Read Online Birthright by Judith Arnold - Free Book Online Page A

there implied that maybe she was going to donate money to his program. He told himself the awareness buzzing through him, as fierce and physical as an electric shock, had nothing to do with her personally, her beauty, her eyes the color of her dress, her hair the color of the sun. He told himself the reason he was having trouble catching his breath was that he’d been running pretty much nonstop for the past half hour.
    After a moment his breathing finally began to get more regular. His eyes adjusted to the bright outside light, and once they did she looked more like a human being than an apparition out of his dreams.
    Money, he thought. Money is the only thing Lily Holden can give me.
    “Have you been standing here long?” he asked.
    “Just a couple of minutes. I hope you don’t mind.” She gave him that shy smile that said she wasn’t quite as self-assured as he assumed.
    “No problem.” He glanced over his shoulder at the kids, who were beginning to look bored. Another few seconds, and they’d be hurling cups of water at each other. “I’ve got to get back to work,” he said,then gestured toward the bottom bench of the bleachers, which were folded shut along one wall. “If you want to sit and watch, feel free. We’ve got about an hour still to go here.”
    “Thanks.” She entered the gym and arranged herself neatly on the end of the bench, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her knees.
    He returned to the children, who were gathered across the gym from where Lily was seated, and told himself not to think about the fact that she was there, watching him. “All cooled off?” he asked them.
    “Yeah!”
    “Okay. I want each of you to take a ball.” He loosened the drawstring on the mesh ball bag and passed basketballs around until each child had one. He took one for himself and tossed the bag aside. “Everybody spread out a little so you won’t be in each other’s way. Now what we’re going to do—” he waited until they’d arranged themselves around the gym “—is dribble with your right hand. Everyone raise your right hand.” Jimmy raised his left hand. “Jimmy?” Aaron prodded. Jimmy quickly switched hands and smirked. “Okay. You’re all going to dribble with your right hand while singing ‘Happy Birthday.”’
    This prompted roars of laughter. “Happy Birthday to who ?” Jessica wanted to know.
    “To me. Coach Maz. Okay? Let’s—”
    “Is it your birthday?”
    “No. We’re just singing to Coach Maz because Coach Maz is the boss. Okay? Ready, set, go.” He started dribbling and singing, all the while surveying the children. The task, which had obviously soundedsilly when he’d described it, was actually quite challenging. The kids kept stopping and starting the singing as they struggled with their dribbling. By the third line of the jingle, no two kids were singing together. By the end, they had all dissolved in laughter, except for Andy, whose ball had gotten away from him and rolled to the far side of the gym.
    Once Andy had returned with his runaway ball, Aaron settled them down and said, “Now we’re going to do it again, only this time you have to alternate hands—one dribble left, one dribble right, left, right.” He demonstrated. “Got it?”
    “Are we still singing?”
    “Still singing. Ready, set, go!”
    This time both Andy and Stacy lost their balls, and everyone was giggling well before they got to “Happy Birthday, Coach Ma-a-az…”
    Aaron didn’t mind. This wasn’t a voice lesson. It was an exercise designed to help them learn how to focus, and once the children calmed down he told them so. “The idea,” he explained, “is to reach a point where dribbling is so natural to you, you don’t even have to think about it while you do it. You can be dribbling and thinking about something completely different—like, is the rest of your team set up for a play? Do you have an opening for an inside shot? Is your forward ready to receive the ball? Will