On the Sunday afternoon they told him he was going to the big leagues, Eddy Alvarez drove to the house he grew up in. Over those five blocks he thought about how to tell his parents, Walter and Mabel.
Not the words. Those he’d known for about forever, had even once practiced before, after those few minutes up on an Olympic podium. This, him, whatever would come of him, would honor them first.
But how, exactly, in a pandemic, like from how far away, when a phone call wasn’t near good enough, not when he’d been talking about this day since he was 6 years old, not when they’d committed to the same dream.