Seconds passed in strained silence as she waited for me to say something in response. But I had nothing at all to say. I wasn’t mysterious, nor was I an enigma; I was crippled with nerves.
Without looking Harper in the eyes, I curtly nodded my head as a goodbye, and headed back into the locker room. I felt her watching me all the way to the door, but I never looked back.
Seeing the rest of the team beginning to fill the room, and not wanting to get a grilling from Jake and Ashton, I grabbed my sports bag and hightailed it out the door. I rushed to my Jeep and threw myself behind the wheel. In seconds I was on the road, my heart cracking over the fact that my rosary had gone.
It was strange; without those beads, I felt that a piece of my soul had been taken too.
A light rain drizzled against my windshield. As it did, I became lost in my thoughts. The first thing I saw in my mind’s eye was the girl in the locker room: the thief. As I thought of her small hands rooting in my bag, my chest tightened. She was so thin, like starved thin. She was pitted with dirt, her blond hair was unkempt and unwashed. Her legs were like pins in her sodden jeans and her chucks were full of holes.
I frowned, forcing myself to remember the glimpse I’d had of her face. I caught myself swallowing as I remembered those huge blue eyes, sunken into her cheeks. The more I thought of that glimpse, I guessed that she must be a few years younger than me. Younger than me and stealing from a locker room.
Stealing my rosary.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I was furious. I was hurt. I was devastated. Yet I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl. She reminded me of some of the girls we brought into Lexi’s center; the new center she’d created here in Seattle for troubled teens. The girl had resembled some of the ones I would register into the computer system, when I helped Lexi out during the week. The blonde looked homeless and dirt poor. I shifted on my heated seat. I remembered what it felt like to be poor. I hated seeing the young runaways, or bullied teens, in the center when they’d come in all broken and alone.
I saw my mamma in every one of their faces—silently crying out for help. Soon my anger toward the girl dissipated, only to be replaced by intense sorrow. No one should ever have to feel like that. No one should ever be so broken and alone.
Turning up the speaker system, my favorite song from Band of Horses filled the Jeep. I pressed my foot on the gas pedal and sped all the way home.
Pulling into the driveway, I parked the car in front of the house, and walked in the front door. The sound of soft singing from the living room greeted me—Lexi.
I put my bag on the floor beside the living room entrance and headed in her direction. I couldn’t help but smile when I did. Lexi was holding Dante, her new baby son, in her arms; she rocked him back and forth, singing lullabies to my cute as hell nephew.
Obviously sensing me standing in the doorway, Lexi turned. On seeing it was me, a smile spread on her lips.
“Hey Lev,” she whispered quietly. Lexi glanced back at Dante. I could see, even from here, that his eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out with sleep.
Lexi moved to the Moses basket in the center of the room, and with a kiss to his chubby cheeks, she laid him down. I watched, arms folded over my chest. All I felt was warmth.
I loved Lexi. She was an amazing mother. And even though she was only seven years older than me, she was kind of a mother to me too.
I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at the floor until I saw Lexi’s tiny bare feet in my line of sight. Looking up, her green eyes were watching me in concern.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked, her black eyebrows pulled down in worry.
Sighing, I shook my head. “Nothing, Lex. Just got off practice early. And I’m kinda tired. Thought I’d come home and get started on my assignments.”
Lexi’s eyes narrowed, but I turned and picked up my bag. “I’ll be in my pool house,” I called back over my shoulder, and walked out of the kitchen door into the backyard. I didn’t hear anything else as I cut through the wide garden and passed the pool. The rain was pouring now, from a gray and overcast sky.
I entered the pool house and threw my bag down beside the door. I headed straight for my closet to change into some dry clothes, when my eyes landed on the picture on my dresser. It was my mamma; my mamma smiling and holding me in her arms. I was about three. We both looked happy. Then my eyes drifted to my mamma’s hand, and there, clutched in her palm were the brown rosary beads she’d treasured so much. That I now treasured so much.
The ones that had now gone.
My hands ran through my still-wet hair, my eyes glued to the picture, when I heard the pool house door click open behind me. I turned to see Lexi slipping through, her black hair now damp from the downpour.