Violet shrugged. “You’re the boss. You can do whatever you like. What do you want?”
Jaclyn moved her steamed vegetables and rice around the gold-trimmed, white china plate. What did she want? She’d already ensured the team would stay in Brooklyn. “I want to make my grandfather proud. I want to restore the Monarchs to its winning tradition. I want someone to offer Gerry a well-paying, prestigious job in another country.”
Violet chuckled. “What about Marc?”
That one wasn’t as easy. She wanted their shared passion for basketball during the day and their passion for each other all night. But she couldn’t go back to the way they had been, because he’d only embraced one part of her. “I want to know whether he can accept all of me, his boss and his lover.”
Violet shrugged again. “So ask him.”
Jaclyn shoved the fingers of her right hand through her hair. “I don’t think he knows. I don’t think he understands there’s more to me than the woman he wants to sleep with.”
“You said he told you he’d take the Monarchs to the play-offs to prove that you matter to him and your team matters more to him than his image.”
“That’s what he said.” Jaclyn drank more iced tea.
“Then, sweetie, he does understand. Apparently, better than you understand yourself.”
DeMarcus heard his father’s footsteps behind him before Julian spoke. “You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”
“It’s already here, Pop.”
Brooklyn Monarchs versus New York Knicks. Win or go home. DeMarcus crossed his arms over his black Monarchs jersey and considered the early-morning scene outside their sitting room’s bay window. It was after one o’clock Wednesday morning. Still, there were lights on in other houses and cars cruising down the street.
Brooklynites had welcomed spring and turned their clocks ahead almost a month ago. Blossoms replaced the ice that had imprisoned tree limbs at the beginning of the season.
His father came to stand beside him. “You’ve done everything you could to prepare for the game tonight except sleep.”
DeMarcus glanced at his father. The older man wore his blue and red flannel robe over his pajamas. Black slippers covered his feet. “Why are you up?”
Julian slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe. “I was thinking about the game, too. When I heard you come downstairs, I figured we could think about it together.”
DeMarcus smiled and returned his attention to the view of his neighborhood. “A win tonight will move us into eighth place in the Eastern Conference and guarantee us a play-off berth.”
“Thanks to your ten-and-three run, you’re in control of your destiny.”
“We’re playing in Madison Square Garden.” DeMarcus brought an image of the venue to mind. “The Knicks will have home court advantage.”
“They’ve already clinched a play-off spot. This game doesn’t mean as much to them as it means to the Monarchs.”
DeMarcus shook his head. “This is a cross-borough rivalry. We can’t fool ourselves that they won’t bring the heat.” He turned to meet his father’s eyes. “I wish Mom were here. Win or lose, I’d want her to see this game.”
Julian put his hand on DeMarcus’s shoulder. “So would I.”
He couldn’t put off any longer the question Jaclyn had urged him to ask his father months ago. “Did she know how much I appreciated all the sacrifices you both made for me?”
“Your mother knew everything.” The older man managed a smile. “She said you always called early in the day when you were lonely and later in the evening when you just wanted to talk.”
DeMarcus chuckled. “I’d talk about nothing just to hear her voice or to make her laugh.”
Julian dropped his hand from DeMarcus’s shoulder. “This house had a lot more laughter when your mother was alive. And then when Jackie came into the picture.”
DeMarcus stared out the window again. “I came back to Brooklyn because I wanted to be with you. I agreed to coach the
Monarchs to honor Mom. But this win tonight against the Knicks will be for Jack.”
“What are you doing for yourself?”
DeMarcus grinned. “Beating the Knicks. That way I get the win and the woman.”