Chapter 7
Ainsley
Our second practice is underway, and it’s going even better than yesterday.
The team is working hard and showing their strengths. They’re getting along too, which is a plus.
For a few minutes, I forget who’s on the other side of the field.
With the cluster of moms drooling behind the gate.
I force down the gag in the back of my throat and shake my head. “These vultures are ridiculous.”
Raymond grunts. “This is nothing new. You’re only noticing it now because of who they’re gawking over.”
“No, this is different.” I jerk my chin, gesturing to Lucy Brennan. “He doesn’t even drink the coffee she brings him.”
He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Morgan.”
I choke out a laugh. “I don’t want that kind of attention from parents. I’m just saying, it’s inappropriate behavior.”
These moms hassled me when I coached the JV team, making demands as if they had any say in the program.
As if I needed them to tell me what to do with my team.
Yet here they are this season, staring at Landon like he’s something special, giving him compliments and coffee.
It’s degrading at best, and sexist at worst.
I’ve always had to work twice as hard to prove myself, when all he has to do is give them that Landon Fletcher smile.
“You know how these boosters are.” Ray shrugs. “We need to play nice.”
“I know, and I will.” I blow out a frustrated exhale through my nostrils. “But I don’t have to like it.”
As practice winds down and the girls sprawl out on the grass to stretch and catch their breaths, Tori Delgado, my goalie, raises her hand. “Coach, is it true that you and Coach Landon played on the same team in high school?”
I nod, not glancing up from my clipboard so she doesn’t catch my facial expression. “Yep.”
She elbows her teammate, Maddie. “See, I told you!”
Maddie’s head whips to me. “You played on the boys’ team?”
I nod again. “My junior and senior years.”
“Wasn’t it so weird?” she asks.
“Why would it be weird?”
Her brown eyes widen. “Because you were playing with the boys.”
I lift my sunglasses as I lower myself onto the grass with them. “I wouldn’t say it was weird, no. I definitely missed my girls though. That was the hardest part of switching teams.”
The team nods like they can understand.
Raymond’s voice sounds from behind me. “You should’ve seen your coach on the field. She was a force.”
Natalie, my captain, lifts her chin. “Can you show us old tapes of you sometime?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“Hell, yeah, Coach,” Tori says. “You’re so badass.”
A smile creeps onto my face as pride swells in my chest.
“What about Coach Landon?” Maddie asks. “Was he good too?”
I hesitate for only a second before admitting the truth. “Yeah, he was.”
Before they can ask any other probing questions, I push off the grass to stand. “Rest up for tomorrow. Have a good night.”
Turning my back to the moms clamoring for Landon’s attention, I keep my head down and clean up the equipment. I prefer to let everyone vacate the area so I can walk to my car in peace. Ray walks with me to the parking lot ten minutes later.
My stomach sinks when my eyes land on the man leaning against the front bumper of my Jeep. “You better not scratch my paint, Golden Boy.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Landon chuckles as he stands to his full height. “How did practice go?”
“Good.” I toss my duffle into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side. “What do you want?”
He shakes his head as he gazes down at me. “My mom wants to host the pre-game dinner.”
My eyebrows narrow. “What?”
“We both have our first games this Saturday. My mom wants to host dinner Friday night.”
I shake my head before he can finish his sentence. “We don’t do pre-game dinners. That was shit we did back in the day.”
“So why not continue that tradition?”
I cross my arms over my chest, racking my mind for any kind of plausible excuse.
“I think it’d be good for the teams to bond.” His eyes bounce between mine. “And good for us.”
I roll my eyes. “We don’t need to bond.”
He reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. “If you say no, you’ll have to be the one to explain that to my mother.”
The corner of my lips twitch. Mrs. Fletcher was kind to me in high school. She’s a sweet woman, and I much prefer her to her son.
I arch a brow. “Still a momma’s boy.”
He hikes a shoulder, not bothering to deny it. “I’m sorry about your dad, by the way.”
Acid trickles into my stomach. “Thanks.”
His eyes hold mine, those damn things always managing to see everything I try so hard to conceal underneath my hardened exterior.
He knows my father was my best friend. Losing him was the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and I don’t talk about him much with anyone because of that exact reason.
Tears sting my eyes, and emotion clogs my throat. I blink and jingle my car keys in my hand. “It’s not a bad idea. Pre-game dinners were always fun.”
It was a way for us to unwind and have some fun the night before a game when we were driving ourselves crazy with nerves.
“Does six o’clock work for you?”
I nod and let out a defeated sigh. “Ask your mom what I should bring.”
I’d rather not spend more time with Landon, but I won’t spite the team because of it.
“Look at you, breaking bread with the enemy.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m only doing it for the team.”
And because Landon’s mom asked. She might have spawned the devil, but I can’t be rude to her.
“Pre-game dinners were the best.” Ivori leans back against my porch swing, staring out at the night sky. “High school was the best. No responsibilities. No back pain. Not a care in the world.”
I chuckle as I mimic her position and gaze out at the moon peeking through the leaves on the tall oak tree in the yard.
It remained tall and strong throughout the years, weathering every snow storm and hurricane that came its way.
Branches have broken off; its leaves have died, season after season. But it withstands each of its changes.
I feel a lot like the oak tree.
“I look at these kids and wonder if they know it. People say it all the time, but you don’t really understand until you’re an adult, reminiscing about the glory days.”
“I don’t think you can know it while you’re in it.” Ivori lifts her wine glass to her lips. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”
My foot pushes off the porch to rock the swing. “I don’t even know what they’re talking about half the time. They say these...these weird things, and I haven’t a single clue what they’re talking about. It’s like they’re speaking in tongues.”
Ivori squeezes her eyes shut as she laughs. “Our parents felt like this when we were younger, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know, dude. Did we say such weird shit?”
“What I do know is that these kids are brazen as fuck.”
I sit up straight, my wine almost sloshing over the side of my glass. “Thank you! Right? Like who would ever speak to their teachers like that? My dad would’ve beat my ass.”
“Same.” She twists her body to face me. “I couldn’t even tell my sister to shut up, let alone my teacher.”
I drain the rest of my wine and set the empty glass on the wicker table. “I wonder how the boys today would react if a girl joined the lacrosse team. Do you think they’d treat her differently than they treated me?”
“Probably. Boys are more feminist now than they were back in our day.”
A laugh bubbles out of my throat. “Back in our day. God, we sound like we’re ancient.”
“We’re officially in our late thirties.” Ivori shivers. “Evan is pushing forty.”
I lift my phone off the couch and type out a quick text to him.
Me
You’re old
Evan
Go fuck yourself
My head falls back as I cackle, and turn the phone so Ivori can read his text.
She grins as she reaches forward and pours herself another glass. “Want another?”
I shake my head. “I’m the perfect amount of buzzed.”
Warmth coats my veins, and the noise in my head quiets a bit.
“So, how are you really doing?” she asks. “You’ve got a lot on your plate figuring out what to do with your house on top of an already stressful school year. You’re under a lot of pressure coming off a championship win last season, and now Landon is back in town. I just want to check in on you.”
“I’m fine.”
She drops her chin and gives me a look that says bullshit.
My shoulders drop. “Look, am I stressed? Of course. This shit with my dad’s house is overwhelming.
And I needed Landon to come back into my life like I needed another hole in the head.
But it is what it is. I can’t control any of it, and I just have to roll with the punches.
” I shrug. “No use complaining about it.”
“It’s not complaining.” Ivori’s eyes widen. “It’s called venting. Getting it off your chest instead of holding it all inside.”
I suck my teeth. “That’s what the gym is for.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “I think you should keep the house.”
“You’ve only told me ten times.”
“I think you could do it. Put the money into it for repairs. You can do some extra tutoring, or sell feet pics on the internet like everyone else seems to be doing.”
My chin jerks back. “Who’s everyone?”
“I don’t know anyone, but I see a lot of posts about it on social media.”
I rub my temples. “I really don’t want to see what your feed looks like.”
Ivori shoots me a wink. “Or do you?”
I laugh. “I would love to keep this house, but it’s a lot and I don’t know the first thing about repairs.”
My father paid off this house before he passed, and left it to me. At eighteen, I was in no position to sell it, nor did I want to let go of it. But I’m in my thirties now. Should I still be holding onto this house?
“Come on, we can totally go Joanna Gaines mode on this place.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. I’m definitely no Joanna Gaines. I can hammer a nail into a wall to hang a picture, but that’s about it. “I’d have to hire someone to help me. Evan said he’d help in any way he can, but I’m not sure what he’ll be capable of doing.”
Her eyebrow arches. “That man is not as handy as he thinks he is.”
“I don’t know. I think it’d be silly to keep this big house when it’s just me.”
“It won’t be just you forever.”
“You don’t know that.”
Mr. and Mrs. Stevens drive by in their dilapidated Buick, and we lift our hands to wave to each other. Black smoke billows out the back of the exhaust pipe, and I shake my head. “Dude, I can’t believe that car is still going.”
“I can’t believe they’re still going.”
I jab Ivori in her ribs with my elbow. “That’s terrible. They’re such a sweet couple.”
“I wonder if I’ll be that nice when I’m older.”
I snort. “I think you have to start out as a sweet person to end up as one.”
She scoffs. “Gee, thanks.”
“You’ll be more like Dr. Ruth, teaching your grandkids and all their friends about practicing safe sex, and showing them how to roll a condom over a banana.”
She tosses her head back as she laughs. “I wonder if Dr. Ruth is still alive.”
“She probably is. A healthy sex life keeps you young.” I shift in my seat to face her. “You know, I read an article the other day that said women live longer when they’re single.”
“So, you’re happy because you’ve got science backing you up now?”
I give her a triumphant nod. “Yup. Being in a relationship literally takes years off your life. It’s an actual scientific fact. But society keeps pushing us to be monogamous.”
Ivori leans back, and kicks off the porch to swing us again. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not choosing this alternative lifestyle because you’re all smash the patriarchy. You’re no Samantha Jones.” She pats my knee. “You might be a Miranda in a lot of ways, but you’re a Carrie at heart.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Carrie wanted the fairy tale. She wanted to be swept off her feet by a rich asshole who treated her like shit. How am I anything like that?”
“You’ve been lying to yourself for quite some time. I don’t think you even know who you are at this point in your life.”
My mouth drops open. “Shit. Tell me how you really feel. Where is all this coming from?”
“It’s coming from your concerned best friend who has had to watch you build a great life, and tell yourself that it’s enough. But I know you, and I know it’s not enough. I just hope it’s not too late once you realize it.”
Her analysis stings. A best friend is like a mirror, and I can’t hide behind a facade when it comes to Ivori. She forces me to face my truth, no matter how ugly it might be.
I lift my chin. “What if my life is enough for me? What if it’s you who has the problem with it?”
“This isn’t the life you wanted.” She tosses it out so matter-of-factly. “Part of that reason has to do with someone whose name I’m not allowed to say, and the other part of it has to do with your parents passing, and I know you don’t like to talk about that either, but maybe it’s time you do.”
I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, mental and physical exhaustion setting in. “Girl, you were supposed to come over and make me laugh.”
“What am I, a fucking clown?” Ivori tosses a piece of popcorn at me from the bowl in her lap. “I’m your best friend, I gotta check in.”
“I appreciate you. But now you need to leave so I can wash up for bed and watch Schitt’s Creek with my face mask on.”
“How many times have you watched that show?”
“It’s my emotional support TV show that helps me fall asleep.” I flip her off. “And it’s better than scrolling through feet pics.”
“I can’t help it if the algorithm sends me these weird videos!”
“You’re right, it’s the algorithm.”
A disgusted noise leaves the back of her throat as she stands with her wine and popcorn in each hand. “I don’t like your tone.”
I grin. “Love you, bitch.”
“Love you back, hoe.” Ivori lowers her voice. “I just want you to be happy with the decision you make, that’s all. I’d hate to see you sell this house if you truly want to keep it.”
The truth is, I don’t know what I want. Selling it makes me sad, but holding onto it means I’d have to spend a lot in repairs. I could spend my money on my own house, something much smaller than this, and let this part of my past go. I’ll have the memories regardless.
I have to make a decision, either way.
And I need to make it soon.