Chapter 18
CREW
“Just prepare yourself for any offhanded remarks. The best thing to do is ignore him or fire back. Either will do.”
“Put him in his place. Got it.”
I knock on the door to Jack’s brick, Southern-style home, and stand back with Juniper, waiting for him to answer. Right now, my biggest wish is that he has clothes on and at least showered.
He won’t be happy I brought Juniper, but I don’t care. I wanted to spend time with her, and this seemed like the best option. The safest option.
Rattling stirs from behind the hefty double doors before opening, revealing my head coach in all his glory. Well, glory might be a stretch to describe his current condition.
“The fuck you doing here?” he grunts, careless of how unkept he looks.
I glance down at his stained sweatpants and oversized hoodie that looks days past washing. Yep. He definitely didn’t shower.
Jesus Christ, Jack. What are you doing to yourself? I refrain from pointing out his dirty hair and overgrown beard, although those are very unlike him, too.
“It’s Sunday.”
He shakes his head like he’s already fed up with me. “Well, no shit,” he mocks.
I hold up a six-pack of ginger beer—the non-alcoholic kind. “What does it look like? I’m here to visit. Now, let us in.”
He eyes my gifted beverage and smirks. “Us?” His head jerks back in question, eyeing Juniper for a moment shortly after, and reverting back to me. “Never seen her a day in my life.”
“Juniper Wilde.” She holds out her hand in greeting, saving me from the introduction. “I’m a friend of Crew’s.”
He watches her again with uncertainty, likely stirring with questions for me. I’m counting on it. “A friend of Crew’s…why do I have a haunting feeling that’s not the case?”
I get it. It’s not every day I’m seen with a beautiful woman as my chosen company, unless we’re talking about Adeline. But a guy is entitled to a pretty friend if he so chooses.
Truthfully, it would be nice if I weren’t questioned for every decision I make.
“That’s because—” I rush to speak, but Juniper beats me to it.
“Because I’m a catch. I can gossip with the girls and shoot the shit with the guys. I’m every man’s dream girl. Isn’t that right, Suburban Daddy?” She winks, nudging my side.
Rendering me speechless, Jack busts into a fit of laughter, all thoughts of welcoming a stranger inside long gone.
“Suburban Daddy? Oh, this shit just got good. I’m in need of some decent entertainment.
Come on inside, dream girl. Can I interest you in a beer?
” I don’t miss his scoff at the soda hanging from my fingertips.
So much for encouraging sobriety.
“A beer sounds fabulous, Jack. Thank you.” I should have prepped her ahead of time.
Jack waves us inside while I follow behind Juniper. However, I’m quickly halted by his hand at my chest and a gruff whisper in my ear, “One hour. This ain’t some long visit, Briggs. I’m in no shape for company. Especially when it looks like her. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Coach.”
We’ve been here two hours now, and I’m not sure I have it in me to try and leave. It’s been months since I’ve seen Jack this…chatty. Maximum effort is typically required in order to get a simple sentence out of him these days.
I mean, the guy lost his wife, so it makes sense. But I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that there’s more to it than just that. He and Taylor were never like your typical couple in love.
They rarely did anything together, and anyone close to Jack knows their story. Before marriage, Jack and Taylor got pregnant with a baby boy, who they tragically lost shortly after birth. A horror I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
And maybe that makes me fucked in the head for thinking it, but I can’t help but truly wonder what exactly happened in Taylor’s last days.
Something in my gut just doesn’t feel right.
I’m well aware it’s not my business to know, and I’ve accepted that.
I’ll keep showing up for him until he’s good—better—on the other side of his grief, and on the off chance he decides to confide in me, I’ll be here to listen.
Maybe that’s where my surprise from tonight comes in. Every fucking Sunday, I show up at Jack’s house to talk, sit, help around the house—it’s different every time. But the one thing that never changes is his urgency for me to leave.
He appreciates his alone time a lot more than I’m often comfortable with, and just from my own observations, he depends on the bottle more now than ever.
Today, there’s a shift.
He and Juniper are two beers deep, and I’ve been sipping on the same bottle of water since I got here.
“A family of hoarders, eh?” Jack questions in bewilderment. We’re staked out on his back porch, sitting around a patio table while Jack smokes a cigar.
Juniper sips her beer. “Crazy, right? My life feels like some women’s fiction documentary.”
“You should write a book,” he jokes, laughing to himself.
“And you should drink some water,” I interrupt, swapping Jack’s beer for a water bottle.
“Fucking buzzkill,” he groans. I don’t miss Juniper’s curious eyes on me, watching how I interact with my head coach. The truth is, I hate to see him like this. Years before, he was the go-to guy for a good time and the hard truth. The team could always count on him for both.
Now, he’s a shell of who we once knew.
Sucks even more knowing this is my last year playing ball.
“You still talk to them?” he asks Juniper, and she quirks a brow. “Your parents.”
She nods slowly, casting her eyes downward before looking up again. Not sure how I missed it, but the same butterfly object I’ve seen her hold before spins nonchalantly in her hands. She works to keep it hidden, but that’s pointless with me. I wonder what it is and why she carries it with her.
“All the time, actually. I don’t hold it against them.”
“And why the hell not?”
“Because they’re grieving. Well, my mom still is, at least. Can’t fault them for that. I’m adult enough to separate the two. At this point, it is what it is.”
I can sense the pause in Jack’s thinking, and I wonder if Juniper struck a nerve. “Just know they wish they were better. It’s not always that simple.” Jack glances my way in sympathy, and I place my hand on his back, silently showing him I’m not going anywhere.
He’s referencing himself, and I’d consider that a positive of tonight.
“Think things will ever change?” I ask Juniper.
She shrugs. “Not sure. I hope so. I spent years trying to get them to clean up their life and start over. Go to therapy. Find new hobbies. All the things. But I learned quickly that I can’t force someone to do something they don’t want to.
So, now I love them from a distance. It’s better for me this way.
Healthier in more ways than one for my mental state. ”
“Only you can advocate for yourself the way you deserve,” Jack chimes in. “That’s really fucking brave, Doc.”
I can’t help it, I nudge his side, and Juniper clocks it.
“Only he gets to call me Doc.” She rolls her eyes, smirking with pride.
“Never said that,” I deadpan, lying through my goddamn teeth.
Like a loose cannon, Jack chuckles abruptly, “Like hell you didn’t. You whipped bastard. What happened to you?”
“We’re just friends.” Jack looks between Juniper and me, questioning us with his eyes. He’s not convinced.
“He’s right. Just friends.” Juniper salutes and continues, “Abiding by that strict doctor-patient confidentiality rule.”
He huffs. “You two must think I’m a fool. You’re seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off on my porch.”
A rush of both humiliation and thrill shoots through me. Am I really that obvious? “Coach,” I sigh.
He holds up a hand, and I prepare for a speech.
“Don’t ‘Coach’ me, Briggs. Just hear me out.
” He points to Juniper, my anxiety causing me to white-knuckle my seat.
She, however, looks ready for whatever lies ahead.
“What’s stopping you from giving this good-looking fella a chance?
” Jack turns his head and pinches the scruff of my neatly trimmed beard.
“He’s a grizzly single dad with a fucking restaurant. What’s not to love about that, Doc?”
Stop calling her that…
Juniper shifts her attention to me and smiles softly. “Everything. He’s pretty great.”
“And you.” He points to me. “Take a look at her. You’re a moron if you let this beautiful woman go as only a friend. That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard. She’s a doctor. And she wears the color black like it was made for her. I bet Doodle loves her, too, doesn’t she?”
Black was made for her. Down to her skintight jeans and faded band tee.
I nod, and he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Thought so. Let me ask you both something, then. What’s stopping you from leaning on each other?
You’re both going through some changes. Briggs, you know I hate to lose you to retirement after this season, but as your friend, I can admit it’s what’s best. And Juniper, from what I’ve learned about you tonight, it’s obvious you’ve been alone for most of your life.
Something tells me you could use someone in your corner who really gets you.
Shows up for you in more ways than one.”
Juniper starts, “I could, but it’s not that simple. Being friends is what’s best for both of us right now. I’ve actually already started dating, so I’m working on finding that person.”
“Dating, huh?” Jack questions, and suddenly, I want to put a hammer through his skull for starting with this shit.
“Not successfully,” I deadpan, knowing Juniper is about to light me on fire. Go ahead. Burn me to the ground, baby. Maybe then I won’t have to suffer through hearing about all the men trying to take you home.
“Crew.” Her tone is thick with attitude. Just the way I like it.
I tilt my head in response, smirking just to be a dick. “It’s true. They aren’t good enough for you.”
Her shoulders lift, and I know it’s her way of seeming unfazed. “Well, that’s for me to decide.”
Jack must sense the tension because he chooses now to change the subject again. “Any improvement on that shoulder?”
I exhale. “Some. The PT has me doing stabilization exercises every other day in the clinic. They help, but the pain at night makes it worse. Hurts like a bitch no matter how I sleep. Dr. Laken mentioned something about curating a throwing analysis this coming week, but it’s useless.
I’ve thrown the same way since I was a kid. It’s just overuse. I know it.”
“Damn,” he sighs. “I’ve seen this happen hundreds of times in my career, but it sucks it’s with you, Briggs. You’re one of the best.”
“I am the best.” I’m also a cocky bastard.
“Evidently not,” he points out, nodding to said elbow before turning to Juniper. “You got any orthopedic experience in that doctor brain of yours, Juniper?’
“She’s a pediatrician, Coach. Let it go.”
“Actually, I studied some in med school. I wouldn’t say it’s my expertise, but I know enough. First thing that came to my mind was grip training. Has the team therapist worked with you on that, Crew?”
“Off and on,” I reply. “Lately, we’ve mostly focused on mobility.”
Juniper nods understandingly. “Might be worth a try. It’s something you can incorporate into your daily routine at home. Something as simple as pulling a towel between your hands to create tension or even a stress ball can make all the difference in building back your forearm strength.”
It amazes me how intelligent she is. Humble about it, too.
I do notice a small difference since starting a more restricted therapy. Adding more movement at home wouldn’t hurt.
“Protecting your UCL is what’s most important, especially since you’re in the thick of the season, when you’ll be using your arm much more than in the offseason.
Obviously, anything you can do to avoid Tommy John surgery is for the best. You’ve got this, Crew.
And I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m here if you need anything at all. Happy to help.”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate that.”
Jack chuckles beside me. “Any chance I can interest you in a job, Dr. Wilde?”
“Oh, she’s Dr. Wilde now?” I gape. “What’s up with you trying to get everyone to work for you?”
He smirks, and I know it’s with devious intent. “Not everyone. Only the people important to my people.”
Before I can respond, Juniper replies, “Tempting offer, but I’ll stick with my snotty-nosed kiddos. I draw a hard line at adult odors.”
Jack holds back an audible grimace. “Can’t say I blame you,” I agree.
Realizing it’s getting late and we still have one last stop before I take Juniper home, I glance at my watch before connecting with her eyes, finding them already set on me. “It’s getting late. You about ready to head out?”
She nods kindly. “Sure. Thanks so much for allowing me to visit, Jack. I know it wasn’t expected, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. You have a beautiful home.”
Jack shakes his head solemnly. “It’s just a home. And you’re welcome any time, Juniper. Within reason,” he adds, quirking a brow at me.
I hold my hands up. “You get a whole week in between my visits, so I don’t want to hear a single complaint.”
“After seeing you nearly every day at Makers,” he adds, making me laugh. I pull him in for a hug. “You take care of yourself, Coach. I know I say it all the time, but if you ever need me, I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”
I expected no response, but his steady blinking in acknowledgment is enough for me. Now that I can confirm Jack is in a good headspace for today, I can finally take Juniper to my favorite spot.
Well, one of them, that is.