Camy Tang - Sushi for One?

“I’m your assistant coach, and you’re not coaching them well.”

“What do you mean?”

“What are your real motivations for pushing them? Is this about them? Or about you?”

“I have no clue what you’re getting at.”

“Look, I know that your mom used to coach these girls’ mothers. I know why you formed this club team.”

“You only think you know.” Coming from Vince’s mouth, it seemed like such a sad, pathetic thing for her to do – something in honor of her mother.

“Getting the girls to win isn’t going to bring your mother back.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.”

“It seems like that’s what you’re trying to do.”

Lex rolled her eyes. “You are way off the mark, Vince. I’ve been having back problems, and it’s making me crabby. Should I admit that I’m PMSing too?”

“Now you’re making excuses to validate your denial.”

With a gust of frustration, Lex marched toward her car. “Goodnight, Vince.”

She had driven almost half a mile away when she realized she’d left her purse under the bleacher seat. She turned the car around, ignoring that alarming sputtering from the engine.

Vince’s accusations horrified her. Bring her mother back? Now that was just morbid.

Except… did a part of her sort of think that way? Did a part of her want to be here for these girls because her mother had been forced to abandon her old volleyball team, to abandon Lex years ago?

Mom had cancer. It wasn’t her fault.

But Lex had still felt abandoned. And she drove these girls and sacrificed for them because she didn’t want to abandon them either.

Oh, come on. This was stupid. Lex would not fall into some psychoanalysis pit. She was too complicated to compartmentalize like this.

She pulled into the parking lot. Another car had pulled next to Vince’s. It looked like Jennifer’s truck. No, it couldn’t be. Jennifer didn’t even know Vince. Lex got out and headed toward the gym.

Vince had company. She heard the voices as she approached the open gym doorway.

“Mrs. Sakai got you that coaching position at Olympic Boys’ School.”

Mrs. Sakai – Grandma? Coaching position? And that voice sounded a lot like Jennifer. Lex slowed her steps.

“Good. Tell her thanks.”

“The job starts in a couple weeks. You’ll honor your agreement with her and quit this job by then, right?”

What? Vince couldn’t quit. Lex needed him for playoffs. A volcano erupted in the pit of her stomach, with rolling, pitching, acidic heaving. She wanted to spew lava at somebody. Or two.

“This isn’t a real job, just volunteer. But yeah, I’ll quit.”

Traitor. Betrayer.

“Olympic Boys’ School will contact you this week about starting.” Jennifer’s voice moved closer to the doorway.

Burning, Lex stepped into the gym.

She stood nose to nose with her cousin. Jenn gasped and jumped back. Vince paled, but straightened.

Lex didn’t know what she looked like, but she certainly felt as lethal as Medusa. She pointed a venomous gaze at Vince. “Our conversation tonight wasn’t about me. It was you justifying leaving the girls, you slime.”

“You’re not going to have funding for playoffs anyway.” Vince picked up his bag and pushed his way out the door.

Lex skewered Jennifer with a jagged-edged stare. “Since when did you become Grandma’s messenger girl?”

Jennifer’s lip trembled. Her face screwed up tightly.

“No, no, no. Tears aren’t going to get you out of this one, Jenn.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

Lex started. Jenn yelling was like Grandma being quiet.

Jenn started sobbing in earnest. “Grandma’s over at our house all the time, asking about you. I stopped calling you so I wouldn’t have anything to tell her.”

“Grandma nagging is different from this. You betrayed me.”

“You still don’t get it.” Jenn snuffled loudly. “You’re strong. I’m not. It wasn’t just Grandma – it was Mom and Dad and my sisters. Grandma complains to them about you, so they complain to me.”

“This was their idea?”

“No, it was Grandma’s.”

“Figures.”

“They bullied me into doing this.”

“You could have said no.” But even as she accused her, Lex knew Jennifer never told her overbearing family no.

“No, I couldn’t.” Jenn started heaving with sobs. “I don’t control anything in my life anymore.”

“Jenn, I’m stranded and you betrayed me. You should have come to me instead of going to my assistant coach behind my back, arranging for Grandma to buy him off.”

Jenn shook her head and kept crying.

Her tears only fed Lex’s fire. “What could your family have done to you? You know who’s going to suffer? These junior high girls.” Lex turned away. “They don’t deserve any of this. I’m doing my best.”

“Grandma heard you were trying to find another sponsor.”

“I’m trying to save them.”

“Grandma wants you to have a boyfriend.”

“Grandma wants more great-grandchildren. Her immortality. A boyfriend is a means to an end.” Lex pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’m really trying, Jenn. I have one more month before the wedding, but you’ve just made things more difficult for me. You’ve made things harder for those girls.”

Jennifer sniffed.

“Just leave.” Lex went to grab her purse from the bleachers. When she turned around, Jennifer had gone.

Aiden took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He felt like an interloper as he entered. “Pastor, we met – ”

“I remember.” The pastor waved Aiden inside.

No cheesy smiles, nothing even remotely resembling a salesman selling something. The pastor gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

“I’m Aiden.” No last name. “I came to see the mural again.”

“Go ahead.”

It kicked Aiden in the gut, just like before, actual physical pain. He never expected it from a mere picture. “Who painted it?”

“Another church commissioned an artist to paint it for their sanctuary, but the result was… a little too shocking. So I bought it.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” The pastor’s matter-of-fact voice remained neutral. “You’re the one who came back to look at it.”

Aiden couldn’t stop. He shuffled his feet. “I – ”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I don’t mind if you want to just look at it again.”

Sincerity in this man’s eyes. Aiden suddenly realized how different that was. He always felt closed. Controlled. “What do you feel when you look at it? Do you get used to it?”

The man’s eyes saddened as he looked at the picture. “I don’t get used to it. I pray I never do.”

Aiden didn’t say anything. He reached out a hand to trace a nail biting into his flesh.

“Christ’s pain should always be my pain. I should never forget. I never want to. I want to keep reaching out to other people in pain.” He sighed. “It doesn’t always work that way. I fail more than I succeed.”

“Why try?”

“Because I can’t afford not to. Look at Him.” He stretched out his hands as if beseeching the picture. “He wouldn’t give up.”

Aiden shook his head. “He doesn’t make sense to me.”

The pastor shrugged. “He does when you believe. That’s all I can tell you.”

“That makes even less sense.”

He sat back down in his chair. “Take a couple days and think about it. Come back and tell me what you think.”

“You’ll just argue with me.”

“I won’t.” And he hadn’t, not the entire time Aiden had stood in his tiny office.