The Chance: A Novel (21 page)

“Glad we can watch the game.” The woman settled herself into the seat. She was a skinny bleached blonde with hair halfway down her back. She pointed to the screen. “I love that Nolan Cook. He’s amazing, right? I mean, what guy is like him?” She caught a quick breath. “Tim Tebow, of course. They’re both the same. Untouchable. Everyone’s in love with them, and all they do is live for God and play ball for His glory. Right? I mean, it’s amazing.”

Ellie’s eyes were on the screen. The game hadn’t started, but the announcer was talking about Nolan. Her friend Nolan. The boy she had loved since third grade. Something about him averaging the most points in the league through the first round of play-offs, and how he had more steals than anyone in the Eastern Conference. The camera fixed on him, warming up, taking shots from around the arc of the three-point line, breaking for the basket and making a convincing layup.

Then the angle changed, and the faces of three kids filled the screen. The announcer was saying, “These are Nolan Cook’s guests for tonight. Three kids from the local foster program. None of them have parents, but here, for the next few hours, they have Nolan Cook.”

Ellie ran a fine comb lightly through the woman’s hair. She was going on about how she wished she could set up a friend of hers with Nolan because there were just no guys like him and her friend was so great and . . .

Ellie only pretended to listen. Something she was good at after years of cutting hair. “Highlights again?”

“Yes.” The woman used her hands to add emphasis. “Bright highlights. Something light blonde for summer.” She sat a little straighter. “We have the Bahamas next week.”

The salon was near the base, so the clientele was mixed. Some soldiers and soldiers’ wives. But most people who came to Merrilou’s lived high-end lifestyles and talked about their trips to the Caribbean or Hawaii or Europe. Their husbands held high positions at Morgan Stanley or UBS, one of the financial institutions in greater San Diego, where they made boatloads of money. Their wives enjoyed spending it and telling Ellie about the details.

Women like this one.

Ellie mixed the bleach and color in a small plastic bowl and kept her eyes on the TV. They were showing Nolan again, this time as he rallied his teammates into a fired-up huddle. The game was about to begin.

What are you thinking about, Nolan? Do I ever cross your mind?

The separation between them was her fault. She could have reached out to him. She’d known that years ago. When he was at North Carolina, she even wrote him a letter, took it to the post office, and then changed her mind and ripped it into a dozen pieces. Twice she had nearly dialed the phone number to the North Carolina basketball office, but both times she’d changed her mind. She’d thought again about contacting him when he was drafted by the pros. She researched his manager’s name and office number. She still had it programmed into her phone.

Yes, she’d followed Nolan’s life as far back as she could remember. How his father had died of a heart attack after losing the state final game the spring after Ellie moved to San Diego and how Nolan missed him. How he had poured all his passion and energy into basketball. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted back when they used to sit under their old oak tree. All of his dreams had come true.

All of his and none of hers.

And that was the one thing that had stopped her from contacting Nolan back when he was in college. It was the sad detail that still stopped her today.

Deep down, she didn’t really want to find Nolan Cook. Didn’t want him to see how her life had turned out. How she’d failed. Ellie felt the familiar ache in her chest. Her life was a sad mix of hurried choices and lifelong consequences. She’d rebelled against her father and fallen for a soldier when she was a senior in high school. Not long after, Ellie was pregnant. When the guy found out, he left her for another girl before being deployed. He was killed by a roadside bomb in the Middle East, and Ellie was raising their daughter by herself. She didn’t talk to either of her parents, and hadn’t in years.

How would she tell Nolan that?

The idea of Nolan seeing her now? Ellie shuddered at the thought. He would despise who she had become. She had missed out on college and instead spent her days cutting hair so she could feed her six-year-old daughter. Her dreams of writing that great American novel as gone as the summer nights under the old oak tree. She hadn’t been to church in five years and had no plans to go. Not ever.

So why contact him?

What would she have in common with Nolan Cook, the man so public about his love for Jesus? Nolan wasn’t looking for someone like Ellie. The right girl for Nolan would have rock-solid faith and a commitment to purity. She would be a role model for girls around the country, beautiful and innocent and strong in her convictions.

Ellie smeared the bleach on a square piece of tinfoil and wrapped it around a small section of the woman’s hair.
Then she repeated the process. No, he wasn’t looking for her any more than she was looking for him. Still, during basketball season, she couldn’t help herself. She loved watching Nolan Cook play, same as she did when she was fifteen years old. The way he took control of a game and drove to the hoop, the way he could sink a three-point shot like butter through the net. His expression of determination and intensity.

She would never know him again, never seek him out. But when he played basketball on TV, for a few hours she could pretend once more that he was her friend and she was the only girl in his life. The way she pretended now.

“Did you hear me?” Tinfoil stuck over half the woman’s hair. She pointed at the TV. “I said he’s good-looking, Nolan Cook. Don’t you think?”

Ellie smiled. She could see him the way he looked their last night together, when he took her in his arms and hugged her. He was just a kid back then. “Yes, he grew up to be very handsome.”

The tinfoil pieces rattled as the woman looked over her shoulder at Ellie. “Grew up? You’ve seen pictures of him as a boy?”

“No.” Heat flooded her cheeks. “Just . . . he’s older now. I used to watch him when he played for North Carolina.”

“Oh. Right.” The woman turned back to the TV. “The guy breaks hearts every time he takes the floor.”

Ellie nodded, her eyes on Nolan as she finished applying the bleach. “Time for the dryer.”

“Make sure I can see the TV. I’m cheering for Nolan and the Hawks tonight.”

Ellie led the woman across the salon and set her up beneath
the hot-air dryer in a place where she could see the game. The woman needed twenty minutes for her hair to process. Good thing. Ellie needed a rest from the chatter.

She returned to her station, her attention back on Nolan. A private smile tugged at her lips. No one would’ve guessed that Ellie had known him, that in another lifetime she and Nolan had been inseparable. She hadn’t told a single person since the move to San Diego. Only her roommate. As if that part of her life had never happened at all.

The Hawks rolled out to a quick lead. Led by Nolan’s fourteen points in the first quarter, they ran the floor like they were the team to beat. Same as they’d done the first three games in the series. Ahead by fifteen at the half, already the announcers were making predictions about who Atlanta would play in the conference final. As if they expected the Hawks to handle the next round as easily as they had handled this one.

Despite the lopsided score, Ellie kept the game on while she finished the woman’s hair and then moved on to her next client. She didn’t leave until nine o’clock, long after the game was over. On her way out, she turned left and walked to the end of the strip mall. The old bearded man was there, slouched against the brick wall and a pile of dirty blankets.

He scrunched himself a little higher as she approached. “Miss Ellie. How you be?”

“Good, Jimbo. Another beautiful day.” She stooped down and pulled a donut from her purse. It was wrapped in a clean napkin. “One of the girls brought these.” She smiled as she handed it to him. “I saved you one.”

The man’s eyes welled up. “Don’t know why you’re so good to me. I ain’t never done anything this good.”

“That’s not true. You always tell me I look pretty.”

“Aww, that’s nothing.” He brushed a gnarled hand near his face. “You’re an angel, Miss Ellie. I’m . . . I’m nothing.”

“Don’t say that!” She wagged her finger at him. “Here. Tips were good today.”

She handed him a twenty-dollar bill. He hesitated. His hands trembled as he took it. “I keep asking the good Lord what I ever did to deserve a friend like you.” Tears slid down his weathered cheeks.

“Don’t buy anything bad, okay?” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Promise?”

“Promise.” He nodded fast, intent on his determination. “Only the good stuff.”

“Like dinner.” She stood and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, Jimbo?”

“Definitely. Thank you, Miss Ellie.” He tucked the money into his shirt pocket, grabbed handfuls of his raggedy blankets, and pulled them close to his face.

“You’ll feel better with a good dinner.” The night air was cool for early May, but Ellie had a feeling that Jimbo was more embarrassed than cold. “You need anything?” Ellie had to get home to her little girl. But she had to ask.

“Nothing, Miss Ellie. I’m fine. I’m perfect. Thank you.”

Ellie smiled. “Okay.” She took a few steps back and waved. “See you tomorrow.” Before she turned, she raised her brow at him. “Buy yourself dinner. You promised.”

“Only the good stuff.”

And with that, Ellie turned and crossed the parking lot to her car. The Dodge four-door was a decade old, and the left rear fender had been crushed in an accident by the previous owner. The car had logged over two hundred thousand miles, but it ran. Better than taking the bus.

Ellie climbed in, locked the doors, and headed home.

Her daughter was waiting.

E
llie named her Kinzie Noah Anne Tucker.

Since the name change five years ago, she was just Kinzie Noah Anne. Kinzie, after the street corner where Ellie and Nolan would meet before school each morning, the place halfway between her house and his. Kinzie Avenue. And Noah, the closest girl name to Nolan she could think of.

Kinzie met her at the door. “You’re late.” Her pale blond hair framed the frustration in her pretty blue eyes. “You said nine fifteen. It’s nine twenty-five.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” Ellie set her purse down and swept Kinzie into her arms. The girl was still small enough to pick up. For a long time Ellie held her, and when she set her down, she bent low so they were eye to eye. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” Kinzie’s irritation turned to hurt. “I hate when you’re late.”

“I was talking to Jimbo.” Ellie leaned in and brushed noses with her daughter. “He’s doing okay.”

“That’s good.” Kinzie smoothed out the wrinkles in her T-shirt and managed the first hint of a smile. “Did you tip him?”

“I did.” She straightened and walked Kinzie to the kitchen, her arm around the child’s slim, tan shoulders. “He promised to use it for dinner.”

Kinzie turned her innocent eyes to Ellie. “You said he sometimes lies.”

“Yes.” Ellie nodded, serious. “I think he’s working on it.”

“I prayed for him last Sunday at church.” Kinzie reached for Ellie’s hand. “Come on. I made you dinner!”

Ellie stopped and looked at Kinzie, surprised. “You prayed for Jimbo?”

“A’ course, Mommy. I pray for you, too. All the time.”

“Oh.” They headed for the kitchen once more. “That’s nice of you.” Ellie could thank her roommate, Tina, for Kinzie’s recent obsession with faith. Tina’s little girl, Tiara, was six also, and a few months ago they asked Ellie and Kinzie to join them at church. Ellie passed, but Kinzie jumped at the opportunity. Now Kinzie could barely talk about anything else. In a sweetly sad way, her daughter’s love for God reminded Ellie of herself at that age. Eventually, she would know the disappointing truth. How God lost interest in kids once they grew up.

They reached the counter, and Ellie gasped. “Wow!” She walked closer to the plate of macaroni and cheese, carrot sticks, and toast Kinzie had made for her. “Look at you, Kinzie Noah. What a good little cook!”

Tina walked in and winked at Kinzie. Ellie’s roommate had clearly given Kinzie a little help. This was their routine. Tina worked as a hairdresser, too, but she had the early shift. She picked up the girls from school at three every afternoon and made dinner with them. Ellie was in charge of breakfast and school drop-off each morning. Her schedule was worse. She had only an hour with Kinzie each day, then this little bit of time at night before bedtime.

And they had the weekends. Ellie’s favorite time.

She ate beside Kinzie, captivated by the child’s stories. She hadn’t stopped talking since they sat down. “You know the bunny in our classroom, the one we rescued from the edge of the forest?”

“I do.” Ellie took another bite of mac and cheese. “This is great, by the way.”

“Thanks, Mommy.” Kinzie giggled, completely recovered from her earlier disappointment. “Anyway, the bunny is so cute, Mommy. He looks like a stuffed bunny. And he can do this trick now where he wiggles his whiskers when he wants a carrot, and then sometimes he . . .”