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tells me they've painted up the windows at both stores in town."

"Yes, everyone is excited. Arlene bought us all matching T-shirts to wear at the games. I

have this fear that she's going to hold up a sign saying we're the coach's family."

Carrie laughed. "I can tell how enthused you are."

"Don't think I haven't thought about staying behind, because I have. But I'm sure the

wrath of the basketball gods would rain down upon me!"

"Oh, well. Maybe soon we can find a weekend."

"Maybe." Jill turned on the bench, waiting until Carrie looked at her. Her blue eyes looked

bright in the sunshine. Jill couldn't decide which color she liked best, this or the pale blue

she saw more often. "I... I really miss talking to you, Carrie. I mean, on the weekends." She

paused. "I don't understand it," she admitted softly. "I've never had a friend like you. I've

never talked to someone so much."

"I know exactly what you mean." Carrie sat up, resting her elbows on her thighs as she

gazed out over the lake. "I don't know what it is about you but when you're around,

everything seems so brilliant, so beautiful." She glanced at Jill quickly, then away. "I'm

almost afraid of the colors I'll see this spring," she said with a laugh. "If you don't mind, I

would love to paint you."

Jill smiled. "Paint me?"

"Yes. Not a portrait. I mean, outside, standing by the water, or sitting here on our bench,

with the colors all bursting around you." She turned back to Jill. "What do you think?"

Jill tilted her head. "Will I get to keep it?"

"If you wish."

She nodded. "Yes. I would love for you to paint me."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In all the years she had known Craig, she'd never once seen him like this. But the silence

was nearly unbearable. Unfortunately, she didn't know any inspiring sports quotes to cheer

him up.

"It's really a nice evening. I think we should grill out," she said. "And I think we should ask

your parents to join us. We owe them." She rolled her eyes. God, she must be desperate to

want Arlene over here.

"I'm not really in the mood, babe."

She tucked her blond hair behind both ears and stood staring at him. His eyes were glued

to the TV, a TV that stood dark and silent. Even his cell phone remained quiet.

"Craig, it was a good game," she said hesitantly.

"Good? We lost by one fucking point. You call that good?"

She raised her eyebrows. She hadn't heard him use the f-word in years. But she tried

again.

"You went to State, Craig. You made it to the final game. You're acting like you got blown

away."

"Blown away? We were picked to win. We should have won." He shook his head. "Goddamned

call. It wasn't a foul. Jesus! Anybody could tell it wasn't a foul."

She sighed. "Okay, fine," she murmured. I tried.

She went through the kitchen and into the garage where they kept the freezer. She took

out four steaks, then hesitated, finally tossing two back in. If he didn't want his parents

over, she certainly wasn't going to invite them. She feared she would end up entertaining

them while he sulked in private. But no, sulking is always better when you have an audience.

So, she pulled out the other two steaks after all.

And after a call to Arlene to let her know the mood her son was in, she went about catching

up on the laundry she'd missed while they were gone. When she walked through the house

to go upstairs, Craig was still in the same position, staring at the TV. She knew it must be

devastating to lose the championship game, but still, they'd at least made it that far. How

many teams could say that? She opened her mouth to say those very words but stopped.

What did she know about it?

She methodically unpacked their luggage and piled up their dirty clothes to take

downstairs. And she thought she had time to shower before his parents would be there.

She was about to go into Angie's room to retrieve her clothes when the door opened. Craig

stood there, his face drawn, sullen.

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged then motioned to the bed. "I could use a little attention," he said.

"Attention?"

He walked closer. "Yeah." He took her hands and pulled her to him. "It's been weeks since

we've made love."

Try months.

She stepped out of his embrace, holding him at arm's length. "You don't want to make love,

Craig. You want to have sex."

"And? So?"

"And so I don't. Besides, your parents are coming over any minute."

"I told you I wasn't in the mood," he said loudly.

"Well they're coming over just the same. We're having steaks."

"I swear, Jill, can't we spend one night alone?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Since January, you have been gone nearly

every night of the week with basketball. Don't talk to me about spending time alone."

"It's my job, for Christ's sake. You know that."

"Oh yes, I know."

"And it's not like I didn't ask you to come with me. You just never want to."

"Well, like you said, it's your job."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She turned around and gathered up an armload of dirty clothes. She shook her head. "It

means nothing, Craig. But I don't care to join you in your pity party. You should be proud of

how far you and the team went. These are kids, Craig. They look up to you. Is this what you

want them to see?"

"You just don't understand," he said. "You never did. It's not just a game, Jill. It's about

life."

"So the message you want to portray is that you lost the game, you lost at life? Give me a

break. They're sixteen, seventeen years old. How sad is it if you make them believe that

this weekend was the most important event in their young lives? They've got their whole

life in front of them."

"Yeah, well I don't," he said angrily as he turned away.

"And it's always about you," she murmured. She closed her eyes, finally letting out her

breath. He wasn't worried about the kids and their frame of mind, he was just concerned

about himself. It was what made him a good coach—the fear of failing. It was also what

made him a horrible coach.

Later, after steaks and after his mother had effectively consoled him, he was able to turn

on his cell phone. It hadn't stopped ringing.

So as soon as Arlene and Carl left, she poured a glass of wine and retreated to the back

deck. The nights were still cool but not unbearably cold. The sweatshirt she'd pulled on was

plenty warm enough.

She sat down and put the swing in motion with her foot, enjoying the quiet finally after

three days of basketball. She wasn't even going to allow Arlene's remarks about Angie

make her feel guilty. Angie was at Shelly's. And yes, it was a school night. But no, she

wasn't a horrible mother. Angie had called, asking if she could stay over. After talking to

Shelly's mom to make sure it was okay with them, she said yes. Their evening of rented

movies and pizza sounded more fun anyway.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to relax after the whirlwind weekend

they'd had. And as always, when she allowed them, thoughts of Carrie crept into her mind.

She'd intentionally kept her at bay, trying hard to blend in with the family, to enjoy the

basketball weekend like the others were. Even at night, as she lay in bed, long after Craig

had gone to sleep, she'd purposely shut her mind to any thoughts of Carrie.