Chapter 6

October 7, 2017

The tall, young girl walked in the front door behind her mother, her father trailing her.

“This has been one of the best days of my life. Thanks, Mom, Dad, for being a big part of that. I really like that you let my friends ... become ... your friends by letting them call you by your names, your first names.”

“It seemed the right thing to do,” her mother replied. “As you know, we’ve been very pleasantly surprised by how much they like you, including you in things they do, but, just as important, how responsible they seem to be. You must know that most teenagers are not that way. At least, that’s the way it seems.”

The tall, young girl nodded, then replied, “I like it that you like my friends, because I have so much fun with them.”

October 12, 2017

The tall, young girl was sitting in the front passenger seat, wearing her team jersey, a slight smile on her face.

“The team looked good today.”

The girl looked at her father behind the wheel and answered, “Yes. Coach was very pleased with how we played, particularly the D. She pointed out that the only shot Boynton took that was on goal was the PK.”

“What was your favorite part of the game?”

“Oh, that was Jess’s pass to Shameka on her first goal. That was so pretty. I’ve never thought about doing something like that for a pass. A shot, yes, but not for a pass. I’ll have to keep that in the back of my mind for the future.”

“What else did you enjoy?”

The tall, young girl turned a little pink.

Her dad glanced at her, saying, “Come on. Give.”

“Coach gave me an attagirl for figuring out that we might take advantage of their right back’s seeming ... overly strong focus on whomever she was marking one-on-one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The girl is a really strong defender one-on-one. Both Jess and Rhee had trouble beating her. However, in that situation, she seemed to lose track of most everything else going on around her, almost as if she couldn’t do that without putting everything else out of her mind. I noticed a couple times in the first half that she looked surprised when Jess suddenly passed upfield to Rachel making a run. I told Coach; she told the team at the half. Beth came up with a play for Shameka to take advantage of that, and Jess made a stunning assist. Coach gave me an attagirl.”

The girl looked both proud and somewhat nervous about being seen to brag.

“Civia, you’re allowed to be proud for doing something that helps someone, or friends, or the team. You know this.”

Civia blushed, then responded, “I know. Liya has been working on Beth on the same thing. I guess I’m like her.”

“From what I’ve seen, Beth is far from the worst person to emulate, but I would like to see you learn a more-positive balance between your ego and your humility. There are aspects of your life, your personal happiness about which you should be aggressive, put yourself forward. Remember when you broached the idea about you joining the premier team next year? I really wanted to figure out a way to allow you to do that, because that was one of the few things you’ve done in the past few years in which you pushed yourself to go after something you wanted. There’s a balance to be considered in anything like that. Sometimes, you’ll make the wrong decision on where that balance is. However, it’s much better to make an occasional misstep there than just to go with whatever life throws at you.”

Civia looked at the side of her father’s face for a short while, then said, “I guess I can see that. I’ll think about what you’ve said.”

“That’s what I want, dear daughter of mine.”

October 14, 2017

“Since dinner seems to be a big thing over there, a family activity, what was dinner last night,” the tall, young girl’s mother asked her.

“It was so fun! We made pierogis. We’ve had fun making pierogis here, but Charlie asked all of us to come up with ... non-traditional options for fillings. I suggested bacon, kalamatas, and gouda, and everyone...” [a smile spread across her face, her eyes glowing] “said it was their favorite combo. And the best ... The best was that everyone hugged me f-for it.”

The tall, young girl’s mother looked at her husband, who looked back at her. He shrugged; she nodded.

October 17, 2017

The couple heard a vehicle pull up and stop in front of the house. The two of them stood and went to the front door, opening it on the expected sight of a late-model Mercedes-Benz Sprinter and their daughter waving at the occupants as she exited the vehicle. As the woman pushed open the screen door, she could see that her tall, young daughter had begun crying. The woman sat on the topmost of the three steps up to the porch, her arms open. As the girl stepped into them, the woman closed her arms around the girl as she dropped her gym bag and her crying increased in intensity. The woman held her daughter, just held her.

The rest of the world went about its business, cars passing, an occasional dog barking, an overhead airliner; the woman and girl oblivious to all. The man sat next to his wife, his left arm around her, his right hand rubbing his daughter’s back. Less than ten minutes, but more than five, passed before the girl’s sobbing declined, then ceased. The woman gently chivvied the girl into standing on her own, then took her hand to lead her inside, the girl wiping her eyes with the top of her left forearm, the girl’s father following with her gym bag.

In the living room, the girl sat on the couch between her parents.

“It’s not fair.” The girl took a deep breath, then added, “I know life isn’t fair, but this is particularly unfair. Ever since I met her, I’ve thought that Meka is the most impressive girl I know, that I’ve ever known. She’s a great soccer player. She’s very smart and very funny. I didn’t know how impressive she really is because she’s had to deal with this for months and months. She’d never given us any indication that ... that ... there was something like this in her life. She deserves better than this.”

The girl’s parents comforted her as she broke down again.

As the girl settled, her father said, “Civia, it’s not fair. It’s not fair that she lost her mother years ago. It’s particularly not fair that she’s now losing her father. No child should have to suffer like that, whether impressive like Shameka or not. There’s no platitude, no comforting words, that I can give you that would make it better. There’s no magic that would make it better. It’s also unfair that you should suffer because somewhat else is suffering. Unfortunately, that’s the risk we take when we allow someone to become important to us, friend to us, loved one to us. Would you trade, Civia? Go back to having no friends? Would you not want to love your parents, your grandparents?