Sweet Tia

Eventually April woke up and groggily peeked over Katia's shoulder. She looked at me, and then at her, and then at me. Then she rolled her eyes and said, "God . . . get a fucking room," and dropped her head back down to go to sleep.

***

It was late in the school year as I sat back on the bleachers, watching Darien Jacobs tossing air balls to Barnaby Barnes, who the guys were calling Barnes. The year had been filled with trying days as well as successful ones. The two boys actually connected on a personal level, and I was thrilled to have played such an important role in it. Even Tim Simmons ended up catching on and working well with Kyle Langley, although that pair didn't have the same chemistry.

Unchecked, I knew the path Darien had been on. Paired with his buddy Tim, they would have excelled beyond greatness, and found few limitations to their strength. Now however, each had an outlet for their natural ability that went deeper than just winning games and being the best. Their egos were tied to their buddy's success, and each little triumph they found as an unlikely pair was yet another win to celebrate.

It felt great to be able to make this kind of impact on these kids, year after year. There was a Darien and Tim in every class, and Barnaby and Kyle as well. I wanted to show them that true happiness lies in the impact you have on another, and when you give something meaningful of yourself to someone who lacks your strengths, the effects ripples ever outward.

My own teachers unknowingly made a bad move letting Dan and me have the run of the school, and it left us both empty inside. It's hard to sustain that winning feeling when success comes at the expense of others; opposing teams or opposing forces. When you win, you receive praise and rewards, but you leave the battlefield strewn with loss.

So coaching for me is about the person, not the sport. I train minds to accomplish goals, not to achieve wins or break records. I lift up the person, so they may lift up another.

A noise in my pocket broke my reverie, and I pulled out my phone and swiped at the screen.

"What's up Billie?" I said into the device. My sister's fiancé, who still liked to be called April in bed, called me more often than anyone.

"Your sister is really pissing me off today," she ranted on the other line, "when are you coming home?"

"I'm getting off early to pick up the flowers," I said, "just hold on a little longer. Mom and Dad will only be around for a couple days, then we can go back to normal."

"Yeah, normal," she audibly rolled her eyes, "now we'll be a married lesbian couple living with a single hot guy. At least we'll be back in one bed again soon."

I relished those words. Ever since we all moved in together, we found sleeping apart almost impossible. I loved Billie as much as Katia, and the three of us shared a unique relationship and a deep personal understanding; not to mention mind blowing sex.

We had to keep up appearances, especially with our parents, but it was getting easier as time went on. I think Mom suspected something as my constant bachelorhood and no grandchildren was starting to drag out.

That was okay though, my sister and I felt as if a new dawn had risen on our lives and our relationship. We were enjoying a new exploration of life, of each other and of a new relationship with an exciting and passionate lover. The three of us rarely fought, and instead worked to understand each other and find new ways of giving ourselves freely.

So there it was. Never again would I rest in the knowledge that I was enough. There would always be more ways to grow, more ways to help, more ways to give and get love. I would keep looking for them, and not taking anything or anyone in my life for granted, ever again.

*****

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