“Speaking of jobs, you never told me what happened with James yesterday,” Dean says, and I smirk as I sip my coffee.
Man, was that only yesterday? It feels like I’ve lived a thousand lives then.
“Forgive me if I was a little…distracted, babe,” I say in a faux-innocent tone, letting my eyes do the talking and reminding Dean exactly why I’ve been so distracted for the last sixteen hours. His grey irises go dark as they drop to my lips and I can hear a low rumble working in his throat. He opens his mouth, then quickly closes it, likely remembering that there are little ears around that should not hear whatever filthy things he was about to say.
“Stop distractingmeand tell me what happened.”
“He wants me to come coach,” I say with a shrug of my shoulder, as if it’s no big deal. Dean’s jaw drops, and then his face twists up into the biggest smile.
“Luke, that’s amazing! Holy shhh…ugar! What position?”
“Quarterback coach. They’re planning on bringing Breaker Lawson up as a full-time starter this season and they want me working one-on-one with him again. He’s got a few seasons under his belt but he’s still pretty green. Adler and Mancini think that the Redwoods could go all the way this year, and they want me to help.” I go into more detail, recounting everything James said to me yesterday about salary, travel expectations, and how they’d like to eventually move me up the ranks to offensive coordinator.
“Luke, that’s incredible. You’re going to take it, right?”
I run a hand over my jaw, mulling everything over. I really haven’t had much time to think about the offer. Once Dean and I crawled into bed last night, the rest of the world sort of…faded away.
“I don’t know. It would be a lot of work. Long practices, working weekends. Travel during the season. I don’t know how I’d handle all of that on my own with three kids.”
Dean doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and when I glance over at him, he’s looking at me like I’ve just claimed the Earth to be flat and the moon landing an illuminati hoax.
“What?”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re thinking like a single parent, but you’re not all alone. We’re partners, I’ll be here to help carry the load, no matter what you decide to do with your life. If that means you join the Redwoods as a coach, then I’ll be on the sidelines with your three littlest fans in tow every week.”
“That’s a lot for me to ask of you.”
“No it’s not, Luke. You’re my husband. You’re my family, and this is what families do for each other.”
Something in my chest warms at the sentiment, because it’s the same thing Gigi always used to say to me. Whenever I was feeling guilty about her being dragged along to away games or having to be awake before dawn to take me to practice and camps, she’d remind me that she was my family, and that this is what families do for each other. Still, I hesitate.
“The network gig has a lot more flexibility…” I say, and even I can hear how weak that argument sounds. Sure, podcasting has been a fun thing to do for the last few months, but it’s not really a job. I get to talk about football, but it’s not challenging or stimulating. I don’t need it, it doesn’t excite me. And the thought of putting on a suit and tie and standing in front of the camera every Sunday doesn’t exactly sit right with me.
“Look,” Dean says, placing a hand on my kneeand rubbing small arches with his thumb. “If you want to stick with the network forever, that’s fine. If you want to coach, that’s great. If you want to move to the Central Valley and start a cattle ranch…well we might have to have a bigger discussion about that one because while I love the idea of you in chaps, I don’t know that farm life is for me. San Luis Obispo might be a better fit if that’s the case, because at least the ocean is nearby.”
I let out a breathy half-laugh, and he squeezes my knee.
“But what about the kids? If I do this, I’ll have to travel, like, every other week during the season. Lemmie and Mellie are starting kindergarten this fall. Me being in Dallas or Philadelphia or Boston twice a month isn’t going to make our lives any easier.”
“You’re forgetting about your village again, corazón. Lem and Mel are starting kindergarten with Cami and all their other friends in August, which means that if you have to travel and we can’t come along, I’ll have my sister and Warren next door on the same schedule. My dads and Tía Camila visit at least once a month. And not for nothing, I’m pretty damn good at wrangling these kids by myself. I think I’ve proven that by now. And besides, I was basically born to be a stay at home dad. I’m a total DILF,” Dean smiles, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to myshoulder before continuing. “My point is, Luke, no matter what you decide to do, I’m in it with you. So, excuses aside, tell me how you really feel about this coaching position.”
I ponder that for a moment, sitting back and letting myself picture what it would be like. To work with a team, to have my professional life revolve around the sport I gave my heart and soul to, to wear Redwoods red and gold and be a part of the team again. I think…I think it would be really fucking good for me.
“I want to take it. I want to join the Redwoods coaching staff,” I say softly, and Dean punches his hand holding his coffee-milkshake monstrosity into the air, causing droplets of the sticky brown liquid to rain down over us.
“Fuck yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” he yells, and the twins turn and scowl in unison. “I know, I know, I have to put money in your swear jar. But guess what, mis pollitas? Uncle Lukey is going to be a football coach!”
“We know, Dean,” Lemmie says, drawing out Dean’s name while placing a paint-splattered hand on her hip.
“We went to Uncle Lukey’s job place yesterday,” Mellie says, rolling her eyes. Ollie babbles below us, and Dean scoops her up and sets her on his lap.
“Ollie, is that true? Everyone knew about Uncle Lukey’s job before me?” he lowers his ear to Ollie’s mouth to hear her “answer”, but Ollie just giggles and grabs two fistfuls of Dean’s hair. “Ugh, so rude, I know. We need to work on teaching him some manners.”
I tickle the bottom of Ollie’s foot and she giggles even harder, kicking her feet and cheeping.
“I haven’t taken the job yet, chickadees. If I do, it means I’d have to travel with the team when they have away games, just like when I used to play, remember?” I ask. It wasn’t often, but Gigi brought the girls to a few away games back in the day, though I think they were too young to notice.
“Will we get to travel with you?” Lemmie asks.