Page 128 of Scoring Eden

EDEN (two weeks later)

Macon has a career in hostage negotiation ready for him when he’s older, because against all odds, Alex retained his place on the team. Not only that, but he kept his captaincy.

I’m not sure if Jacqueline conceded because she was moved by my son’s valiance or if she crumbled under the pressure of the entire nation, who really rallied behind us after the display at the press conference. Within an hour, Macon was on every news site, his speech clipped up on social media, with thousands of comments tagging Purview, pleading (and threatening) for them to keep Alex on the team.

Ironically, they found themselves in the eye of the sort of media storm they were so keen on avoiding.

Sucks to be them, I guess.

But it feels great to be us, especially as I watch my son being hauled over the barrier at the end of another Seattle Strikers victory. If they keep playing the way they are, the championship will be theirs long before the season ends.

In the center of the pitch, Alex sits on a plastic foldaway chair. His long hair is loose around his shoulders, catching in the wind that blows in from the open roof of the stadium. He runs a hand through it mourningly, but there’s a soft smile on his face as Macon approaches that tells me he feels no regret for what he’s about to do.

Coach Carter stands behind him, clippers in his hand and an expression of utter jubilation on his face. He might be a hardass, but the man has the current excitement level of a three-month-old labradoodle.

As do Roman and Leo, who have made their way across the pitch to stand by the barrier in front of Brynn, Aspen, and me.

“I can’t believe he’s actually going through with this.” Leo shakes his head.

“I can.” Brynn grins. “There isn’t a lot my brother wouldn’t do for the people he loves. And he loves the shit out of that kid.”

He does.

He really does.

After we got home from the conference with the news that a final decision on Alex’s place on the team would come the next day, he’d spent hours playing video games with Macon before making all his favorite foods. Then he’d insisted on a campout in the living room, because neither one of us wanted to let Macon out of our sights that night.

“He loves Eden the most,” Roman jumps in.

“Nah.” I smile as I watch Alex tickle Macon on the big screen. “He’s got enough room in his heart to love us all the same.”

And that’s just the way I want it. I don’t want to compete with my son, or his sister and best friends. It serves no purpose, and it’d be in vain anyway. Because Alex, whether he realizes it or not, has the capacity for more love than anyone I’ve ever known. He’s just spent his entire life trying to convince himself otherwise.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Coach Carter’s voice booms through the sound system. “Thank you all for waiting before you leave. I know the away fans have left by now, hanging their heads in shame, I’m sure, but it means a lot to have the rest of you here to witness what is surely going to be Alex’s greatest loss in history.” He pauses. “His hair.”

The stadium rumbles with laughter, and Coach waits until it tapers off.

“Sad for me as it is, I’m going to pass the honor of shaving Alex’s head over to this kid here.” He ruffles Macon’s hair. “Because if it weren’t for this brave young man, Alex wouldn’t be sitting here right now, and he certainly wouldn’t have been able to score the winning goal in the eighty-fifth minute tonight, so I think we’ve all got some real appreciation to show.”

Applause like I’ve never heard it shakes the grandstands. Thousands of people, all at once, cheering and hollering for my son, who has been hailed a hero by the Seattle Strikers fans.

I’d wanted so desperately to keep him out of the media. But I think that’s a lost dream for me now, especially as Macon and I will be moving in with Alex to the house in the suburbs when the keys are exchanged next week. I will still do my best to protect him from the paparazzi, but I won’t steal away moments like these.

Besides, my incredible, courageous, endlessly kind son deserves to feel the gratitude of seventy thousand fans. He saved their star player. He saved Alex’s dream.

Macon blushes fifty shades of red on the big screen, but he bows like the professional performer he is and laughs like a hyena when Alex pulls him in for a hug. They exchange words I’ll never know, and that’s okay. This moment is theirs. And I hope they have many more like it.

“Before we get started, I think Alex has a few things to say.”

There’s some shuffling as the microphone is passed between hands, and Alex stands, spinning in a slow circle to address as many people as he can.

“Thanks, Coach.” He clears his throat. “When I originally agreed to do this with Macon, I wasn’t planning on saying any words. But a couple of weeks ago, this kid did something so brave that it made me realize…if a ten-year-old boy can have the courage to stand in front of a room of journalists and the big bosses of an MLS team and speak his truth, then maybe I can learn a little something from him.”

He looks down at the ground and toes a piece of turf. “For those who don’t know, we’re shaving my head to raise money for the Poppy Fields Children’s Home tonight.”

“Oh my God,” Brynn gasps beside me. “Is he gonna…?”

“But the thing none of you know is that I once spent time there myself.”