Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
They were positioned at a corner table, in another suite that was connected to this one. Dwayne had a beer in hand, nodding to the conversation and watching the teams below. Trent was conversing with another man in a business suit. The suit guy was the one talking, his hands in the air, but Trent glanced back. His eyes caught me, and a look flashed in them. He said something to the suit guy, turning to come for me.
“That’s them, yeah.”
“Got it.” Marie patted my arm. “You go over to them, and I’ll grab you something to eat and drink, hmmm?”
But she hadn’t gone a step before a woman stepped in. “Are you Reese Forster’s girlfriend?”
A gargle left me. I didn’t know how to respond, not at first. Then a calmness settled over me and I held my hand out. “Yes. I’m Charlie.”
She introduced herself. It was Lestroy’s wife.
“If you ever need anything, let me know. Marie has my number.” She was kind, and giving. She was there for me, but I knew it was her way of reaching out, being there for Reese. This was all for Reese.
And after she stepped back, another came forward. Crusky’s girlfriend.
Then another.
And another.
A few of the men came over, introduced themselves. Condolences were said over and over until my mind was a blur.
I couldn’t remember faces, or names, or even what they said. But I remembered the sentiment.
They were being kind.
That went a long way with me.
By the time the last one who came over had stepped away, the lights in the gym were dimming for the announcer’s introductions. Trent was next to me, his hand on my arm. “We have seats in the corner. Ready?”
I had caught Trent and Marie introducing themselves from the corner of my eye during my line of people. Stan appeared when we went over. There was no surprise from Trent so I assumed they knew each other. Dwayne was watching me, his eyebrow slightly raised, but he kept sipping his beer. He was eyeing Marie at one point until Trent nudged him and leaned in to whisper something. Dwayne jackknifed toward the window again, and stayed there.
From what I’d been told, I didn’t think an official announcement had been made over the game’s intercom system about Roman’s death. I mean, people knew, but it wasn’t something that needed to be announced.
But then the lights cut for the Seattle Thunder’s entrance, and the personal phone camera lights blinked on. But they weren’t the usual color. They were a pastel blue—the team color.
Someone gasped in the suite, and I blinked back tears.
I heard someone ask in a whisper, “Did you know they were doing this?”
Her friend replied, “No.”
Trent leaned over to me. “They were handing filters out in the entrance to everyone.”
The stadium was an ocean of blinking blue lights. An awareness spread through me. I knew, I just knew that this was for Reese, because of Roman’s death. The fans were trying to give him their support in their way.
My hand went out to the window, and I spread my fingers, pressing my palm there. It was my gesture to Reese, though I knew he wouldn’t see it.
I caught movement beside me and looked over. Trent was giving Dwayne a filter, and they both raised their phones, holding the blue in front of the light.
A few others in the suite were doing the same.
When Reese’s name was announced and he jogged out onto the court, a roar sounded through the entire stadium. Those blue lights waved around, and everyone was in a frenzy.
The camera zoomed in on Reese, and he wiped away a tear, blinking to stop the rest. He dipped his head to the crowd, then turned to look where I was.
My hand hadn’t left the glass, and I leaned forward.
The entire arena was Seattle Strong for Reese that night.
Once the game ended, we remained in the suite. Most of the others filtered out right away, but a few remained. Marie was standing point guard for me. It was too much. The game had been emotionally exhausting.
Reese played and he played with his whole heart, but there’d been a few camera cuts to him when he’d been caught blinking back some tears. Every time I wanted to go to him. Every time I wanted to take away his pain. Every time I could do nothing.
Our small crew remained in the corner. I hadn’t even gotten up for the bathroom, not once during the game.
Stan was either talking on his phone or checking his phone.
Dwayne had no idea my relation to Reese still. Bless his heart. He was blissfully drunk, sitting between Marie and Trent. He hadn’t witnessed the line of hugs I received when I came in, and I don’t think he let his beer run empty the whole game. If I were asked, I’d have to say that Dwayne had the best time this game.