Chapter 18
The smile on Sloan’s face is permanent as she sets the table in her kitchen, humming a tune and doing fancy twirls every few steps as she goes back and forth for more supplies.
I sit at the table watching her hips sway and her chestnut hair flip. It’s been a week since I last saw her, and she mentioned on the phone that she has some news to share with me, but she wanted to wait until she saw me.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re so happy?” I ask impatiently. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m enjoying the show, but the suspense is killing me.”
Sloan sets a plate down in front of me and smiles. “Yes, I’ll tell you.” She takes a deep breath and sits down on the chair beside me. Splaying her hands out on the table, she looks at me and says, “Margaret and Callum sent a new custody agreement to my lawyer today.”
My body instantly stiffens. The truth is, any time Callum’s name is mentioned, I tense. I hate that wanker. “What kind of new agreement?” I ask, my tone wary.
Sloan bites her lip and surprises me when a huge smile spreads across her face. “Callum wants to revise our agreement so he only has Sophia every other weekend now, instead of every other week.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, are you saying he wants less time with her?”
“Yes,” she replies with wide eyes. “It was Margaret’s idea.”
I sit back in my chair as I attempt to understand. “This doesn’t make any sense. You said when he asked you for a divorce, he threatened to go for full custody.”
“I know.”
“So, what’s changed?”
“Margaret’s changed,” Sloan answers and props her elbows on the table.
She proceeds to tell me all about her talk with Margaret last Sunday.
About Callum’s new engagement and how disgusted Margaret is by the way her son has been behaving.
She even tells me about the Coleridge connection to Kid Kickers and how disappointed Margaret is in Callum’s lack of interest.
I shake my head as I digest all this information.
The truth is, I already knew the Coleridge name was involved in my foundation, but I wasn’t sure to what level.
And Callum’s name has never been attached to anything, so I assumed it wasn’t him specifically.
But the biggest matter at hand is the change he’s requesting with Sophia.
“So you’re saying Sophia is going to be around a lot more?” I ask, looking at Sloan, who’s watching me with anticipation.
“Yes,” she replies with a smile and stands up to continue setting the table. She opens a drawer and grabs some silverware while adding, “The new arrangement goes into effect when Margaret passes away. Kind of morbid, I know, but I signed the new papers two days ago, so it’s really happening!”
With a genuine smile, I rush over to scoop Sloan up in a giant hug. Her giddiness is infectious as I spin her around, her hands full of cutlery. She squeals happily and begs for me to put her down.
When I lower her to the floor, my smile slightly falls. “Is Sophia okay with this? I mean, I’m sure she loves her dad. This can’t be easy for her.”
Sloan nods, a look of understanding on her face.
“She is. We had a long talk before I signed the papers. I kind of fibbed a bit and told her it is because Callum’s job is so demanding and he will have even less time once Margaret passes on.
But I honestly think she knows the truth. Sophia is so damn smart.”
My lips pull into a sad smile. “I hate that she can sense his disinterest even more than I hate his disinterest.”
Sloan gives my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Trust me, I’m going to make up for it. And maybe her time with Cal will be better quality now that it’s less.”
“We can certainly hope,” I reply before another thought dawns on me. “Does this mean I’ll be seeing a lot less of you?”
Sloan’s brow furrows as she reaches up to cup my jaw.
“Not necessarily. Freya is basically an on call babysitter whenever I need her. She loves Sophia almost as much as I do, so you and I will have our time together. And I know this is a lot, but if you’re ready to officially meet Sophia, I’d love that.
But if you think it’s too soon, we can wait. ”
I move in to press my lips to hers, halting her doubts right where they are. I pull back and murmur, “It’s not too soon.”
Sloan smiles and kisses me again. “Good. I’m thinking maybe at a park. I can make us a picnic or something.”
“I have an idea actually. One that I’ve been thinking about for a while now.
” I rub the back of my neck nervously as Sloan waits for me to elaborate.
“What would you say if I told you I want to start training Sophia in football? One-on-one. Just the two of us. Very low chance of injury. We’d take it slow for starters and build her up as you feel more comfortable. ”
Sloan’s eyes go wide. “You would do that?”
“Of course I would. I know you’re worried about her health, so perhaps we can speak to her doctor about it first. I’d be happy to go along with you to be sure he’s given the full scope of what I’d be doing with her.”
“Gareth,” Sloan says my name with a sigh. “Are you for real?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“You’re a professional athlete who’s training for the World Cup. It’s a very, very big deal.”
I roll my eyes as she stares back at me with her jaw dropped. “I do have one condition, though.”
Her brows lift. “Name it.”
My brows lift right back. “You never say soccer again.”
She laughs at my response and thumps my chest playfully. “And what if I slip?”
I lean down and playfully kiss her nose. “Then I get to use the handcuffs again.”
“Deal!” she replies with a giggle, her face so beautiful and full of light. I can’t help but pick her up and prop her on the counter so we’re eye-to-eye and I can take it all in.
“This is going to be good, Treacle. I can feel it.”
“It’s already more than good, Gareth.”
“Hello there, Sophia. It’s nice to officially meet you.”
The brown-eyed stunner eyes me carefully from her spot on the grass in the back garden of Sloan’s home. I’ve set up a child-sized goalpost, along with several bright cones for some drills we’ll play a little later.
After a minute, Sophia accepts my outstretched hand in hers. “You can call me Sopapilla if we become friends, but I’m not sure we are friends yet.”
With a smile, I drop down on one knee so we’re eye level. Sophia’s chestnut hair is tied up into a high ponytail, and she’s kitted out in bright pink and green footy gear all the way down to her multicoloured football socks covering her shin guards.
Her mother certainly dressed her for this occasion.
I begin digging out several balls from the sack I brought with me and ask, “Do you remember me from the Kid Kickers camp?”
“Maybe,” she replies, pressing her pointer finger to her chin in thought. “But there were a lot of you big guys running around.”
I nod knowingly. “Three of those guys were my brothers.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s a looot of brothers. Are they quite noisy?”
I frown and do my best to answer her question with a serious face. “Quite noisy. But they live in London now, so I don’t hear them nearly as well as I used to when we were young.”
“London is where the Queen lives!” Sophia peals excitedly.
“Do you like the Queen?”
“Oh yes, I love her a lot. Mum took me to see Buckingham Palace once, and the Queen actually drove by while we were there. It was fantastic. I think she waved right at me!”
I lift my brows in appreciation. “I’m sure she did.”
Suddenly, her face falls. “I wasn’t invited in for tea, though.”
“Are you mates with the Queen?” I ask, trying my hardest not to smile but failing quite a bit I fear.
“No, but my class had a tea party in honour of her birthday. We sent her an invitation and everything, but she didn’t come.” She stares down at her feet with disappointment.
I nudge her on the shoulder. “I’m sure she had a full schedule that day.”
She thinks on that logic for a minute, then says, “Or maybe the postman lost the invitation.”
“I bet that’s it,” I reply with a wink. “So, Sophia, would you like to play some football today?” I ask, handing her the special pink ball I bought for her to keep.
Sophia clutches the ball in her hands and looks over her shoulder at Sloan, who’s standing watch from the paved area by the house with Freya right beside her. The two women have their hands covering their mouths as they appear to be whispering back and forth to each other.
Sophia crooks her finger for me to come closer and cups her hand to whisper in my ear. “Don’t let my mum hear you call it football. She’s very American and gets kind of cross when I say football.”
“Not anymore,” I reply with another wink, then shout over to Sloan. “Sloan! What game are Sophia and I going to play today?”
Sloan’s eyes narrow in silent warning, and Freya hits her with an elbow to the arm. “Fine…It’s football!”
Sophia’s eyes are wide on me. “You know football and magic if you got my mum to call it that!”
I laugh and stand up quickly, spreading my legs out wide. “Are you ready to play some football, Sophia?”
She beams up at me and answers, “Call me Sopapilla.”
The first half hour, I work on teaching Sophia how to kick with the sides of her feet instead of the tips of her toes. Then we move onto some basic manoeuvres, which is hilarious in and of itself because she has an anecdote or story for almost every move I show her.
“That pullback thingy you just did is like when I offer candy to Cason, then say, ‘Teased you!,’ and pull it back before he can grab it.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” I retort, holding the ball on my hip to listen. “Sounds as if you’re toying with Cason’s emotions.”
“He’s not very nice to me!” she exclaims with a stomp of her booted foot. “Yesterday, he stole my new markers that Mum just got me. I had to chase him all the way to the boys’ bathroom and wait for him to come out.”