing for a stadium full of people cheering for you.

Somewhere in the mix of it I’d taken my rose-tinted glasses off.

I watched my teammates show up to work and enjoy their time playing the game, but when things got too hard, they got to go home to their families.

No matter where I went, whether it was home or the field, there was no reprieve for me.

Maybe today that would change.

Jordan had already called me earlier this morning to let me know he’d gotten approval to leave the facility today for lunch. He’d asked if we could order pizza to my place and play video games together, just like we’d done on Friday nights in high school.

I had just hung up with South Side after placing an order for delivery when Jordan emerged from the facility.

I still remembered the first day I watched him walk in.

It was a Monday morning I’d never forget.

Jordan had managed to pick the lock on my safe I kept in my house with extra cash and my emergency credit cards.

He’d taken everything to Vegas and had gone on a bender, only to end up on my doorstep three days later with tears in his eyes as he fell into my arms. I had booked him in to this place by that evening.

Now here we were almost three years later. Jordan had been in and out of this place twice, never staying long enough for anything to really stick—earlier this season being a perfect example. But this time felt different. This time would be different.

“Congrats on the three series sweeps.” Jordan and I were nearly carbon copies of each other, down to the smile. Our mother used to say I was so enthralled with him as a kid that I must have learned every one of his mannerisms.

“Thanks, man,” I told him, reaching over to give him a hug. “The pizza will probably arrive just after we do.”

Jordan rubbed his hands together with excitement. “Nothing like South Side, I’ll tell you that. I saw Tommy post about a charity event with the Boys & Girls Club tonight. Are you going?”

“I am. I’ll have to start getting ready around four, but that should give us plenty of time to hang out before I need to get you back.”

The edges of my brother’s smile dimmed at the mention of having to go back this afternoon, but the disappointment was gone as quick as it had come. “Bringing anyone?”

“Actually, I am.” I rolled my eyes at the look of surprise on Jordan’s face. “What?”

“You’re just not normally one to go to public events with someone like that. You’re more the meet-someone-in-a-bar-and-take-them-home type or you’ll flirt with a girl outside of the stadium long enough to be satisfied.”

I cringed at being painted in such an unflattering light, but I couldn’t argue that he was wrong. I’d never been that serious when it came to relationships because my job, my friendships, and my family had always been enough for me. But now the cracks were showing in two of those three things.

“We met in Florida during spring training.” I didn’t miss the raised eyebrow of judgment he sent my way or the assumption clear as day in his eyes. “Yes, it was a one-night stand.”

“And she’s in Chicago now?” Jordan asked me.

“Coincidentally, yes. For work.”

“And you like her?”

I looked over at my brother once we’d come to a stop at a red light. “Yeah, a lot actually.”

“Who would have thought you’d be the first one to get serious with someone?”

His face was stricken with pain. “You’ll find someone, Jordan.” The light turned green and I turned away from him.

“I’ve got to fix myself first, J.” Jordan’s eyes looked almost hollow when I glanced over at him.

It was strange watching someone you love continue to hurt themselves the way my brother had, even when all they wanted to do was stop.

I pulled my car into the garage and cut the ignition. “As long as you continue to take rehab seriously and we’ve got to do something about your debt.”

The air in the car grew heavy with everything he’d been through hanging between us. Jordan cleared his throat. “Let’s go get the console set up while we wait on the pizza.”

The sound of the passenger door slamming echoed through the garage as my brother disappeared inside of the house.

I let out a long breath and forced myself to count to sixty before following him.

It felt like it was always one step forward, three steps back when it came to him, and the climb was becoming exhausting.

My brother, however, was not in the living room where my gaming console was when I followed him inside.

“Jordan?” I called out.

No answer.

“Jordan?” I tried again.

But this time, the doorbell rang before I could start looking for him. Standing on my front porch was the pizza delivery guy—a young teenager that looked like he’d had his license for maybe a week.

“You’re Jamil Edman,” the kid stammered as he clutched my pizza in his hands.

I sighed. “Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you. Do you want an autograph or something?”

“I—I—I .?.?.,” the poor kid floundered like a fish out of water as he tried to untangle his thoughts while he stared at me with eyes as round as that pizza I desperately wanted to eat.

“Do you have a phone?” My brother appeared behind me and reached an open hand toward the delivery guy.

“Yeah, yes. I do. Here, one second. Let me get it.” The kid fumbled to find his phone and I reached out to grab the pizza box from his hands before it ended up on the ground.

Jordan took the pizza and the kid’s phone that he offered up. “Alright, get in close.”

I looped my arm around the kid’s shoulders.

Did I like having to take pictures outside of my own home with the delivery guy?

No. But I knew every fan I met supported me, cheered for me, and paid their hard-earned dollars to come to games.

No matter how I was feeling on the matter, I wanted to make sure the few seconds or minutes they got with me were worth it.

“Here, hold on.” I turned over the back of my copy of the receipt and scribbled my signature on it before thrusting it into the kid’s hands along with a large tip that made his eyes go even wider. “This is for you.”

“Oh, man. Thank you!” The smile on the kid’s face as he backed off my front steps made the entire encounter a little less painful. “Good luck at the next home game. I’ve got tickets. My friends won’t believe this. You’re the best!”

Each sentence blended into the next until he’d shut himself inside his car and drove away.

“I’m not sure I’d ever get tired of that,” Jordan mused as he turned around and walked toward the kitchen to grab some plates for the pizza.

“You would think it wouldn’t,” I told him, trying to hold back another sigh.

Jordan put a few slices of pizza down on both of our plates. “People would kill to be in the position you are in.”

“You don’t think I know that?” My voice came out deadly low as I walked over to the island to grab my plate. “Everything looks amazing when you’re only looking at it all from the outside through a keyhole. But there’s more than just that small view that makes up the job.”

“Life could be so much worse, J,” Jordan continued as we walked over to the living room.

Heat rushed to my face as anger grew inside of me. Who was Jordan to tell me what I could and couldn’t be tired of? And why wasn’t he on my side?

“Let’s just play video games,” I ground out, trying to keep any outbursts from happening. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin the little time we had together. “Where were you earlier when you first walked in? I called out for you.”

Jordan took a bite of his pizza and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I was in the bathroom. Here’s your controller.”

I took the controller from him and settled back into my couch, ignoring the voice in my head that questioned if my brother was lying to me.

It wouldn’t be the first time, not even close.

Jordan had broken my trust a long time ago and had yet to prove to me that he was attempting to rebuild it.

I hated myself for assuming Jordan was up to something the moment he disappeared.

Today was proof he was trying to change his life.

“How are things going?” I asked cautiously. It was never clear how Jordan would react to the mention of therapy or the work he did at the facility. Often it ended up with him shutting down completely.

“I’m starting to not hate going to therapy, so I feel like that’s a start.” Jordan’s attention was already on the video game, but I knew that was the only way to get him to talk about anything serious.

“Have you thought about what you want to do after you get through the program?” These conversations felt like I was walking through a war zone with bombs waiting to go off at any time.

“I’ve debated on moving back to Florida.”

The admission wasn’t what I had been expecting.

Jordan had left Florida with me the moment he could, feeling trapped within our hometown with nothing for him to grow into.

I never thought he’d want to go back. Mom would be excited to have her baby with her again.

She’d never admitted it, but having two of her kids halfway across the country from her was like she was operating with only half of her heart.

“Is there something down there that you are wanting to do?” Jordan had never gotten a job when he moved to Chicago. He relied solely on me and, somehow, I’d allowed him to. The only way Jordan was ever going to move forward with his life was if I stopped enabling him.

My brother screwed his mouth to the side as he contemplated my question. Even the small bit of hesitation sent fear through me that he was going to go down to Florida and put our parents in the same situation he put me in. “Dad said I could come work for him if I ever wanted to.”

Our father owned a lumber yard down in Tampa.

It was one of the largest lumber yards in the area.

The work was often physically demanding with long hours—the exact opposite of what I pictured Jordan wanting to do.

But I only wanted him to start living a better life, no matter what he chose to do with it.

“That’s a great idea, man. Dad would probably love to have you around, so would Mom.”

I tried not to read too much into the sag of my brother’s shoulders or the faraway look in his eyes that stayed long after our conversation ended.

*

“He said he’d come work for your father?

” my mother asked incredulously. I’d dialed her the moment I’d dropped Jordan back off at the facility.

I left out how I wasn’t completely sure if Jordan was all in with his treatment because my mother had already gone through enough disappointment when it came to her eldest child, I didn’t need to give her another reason.

“That was what he said,” I told her as I drove back to my place. I glanced at the clock on my dash, mentally calculating how much time I’d have to get ready before I’d have to pick up Harper for the gala.

“And he was serious?” The shock in her voice mirrored how I felt when I’d first heard Jordan’s plans.

“I think so, Mom.”

There was a long pause, long enough I thought the call had dropped before she spoke again.

“He seems happier?”

My stomach clenched. I hated the pain she was going through, and I hated my brother for putting her through this.

“He was in the best mood I’d seen in months.”

My mother let out a sigh on the other end of the line. It felt like she was releasing years of pent-up worry she had over Jordan right in that very moment.

“Maybe I should come visit him for a little while. Do you think you could give your mom one of your spare bedrooms for a week?” I rolled my eyes at her question. She knew I had more rooms than I knew what to do with in my house and that she could have one at the drop of a hat.

“I’d love to have you. Maybe you can come see a home game if it lines up with when you want to come out.” I loved my mom and sometimes it was nice to just have her around again, like old times.

“What about the rest of this week? You have a string of home games over the next two weeks. I think I can catch a flight up to Chicago tomorrow.”

“You know where the key is, Mom,” I told her as I pulled back into my driveway.

She laughed and it sounded like music to my ears to hear her happy. “I’m so proud of you, baby. And so excited to see you soon. You’ve been shouldering everything with Jordan by yourself for too long. Maybe it’s time all that effort pays off and he turns his life around.”

“I hope so, Mom. I really do.”