Chapter 26 - No Reserved Sign
The senior all-star exhibition arrived three weeks before graduation.
The gym looked almost exactly as it had on championship night.
Bright arena lights.
Packed bleachers.
North Ridge colors.
Jordan stood in the tunnel listening to the crowd.
His hands were calm.
Coach Reed approached.
“Big dramatic feelings?”
Jordan smiled.
“You want me to have some?”
“Would make my pregame speech easier.”
Jordan looked toward the court.
“Just basketball.”
Coach Reed nodded approvingly.
“That’s growth.”
The teams entered.
Jordan jogged onto the floor.
For several minutes he did not look toward Section C.
Then during warmups, instinct won.
Third row.
Marcus sat there.
Early.
No phone.
Beside him sat Alicia.
Darius.
Keisha.
But there was no RESERVED — FAMILY sign.
Just people.
Jordan stared for a moment.
Marcus noticed.
He did not wave wildly.
He lifted one hand.
Jordan nodded.
Then returned to warmups.
During the game, Jordan played loose.
He scored twenty-two.
More importantly, he laughed after a missed dunk.
Coach Reed nearly fell over.
“You smiling after missing?”
Jordan jogged past.
“Character development.”
Reed pointed.
“Don’t steal my lines.”
Late in the fourth quarter, Jordan went to the free-throw line.
The gym grew loud.
He bounced the ball.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His eyes almost went to Section C.
He stopped himself.
He looked at the rim.
Shot.
Swish.
Second shot.
Swish.
The crowd erupted.
Marcus stood and clapped.
Jordan never looked.
Not because Marcus did not matter.
Because the shot belonged to Jordan.
The exhibition ended with Jordan’s team winning by five.
Players met families on court.
Marcus stayed behind the railing.
Jordan found Coach Reed first.
They hugged.
“Last game in this gym,” Reed said.
Jordan looked around.
“Feels weird.”
“You’ll survive.”
Jordan smiled.
Then Alicia hugged him.
Darius slapped his shoulder.
“You missed that dunk.”
Jordan shoved him playfully.
“Go home.”
Keisha congratulated him.
Marcus remained slightly behind.
Jordan noticed.
“You coming?”
Marcus pointed toward himself.
“Me?”
“No, Coach Reed’s imaginary friend.”
Marcus laughed and stepped forward.
“Good game.”
“Thanks.”
A photographer approached.
“Family picture?”
Marcus looked at Jordan.
Jordan looked at everyone.
Alicia.
Marcus.
Darius.
Keisha.
The word family felt complicated.
Then Jordan shrugged.
“Sure.”
They arranged themselves.
Marcus stood beside Jordan but left space.
Jordan noticed.
The photographer raised the camera.
At the last second Jordan handed Marcus the all-star trophy.
Marcus’s eyes widened.
“You sure?”
Jordan smiled.
“Don’t make it weird.”
Marcus held it.
The camera flashed.
Afterward he immediately handed it back.
Jordan took it.
No fight.
No pulling away.
No claim.
As they left the court, Jordan stopped at the third-row seat.
Marcus saw him.
Jordan touched the back of the chair.
The old paper sign was long gone.
He could still picture it.
Reserved — Family.
Marcus stood beside him.
“I hate that seat.”
Jordan smiled faintly.
“I used to.”
“You don’t?”
Jordan looked around the gym.
“It’s a chair.”
Marcus laughed softly.
“That sounds expensive after everything we went through.”
Jordan shrugged.
“Therapy would’ve been cheaper.”
Marcus laughed harder.
Alicia called from the exit.
“You two coming?”
Jordan headed toward her.
Marcus remained for one second.
He touched the chair.
Then followed.
Outside, Jordan loaded the trophy into Marcus’s trunk.
His phone buzzed.
Carolina State had sent his summer reporting schedule.
June eighteenth.
Less than a month after graduation.
Jordan stared.
Marcus noticed.
“What?”
“Move-in stuff.”
“Already?”
“Summer workouts.”
Marcus nodded.
“You ready?”
Jordan looked back at the gym.
“Yeah.”
Then he looked at his father.
“Maybe.”
Marcus smiled.
“That sounds honest.”
They drove home.
Jordan placed the all-star trophy beside the championship trophy.
Two pieces of metal.
One connected to pain.
One connected to repair.
Both his.
Later that night Marcus received an email from the mortgage company confirming another principal payment.
The balance was finally below what it had been before the refinance.
Still far above the divorce-year amount.
But moving in the right direction.
Marcus closed the laptop.
Jordan appeared at the doorway.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Graduation.”
Marcus smiled.
“I know the date.”
Jordan stared at him.
Marcus laughed.
“May twenty-ninth. Six p.m.”
“And?”
“Arrive by five.”
Jordan nodded.
Marcus stood.
“You worried?”
Jordan shook his head.
“No.”
He turned away.
Then stopped.
“Actually…”
Marcus waited.
Jordan looked back.
“I don’t want to look for you.”
Marcus’s expression softened.
Jordan continued.
“I want to already know.”
Marcus nodded.
“You will.”
Jordan held his gaze.
Marcus corrected himself.
“I’ll be there at five.”
Specific.
No poetry.
No promise about forever.
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Jordan smiled.
“Good.”
