“Sure,” he was saying, already leading the way. “So . . .
Charley
. . . it’ll take a minute to get used to that.” He smiled. “Didn’t recognize you at first with the whole no-ponytail-or-sneakers look.”
She glanced down at her skirt and sandals. “Well, I do clean up once in a while.”
“Ha. Guess in my case, I went backward.” He glanced at her. “How long have you known my cousins?”
“Not long. Met Janelle in the spring at Soul Sisters; just met Stephanie yesterday.” She added, “But I’m looking forward to getting to know them better.”
He nodded. “Which means you’d have to be near them, here in Hope Springs, which, in order for that to work, means you’d have to take the head coach position.”
“Hmm . . . that wasn’t Mr. Maxwell right there, was it? On a Friday night?”
“Uh, no. Not at all.” He cleared his throat. “Just . . . okay, yeah, that was Mr. Maxwell.” He laughed. “Promise. Marcus only, rest of the night.” He paused. “But wait, I’m your brother in Christ too, right? I thought we had a vibe going yesterday, trying to figure out what God was doing in your life.”
“Good save,” she said. “We’ll file that comment under brotherly advice.”
They wove through pockets of conversation, Marcus patting people on the back or giving a nod, and stopped inside a tent area with long buffet tables filled with food. He passed her a sturdy plastic plate.
Charley held up a hand, smiling apologetically. “I should’ve told Janelle I’m not that hungry. I had dinner at home earlier.”
“Oh. Janelle didn’t warn you? You
have
to eat when you attend a Sanders reunion. It’s, like, a law. Those who don’t mysteriously disappear, never to be seen again.”
Someone walked a pan of fresh fried fish by them. Charley followed it with her eyes to the buffet table.
“That smells really good,” she said.
“I’m sayin’.” He extended his hands like it was a no-brainer. “You can enjoy good food
and
keep your life. Win-win.”
“All right, I’m sold,” she said. “But I think I’ll wait for Janelle or Stephanie.”
Marcus took a glance around. “I don’t know where Janelle went, and I still don’t see Steph.” He shrugged. “I’m a lame substitute, but I can join you.”
“Did you eat already?” she said.
“I did, but I’m willing to get seconds just to be gracious.”
She took the plate from him. “I’ve got to at least try that fish.”
Marcus nodded. “That’s the Sanders spirit.” He got a plate himself and proceeded to pile it on.
“Wow. I thought you were just being gracious.”
“Oh, I don’t play.” He scooped some butter beans and plopped them next to the potatoes and two pieces of fish. “I’ll pack on a couple of pounds for the sake of being gracious.”
She shook her head at him, following him to the second buffet as he added dessert. They stopped at the beverage station and got bottled water, then walked toward a picnic table that had space. Marcus introduced her to the others at the table—great-aunts and uncles—and they settled on the end.
Charley pinched off a piece of fish and tasted it. “Mmm, I love whiting. This is really good.”
“I’m impressed,” Marcus said. “I couldn’t have told you what it was.” He lifted a forkful himself. “So I know Coach Willoughby’s résumé. But tell me about Charley. You grow up playing volleyball?”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Started in middle school, played club through high school, then went on to college.” She took a sip of water. “What about you? Did you play a sport?”
“Basketball. Point guard.”
“In college?”
He nodded. “UNC-Greensboro.” Smiling a little, he added,
“We’ve got a game tomorrow morning at the high school. Looking forward to hurtin’ the older dudes in the family, but hoping the younger ones don’t hurt me.”
Charley laughed. “Sounds like fun. So you grew up in Greensboro?”
“Raleigh. But I was in Hope Springs a lot, right here at my grandmother’s house. My mother grew up in this house.”
“Janelle said she and Stephanie are the third generation to live here. That’s pretty cool.”
“Charley!” Stephanie walked up and took a spot next to her on the bench. “Sorry. Janelle came to get me, and I was in the middle of cheer practice.”
“Cheer practice?” Charley asked.
Marcus gave Stephanie a look, then turned to Charley. “She’s a traitor, cheering for the Over 30 team tomorrow morning.”
“Excuse me,” Stephanie said. “I might be in my twenties, but my husband is on that team, so that’s where my loyalty lies.” She hit Charley’s arm. “Hey, you should join us. It’s a ragtag group of cheerleaders, so it promises to be a riot.”
“Hold it,” Marcus said. “I know you’re not talking about Charley cheering for the Over 30s. We need some Under 30 cheer support.” He looked at Charley. “You got our backs, right?”
“I’d definitely have to go with my Under 30 peeps.” She laughed. “But I’ve never cheered a day in my life . . . so enthusiastic hand claps will have to do. Actually, I was planning to go to the school tomorrow anyway, to start moving my things out of the gym office.”
Marcus eyed her. “But you haven’t made a final decision yet . . . have you?”
“It was final all summer,” Charley said, “until you threw in that monkey wrench yesterday.”
“He’s throwing monkey wrenches into everybody’s life,” Stephanie said. “Approached me earlier today about subbing.”
Charley’s eyes got big. “Wow, really? I did hear there was a shortage of teachers.”
“That’s what Marcus said.” Stephanie folded her arms. “And I said no. I don’t do little kids if I can help it. Definitely don’t do smart-alecky teens.”
“You told me you would pray about it,” Marcus said.
“Mm-hm. And no is still real strong in my spirit.”
Charley laughed, almost spitting out the water she’d just swigged. “That’s the answer I should’ve given him.” She fist-bumped Stephanie.
“Oh, y’all are ganging up on me?” Marcus said. “I’m not worried because I know how to pray too—and I’m praying for both of you.” He nodded like he had some inside track. “Don’t be surprised when I’m fist-bumping y’all in the hallway on the first day of school.”
“Don’t be praying for me,” Stephanie said. “Totally out of bounds and uncalled for. I don’t need you trying to shake my inner resolve.”
Marcus laughed and countered with a quick reply, but Charley barely heard—because she’d heard something else. That he was a praying man. And the thought that he might’ve prayed for
her
. . .
The plan wasn’t working. Everything about this night was fueling her crush on him.
S
tephanie stood on the sidelines during a timeout, rallying cheers for the Over 30 team. “Forty-two seconds to go, and we’re four points down. We’ve gotta pump up our guys! Let’s do the last cheer I taught you.”
Cyd gave her the same look she’d been giving the whole game. “I’m not doing another cheer. It’s silly. Can’t we just clap and shout ‘Woo’?”
Stephanie eyed her sister. “You are so pitiful. Cedric’s working himself to the bone, oldest one out there, and all you can give him is a sad ol’ ‘Woo.’” She shook a pompom at her. “Put some oomph into it, girl! Cheer on your man!” She shook her poms outward. “Go, Lindell! I see you, babe! You can do it!”
“Where’d you get those pompoms, anyway?” Cyd said. “I’m gonna burn those things.”
Janelle laughed, shaking hers. “They’re fun! We found them at the party store yesterday.” She looked down at the three five-year-olds beside her—her daughter, Tiffany; Kory’s daughter, Dee; and Todd and Becca’s daughter, Claire. “Shake ‘em, girls!”
The three shook their pompoms and shouted, always eager for fun.
“See,” Stephanie said, “Some people don’t have to be told twice.”
“How about Libby?” Janelle said. “I see her poms going extra hard when Travis has the ball.”
“So I saw,” Stephanie said. “Heard her cheering extra loud for him too.”
“Y’all are funny,” Libby said. “It’s not about Travis. It’s about the Over 30s and Team Wood. And since we’re counting points scored, I’m noting that Travis has the most points on the Over 30 team.”
“True. But don’t get excited.” Stephanie glanced over to where the “older” guys were huddled up. “We’ve got Cedric
and
Lindell on our team, and their combined points give Team Bruce the win this morning.”
“Uh, not exactly.” Charley stood alongside them, pointing to the Under 30 team. “Marcus scored more than their combined points. Team Gladys won this round.”
Stephanie gave her a look. “Yeah, with you cheering like a mad woman the whole time. I’m about to take back those pompoms I gave you. Sure didn’t take you long to get into it.”
“I know, it’s fun! I was dead tired when I got here, but the game woke me up.”
“Girl, you and me both. We were up another couple hours after you left at two!”
A whistle blew, the guys broke from their huddle, and Stephanie snapped back to cheer mode.
“Come on, y’all! Let’s cheer our guys to victory!” She threw down her poms and started clapping, chanting, “Swish it, sink it, send it on in! Over 30s are here and ready to win!”
Family members stood in the bleachers, stomping as Stephanie repeated it two more times. About twenty to thirty of them had
shown up; the Over 30s had the numbers advantage since the younger crowd liked to sleep in.
They all watched intently as Cedric inbounded the ball and passed it to Travis. Travis dribbled downcourt and passed to Kory. Kory took a shot, and it skidded around the rim and bounced back out.
“Awww!” sounded from Stephanie’s cheer team, then, “Yesss!” when Kory rebounded.
“Dribble it!” Stephanie called to the cheerleaders. “Dribble it, pass it, we want a basket! Dribble, dribble, pass, pass, shoot, and score!” they yelled.
“D-E-F-E-N-S-E!” Charley yelled. “De-fense! De-fense!”
Marcus wouldn’t let Kory get another shot, so he passed the ball out to Cedric, who took a chance on a three-point shot—and made it.
“Woooooo!” Cyd was jumping up and down. “Go, Ced, go! Go, Ced, go!”
“Oh,
now
you got some oomph in that ‘Woo.’” Stephanie high-fived her sister. “Can’t blame you. That was awesome! Team Bruce! Over 30s!”
One point down and twenty-seven seconds left, the Under 30s got ready to inbound the ball—then Marcus suddenly called a time-out.
“Why’d he do that?” Stephanie asked.
“He must’ve seen some defensive move he wanted to counter,” Charley said.
Stephanie noticed more and more people, non–family members, coming into the gym and standing off to the side. She turned to Janelle. “Is something happening after this?”
Janelle looked toward the gym entrance. “Volunteers from New Jerusalem and Calvary come at ten to set up for the service tomorrow.”
Marcus jogged over when the Under 30s huddle broke. Charley
handed him a hand towel and a water bottle. He wiped his face, took a swig, and exchanged a few words. Stephanie watched him jog back.
She looked at Charley. “This little refreshment stand you’ve got going . . . I’m noticing the only member of your team who’s benefiting is Marcus.”
“Well.” Charley blushed. “Remember he asked if I would have his back? As I was leaving the house this morning, it hit me that I could offer more than cheer support. It was nothing to grab a towel and a couple bottles of water.”
“Uh-huh.” Stephanie eyed her. “I’m sure it was nothing.”
Janelle was waving across the gym. “There’s Trina. She must be on the setup committee.”
Trina spotted the arm-waving and headed over. “Hey, y’all!” She doled out hugs. “How’s reunion weekend? Are y’all having a blast?” She got to Charley. “Hey, you hanging out with the Sanders family?”
Janelle answered for her. “We had a great time last night,” she said, “and tonight is our family dinner and talent show at a hotel in Rocky Mount, and there’s a party afterward. I know it’s last-minute, but you’re welcome to come to the party if you can.”
Trina smiled big. “Sounds fun. I’d love to.” She looked out on the court. “Is the game over? I wanted to get here earlier, but I got caught up running errands.”
“Only a few seconds left,” Stephanie said. “It’s been exciting.” She paused. “You knew about the family basketball game?”
“Travis told me,” Trina said.
Stephanie stole a glance with Janelle. Since when did Trina talk to Travis? Maybe he’d mentioned it in passing at church.
The whistle blew and the Under 30s got ready to inbound the ball again.
Libby had gone up into the stands for a moment, but at the
sound of the whistle, she hurried back. “Where’s our cheer, Steph? Let’s pump it up!”
Stephanie shook the questions from her head and shouted, “Aggressive!” Everyone knew what she meant and began chanting,“Be aggressive, B-e aggressive, B-e a-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e, aggressive, B-e aggressive!”
The Under 30 team inbounded the ball, and Marcus got it right away. He made a fast break for the basket, but Travis stole the ball from him.