Summer Love: The Best Mistake / Impulse

“Got it!”

“A hush falls over the crowd as Fleming steps up to the line. He’s played the game of his life tonight, but it all comes down to this one shot. He eyes the basket. You eyeing the basket?”

“Eyeing it,” Keenan said, with his tongue caught between his teeth.

“He sets… and shoots.” Coop winced as the little rubber ball circled the rim, then watched through squinted eyes as it tipped in and dropped through the net.

“And the crowd goes wild!” Coop danced around the sofa while Keenan hooted and clapped on his shoulders. When he dumped the boy on the cushions of the sofa, Keenan let go with one of the rolling belly laughs that always made Coop grin. “You’re a natural.”

“You shoot it, Coop! You!”

Obliging, Coop executed a quick turnaround jump shot. This wasn’t such a bad way to spend a rainy afternoon, he decided. And it helped keep his mind off how he was going to spend the rainy night ahead.

It was Wednesday.

“Okay, time out. I’ve got to finish up my piece on the track meet.”

“Are we going to go to the paper again? It’s neat there.”

“Not today. I’m going to fax it in when it’s done. You watch some tube.” Coop hit the remote, then handed it over.

“Can I get a drink?”

“Yeah, there’s some of that juice your mom sent up for you. Stay out of trouble, right?”

“Right.”

When Coop headed into his office, Keenan scrambled up from the couch. He liked it best when he got to stay with Coop after school. They always got to do something neat, and Coop never asked if he’d washed his hands or said too many cookies would spoil his appetite.

Best of all, he liked when Coop picked him up. It was different than when his mother did. He liked when she held him, nuzzled him after his bath or rocked him when he had a bad dream. But Coop smelled different, and felt different.

He knew why, Keenan thought as he wandered into the kitchen. It was because Coop was a daddy instead of a mom.

He liked to pretend Coop was his daddy, and figured that maybe if he didn’t do anything bad, Coop wouldn’t go away.

After a couple of tugs, Keenan had the refrigerator open. He was proud that Coop had hung the pictures he had drawn for him on the door. He peered inside, saw the jug of juice his mother had bought for him. And the green bottles Coop liked.

“B-E-E-R,” Keenan said to himself. He remembered that he’d asked Coop if he could have a taste from the bottle, and that Coop had told him he couldn’t until he was big. After Coop had let him sniff the beer, Keenan had been glad he wasn’t big yet.

There was a new bottle in the fridge today, and Keenan knit his brow and tried to recognize the letters.C-H-A-R-D-O-N— There were too many letters to read, so he lost interest.

He took out the jug, gripping it manfully and setting it on the floor. Humming to himself, he dragged a chair over to get cups from the cabinet. One day he’d be as tall as Coop and wouldn’t need to stand on a chair. He leaned forward on his toes.

The crash and the howl had Coop leaping up, rapping his knee hard against the desk. Papers scattered as he raced out of the office and into the kitchen.

Keenan was still howling. A chair was overturned, juice was glugging cheerfully onto the floor and the refrigerator was wide open. Coop splashed through the puddle and scooped Keenan up.

“Are you hurt? What’d you do?” When his only answer was another sob, he stood Keenan on the kitchen table and searched for blood. He imagined gaping wounds, broken bones.

“I fell down.” Keenan wriggled back into Coop’s arms.

“Okay, it’s okay. Did you hit your head?”

“Nuh-uh.” With a sniffle, Keenan waited for the kisses he expected after a hurt. “I fell on my bottom.” Keenan’s lip poked out. “Kiss it.”

“You want me to kiss your— Come on, kid, you’re joking.”

The lip trembled, another tear fell. “You gotta kiss where it hurts. You gotta, or it won’t get better.”