Page 14 of Love on the Sidelines

"Oh really? Like what?"

I groan inwardly. I shouldn't be having this conversation right now. "How about we table this for later? I need to get ready for the game."

Charlie nods, standing. "Of course. Good luck."

Why am I oddly irritated at his tone? It’s been less than a week since the stitches incident, but he's getting under my skin, and not in a good way. It’s like he’s gone from this guy I can argue with to a golden retriever.

8

CHARLIE

Ithink my days spent watching Emily's games are the most I've spent off my phone in at least three years.

And I don't hate it. Sure, there are some withdrawals that come with stuff like that, but it was nice to be outside, to support my niece. And she didn't seem to hate it either.

"You played great today," I say in the car on the drive home.

"Thanks for coming," she says. Her tone isn't bright and bubbly, like she used to be when she was younger. That could be the grief or the teenager talking.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" I ask, trying to think of some restaurants on the drive back. I'm tired, not from my own running around and playing, but more emotionally drained from the ups and downs of the games this weekend.

"Let's just get something and take it back to the house." She stares out the window, and I'm searching my brain for how to connect with her.

"Did you like playing with your team?"

Emily looks over at me and says, "I miss Michigan."

It's not said spitefully, but more of a contemplative announcement.

Nodding, I say, "I know, Em. I'm sorry we had to move you here. Grandma isn't as young as she used to be and if you're here, I can watch out for and take care of both of you."

Emily gives me a disbelieving stare and says, "I don't think you can care for yourself, let alone the two of us."

I frown, trying to follow her line of thinking. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen your clothes on the floor and the fact that you can't cook. Are you sure you didn't bring us down here to take care of you?" There's a ghost of a smile there on her lips and I can't help but laugh at her logic.

"You might be right, although I hired a maid to help me keep the house clean. I don't expect you to do that."

"What do you think of your coach?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I like that she does stuff with us and doesn't just punish us for the littlest things. I don't know how much we'll win, though. If we had Jenn, Stacy, and Danielle from my old team, I think we'd have a chance."

I try to hide my smile at her confession. Ava is like a unicorn when it comes to coaching a sport. Usually the coaches are overweight and more than willing to bark orders and command the kids to run for miles on end. I’ve got enough experience to know that.

"That’s cool. Too bad there isn't someone like that who knows stuff about hockey." The general manager I'd hired has been going through a few options for a head coach, but none of them have been appealing to me. Not that I have the decision on that. I'm the money and I have to trust that Steve will decide for the club what can help us be a successful franchise.

"You know a lot about hockey," Emily says, her interest piqued suddenly.

Laughing, I say, "I know a lot from the player's perspective, but I don't think I could be a coach."

Emily sits quietly, as if her brain is far away. “My mom would've been a great lacrosse coach.”

"She never played."

"She was good at studying things she didn't know."

That's the truth. My sister had always been curious, and when she gave her word on something, she somehow went above and beyond.

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