Keeping Score (Brooklyn Monarchs 3)

That quickly, everything returned to normal. Warrick released his mother’s elbow. “I had no idea you were proud of me.”

“Of course we are.” John gave up his vigilant watch over the hallway.

In his peripheral vision, Warrick saw Marilyn shake her head.

“I guess I should have read that in between your telling me Marlon Burress was making a fool of me and I was failing the team.” Warrick couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his tone.

John shrugged. “I’m hard on you because I don’t want you to become complacent. You’re in the NBA. Great. But that shouldn’t be the end of it.”

Kerri finally sat in the nearby armchair. She cradled her purse in her lap. “Other people can feed your ego—your fans, the media, Mary.” His mother sent a smile in his wife’s direction before returning her attention to him.

Warrick dragged a hand across his forehead. “You may not have noticed, Mom, but the fans and the media haven’t exactly been kind lately.”

Kerri’s brows knitted. “That’s true. Still, as your parents, it’s our job to keep you grounded and remind you that you’re not perfect.”

“I never thought I was. I’m thirty-four years old. I probably never will be.”

His mother rose from the chair and crossed to him. She cupped his cheek with her hand. “But you’re pretty darn close.”

Warrick gave her a wry smile. “Any chance you and Dad could ease up on me?”

Kerri dropped her hand and turned to her h

usband. “John?”

His father gave him a curt nod. “But don’t let the championship ring go to your head. Come on, Kerri. Let’s go home.”

Warrick walked with his parents to the front door. He sensed Marilyn following behind him. “We’ve only played two games against the Nuggets and we split those wins.”

“Work harder.” John tossed the command over his shoulder.

Warrick smiled at his parent’s standard response. “Thanks, Dad.”

The encounter was surreal. All of his life, his parents had made him feel as though he wasn’t good enough. Today, he learned they were trying to keep him from getting an ego. They’d done their job almost too well.

Once he and Marilyn had bid his parents farewell, Warrick locked the front door and turned to her. “What are the odds of our parents coming to our house at the same time?”

“Your mother said she hadn’t heard from you in a week. You weren’t returning her calls.”

He evaded the question in her eyes. “And your parents?”

She shrugged. “My mother probably thought she’d have more influence over me if she made a personal appearance.”

“She underestimated you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s true.”

Her parents had underestimated Marilyn when they thought they could forbid her from marrying him. Almost three years later, they were still miscalculating the strength of her will. Her parents, her best friend, even the hospital and the clinic partners had tried to come between them. But Marilyn had stood by him despite all of that pressure.

Wasn’t that evidence that their love was enough? How much more proof did she need?

Marilyn tilted her head and offered him a smile. “Congratulations.”

Warrick straightened from the door. “We lost Friday.”

“You won Wednesday. Game one on Denver’s home court. You looked unstoppable.”