Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ADAM
Faith was right to take a step back. I needed to take a step back too.
Between Christmas trees and inviting her over, she consumed my thoughts all weekend.
I kept thinking of wanting to hold her hand, the way her freckles stood out when she blushed, and how she smelled like flowers.
I didn’t think about her mouth and how she bit her bottom lip when she tried not to watch me take my shirt off at the doctor’s.
I hadn’t felt that pull of wanting physical touch from a woman for a long time; it seemed to come back stronger than I remembered. I should’ve been grateful she declined Danny’s offer to come to our house and decorate our tree. I wasn’t, but I should’ve been.
The ref blew the whistle loudly, pulling my thoughts back into the game. Focus. Foul. Number 44.
Great, that’s three for Connor. I hollered down the line for Jackson to sub in for him. I waved Connor off the court, over to me.
“I’m sorry, Coach, I thought my feet were planted.” I handed him a water bottle and nodded.
I also thought he was too, but admittedly, I was a little distracted. “That’s okay. Take a second to rest. You’ll go back in after the half.”
“Come on!! What kinda call was that!? He was planted,” Connor’s dad Tony shouted from the stands. “BOOOO!!”
I faced the stands and saw a bag of popcorn flying toward the court. I was going to have to ask him to leave again. I turned my attention back to the game. We were behind 28 to 33, and it was two minutes until half. Connor shook his head. “Sorry, Coach, I can’t control my dad, I—”
“You’re right, your father’s actions are not in your control.” I patted him on the back. “Just focus on the game.” Connor sat on the folded metal chair. I needed to take my own advice.
I thought through plays and what I knew of their team. Their boys were getting tired. They weren’t used to the fast game we played and should take a hit in the second half. Part of winning this game seemed to be outrunning the other team.
The boys hated all the sprints we did, but I could tell it was paying off.
“Come on, Coach! Put forty-four back in!” Now Tony was yelling at me. I ignored him. There was no use in me embarrassing Connor for the behavior of others.
The Panthers scored again. Dang.
The halftime buzzer sounded, and the team stood from the bench and clumped together as they went toward the visitor locker room. We were down, but not by so much that morale was down.
“If you don’t want to lose, you better put 44 back in,” Tony hollered.
I turned and took the stairs two at a time up to Connor’s dad, who was fifteen or so years older than me, had weasel-stringy hair, and smelled of alcohol. I towered over him.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Tony, but you will leave the second half if you can’t be respectful.”
He scoffed and shifted his gaze to the people around us watching the exchange. I hated making a scene, but I wouldn’t let him continue to be disrespectful.
“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me?” He smirked.
“I don’t think he needs any help,” someone hollered nearby, but I kept my focus on Tony.
I used my six-foot-five stature to my advantage. “I’m the coach. I say who plays and when.” I stepped closer, so he had to crane his neck to see my face. “If I can expect a team of teenagers to be respectful, I can certainly expect it from a grown man.” I glared at him.
He scoffed and huffed, but he wouldn’t bite now, not with so many witnesses to watch him lose.
“This is your last warning. One more negative comment about the refs, or throwing food, and you will be leaving.” I crossed my arms over my chest, fully aware of how it pressed my biceps forward. “Understood?”
“Whatever.” Tony stood up on wobbly legs. “It’s not like I wanted to stay and watch you lose, anyway.” He pointed at my chest, and I held my ground. “You are the worst coach we have had.”
I shrugged but refused to move.
He stepped gingerly around me and muttered something about suing.
“Get in line.”
He stumbled down the stairs toward the exit.
“You’d better not be driving home,” I called after him. I only hoped he wouldn’t take his anger out on someone other than me later, namely his son. Even though Connor was a good foot taller than him, I don’t think that boy had a mean bone in his body.
I rushed to the locker room. “All right boys, this next half is ours.” I rubbed my hands together and met their eyes.
“You guys are doing great.” I sat on the folding chair, completing the circle.
“Now, what have you noticed about their players?” I enjoyed the boys’ opinions, and when they took an interest, they would be more invested in the outcome.
Jackson spoke up. “They recognize the gold play. They have started preemptively going where the ball will be passed.” He shrugged. “Maybe we can change the name for the next half.”
My brow furrowed and looked up. “I don’t want to confuse our own team in the process.”
Jacob raised his hands. “Please, we can handle a name change.”
I raised my right shoulder. “All right, what do you want to change it to?”
“Let’s change it to ‘Danny,’” Connor added.
The boys nodded collectively.
My chest warmed at the goodness of these kids. “Deal. What else?” I asked.
“They are getting tired. What if we full court press and see if we can keep the pressure on?” Jacob added.
I snapped my finger and pointed at Jacob. “My thoughts exactly.”
Last night’s game was in a town forty-five minutes away, so between that and the icy roads, we didn’t get back to the school until past midnight, so I crashed on Mom’s couch.
Danny needed his rest, so we decided he would come to home games.
Today was his first day back at school since he sprained his wrist.
He didn’t love staying with Mom, but I also didn’t have a lot of options.
Cassie’s parents had moved out of Hillsdale a few years ago.
They sent him cards on his birthdays but never really wanted much to do with the day-to-day.
I wasn’t sure they would even recognize him.
It was Danny, Mom, and me against the world.
I showered and got ready for the day, letting Danny sleep a little longer. Then, I grabbed some clean clothes for Danny from the suitcase and went to my old bedroom and knocked on the door.
“All right, Champ, it’s time to get ready for school.” I opened the door and stepped over to Danny. I rubbed his back over his Spiderman pj’s. He turned over and pulled the blankets up over his head. “Danny, bud, it’s time to get ready for school.” At least there was no practice after school today.
Danny began snoring again. I patted his back. “Danny.”
Nothing.
“Danny, you’ve gotta get up.” I pulled the blankets from over his head.
Danny stretched and rubbed his eyes with his non injured hand and yawned. “Hey, Dad, did you guys win?”
I ruffled his hair. “We did. By almost ten points.”
I helped him take off his shirt. “Nice! Can I come next time? I need to hand out the water bottles.”
I loved when he came with me. “It was an away game, bud, and I didn’t get home till really late, and Faith”—I flinched—“I mean Ms. Faith said you need your sleep.” I put on his blue shirt, the one he liked with no tags.
“Next home game, okay?” Ugh! This was feeling way too complicated.
I didn’t know how to think or talk about Faith.
He scrunched his eyebrows. “Dad, Grandma burnt the pizza, her milk tasted yucky, and her internet didn’t work.”
Ouch. It sounded like Mom had had a rough night.
I changed his pants and grabbed his pj’s to wash at home. “Sorry, Champ. We have to make it work sometimes. She loves you and is trying her best.”
He hopped out of bed. “I know! I could stay with Ms. Faith instead. I could help her make cookies.” He smiled up at me, eyes full of excitement.
Oh boy, I had better handle this. It looked like, once again, Faith was right with Danny. “I’m glad you like your teacher, but it’s probably best if we don’t mix up home and school things too much.” I bit the inside of my cheek.
I grabbed clean socks and slid them on his feet.
“What do you mean?”
How could I say this so he would understand? He pulled his sock off, and we had to try twice more to get it lined up right on his toes. I chewed on my cheek. “Ms. Faith is your school teacher. And that’s the role she needs to stay in. You understand that, right?”
Danny pulled away, but I needed him to hear this.
“Danny, Ms. Faith is a great friend, but she isn’t part of our family.” I searched his eyes. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He leaned away. “I mean…maybe.”
Dang. I wanted to be all Danny needed, but I couldn’t fault him when even I felt something special with Faith. But I didn’t know who Faith was, not really. I asked around, and no one knew who she was before she came here. I knew she was from back east, but that was about it.
How could I navigate this without hurting Danny?
When we finally got sock two lined up acceptably, I grabbed his shoes where Mom had left them by the bedroom wall.
The best thing for Danny would be to not disrupt his life for an unknown relationship.
To be rejected again would be like starting over mentally for us both. That was too much pressure. It wasn’t worth it.
I tied his shoes in a double knot and grabbed his backpack.
“But we are still meeting with Ms. Faith for the business thing, right?” He grabbed his tablet and charger from the wall.
“Yeah. Let’s get you some breakfast.”
“I don’t want Grandma’s cereal. Her milk tastes funny.”
“Okay, how about we go get Sam’s maple bars and hot chocolate?”
That put an immediate skip in his step as he rushed out the door and down the hall.
In the living room, the Christmas tree was full of lights and homemade ornaments.
I told Mom I would go get her a tree, but she grabbed one from the Merc before I could, and I was okay with one less thing to do.
It didn’t smell as good as the tree we got, but it was pretty and had a much better shape.
Maybe I shouldn’t have given the tree to Faith, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, she helped cut it down; she earned it.
Danny reached for the front door handle. I stopped him and bundled him in his orange sweater, coat, gloves, and hat. It was tricky, but we left the braced arm against his chest.
I opened the front door, and the cold air immediately made our breath a cloud of smoke around us. “When do we meet with Ms. Faith together again then?”
“Not sure, Champ.” I sighed and helped him up into the seat of the truck and I reminded myself that Faith was Danny’s teacher and nothing more.
I needed to stop thinking about Faith’s bright, kind eyes, her pink lips, and how I couldn’t breathe when she placed her hand on mine. In fact, I needed to stop thinking about her altogether.
Danny constantly bringing her up wasn’t helping.