“Can I have mermaids?” Ireland asked nonchalantly.
“Absolutely. I could paint one wall to look like the ocean with fish, coral, and some mermaids. Then the rest of the walls we can paint another color to match.”
“Really?” Ireland pulled her legs up on the stool, so she was sitting in a crisscross position as she looked between Aaron and me.
“Sounds good to me, I told you that it was your room. We just need to know where to go.” Aaron grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed.
“Let’s make a list. Aaron, do you have paper and pen?” My mind was already whirling with ideas. “Okay, I think we need to start with the important stuff.”
“Like clothes?” Ireland asked.
“Yep, and then we can order furniture because that will take several days. After that, we can pick out paint colors you like.”
“I’ll have to sneak away for about an hour around one o’clock for a meeting. You two can come and sit in the lobby at the arena or keep shopping, and I’ll come right back there when I’m done.”
I looked over at Ireland and could tell that, while she wanted to go shopping, she wasn’t sure about hanging out with me without Aaron around.
“How about we decide after we eat? Let’s see how we feel then, okay?”
I glanced at Aaron, who winked at me, and Ireland was relieved.
Vivian
“Hey, ladies, we have gotten a lot accomplished so far.” He held up several bags. “But it’s almost one. I have to head to the arena. Do you want to stay and shop or come with me?”
It was the subtle movement, Ireland taking one step closer to Aaron. I knew what I needed to do for her comfort. “We’ll go with you. That will give us time to mark off the things we got and decide what we still need.”
We piled into the Porsche Cayenne and headed to the arena.
“Can we walk around?” Ireland asked.
“Sure, just stay with Vivian. I’ll text you two when I’m done if you aren’t in the lobby,” Aaron said as we walked around to the side entrance.
A camera flashed, I flinched. “Aaron, where have you been?” a reporter asked.
“Don’t you have a home; are you just lying in wait?” Aaron barked back.
“This is my home, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
We ignored him, Aaron didn’t say anything else as the man continued shouting questions and we pushed inside. Aaron locked the door behind him.
“What was that man screaming about?” Ireland asked.
“I’ll explain after my meeting, but let me show you where I’ll be.” Aaron led us down a hall. “See the basketballs on the floor that’s what you’re going to follow. There are a few halls that look exactly the same, and they put these on the floor so us jock-heads don’t get confused.” He smiled.
The hallway opened to a lobby that looked to house several offices as well as a giant conference room. “Okay, we’ve got it from here, right, Ireland?”
“Right.” Ireland kept her eyes on Aaron as he stared at her.
“After this, why don’t we go get you a cell phone?”
“My very own?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “That way you’ll always be able to reach me, okay?”
Her lips were tight, but she nodded.
Aaron headed into the office, and I held out my hand for Ireland, but she didn’t take it. So, we just walked side by side. “Do you play basketball?”
“I used to with my dad. Do you?”
“Never played. If you promise not to make fun of me, I’ll tell you a secret.”
The grin she gave me was wide and full of anticipation. “Promise.”
“I don’t know how to play.”
Her jaw dropped with shock. “You don’t know how?”
“Nope. I saw Aaron play once, but that was about it.”
“I think that I’ve seen just about every one of his games.”
“You’ll have to teach me how to play sometime.”
“I can do that. Aaron can help too.” Ireland’s face lit up with excitement.
We rounded a corner and got our first glimpse of the court, the same one from the game a few weeks ago. Banners were lining the arena, benches decorated, and a big scoreboard in one corner.
“Come on.” I raced forward, happy that she followed. “This is where Aaron plays when he has home games. I think this might be where he practices too.”
“Look.” Ireland pointed to a ball. “I’ll teach you now.” She raced over, grabbed it, and started to dribble. “Catch.” She tossed it to me. “Now you dribble.” Ireland mimicked bouncing the ball with her hand.
So, I dribbled. I didn’t tell her that I knew some simple basics like the word dribble; she was alive with excitement teaching me. I bounced the ball with my left hand, then my right. “Catch.” I tossed it back to her.
“Okay, so that’s pretty much all we do as we work our way down the court until we get close enough to the basket. Then we shoot. We want the ball to go into the basket.”
“Way up there?”
“Yep, way up there.”
“Okay. That seems easy enough.”
She laughed and passed the ball back to me. I took a step and dribbled, my hand-eye coordination was seriously lacking. Step, dribble, pass—crap, I forgot to shout catch. I watched Ireland as she dribbled and ran at the same time. Her hands moved in sync, and less than a second later, the ball was back to me. Shit, shit, shit. Walk, dribble, walk, dribble. “Catch!”
Ireland giggled as she continued her fluid motions, and we were at the basket. She tossed and missed. “Now your try, Vivian.”
I took the ball and focused on the basket. Then I cradled that orange, grainy sphere in both hands, swung almost to the floor between my feet, and launched it toward the basket. It went up, up, and over the basket.
Ireland was on the floor cracking up. “No one shoots like that.”
“I do, I just did.”
“No, let me
