Page 37 of (La)Crosse My Heart

"No, they’ll have a couple of people who come and do it. I think we can just play a few games and make it fun for the kids. I wish we had something the guys could sign for the kids."

Nodding, I try to think of something that would work. If they haven't had a camera person for their club, which makes it feel like this club is still in the nineteenth century, then they probably don't have some great action shots to create cards with.

But I took pictures at practice.

My photo editing skills are even more rusty than using a camera, so it might not be a good idea to try anything fancy.

"I'll see what I can do," I say.

"Thanks for all you do. We're already making progress in the few days since you've been here."

I laugh. "I don't think I've done much of anything yet."

To be honest, I'm a little let down by my progress so far. The athletes I'd worked with in the past had been easier than Clark, although not as interesting.

Maybe it's the oldest daughter people pleasing in me taking over with those thoughts, but I'm hoping to get rid of some of that now that I'm not living at home.

I plug the camera into my older laptop and start scrolling through the pictures I took the other day at practice. Maybe there's something I can do with these.

It’s going to take a miracle.

17

Clark

"Okay, team. We need to be all in today, all right?" I say. Each of my teammates is in a circle around me, and I feel like we're getting ready to head out onto the field for the first game of the season. That's not for another week, though.

"How hard can it be?" Jackson asks.

I laugh, knowing if the sun doesn't kill our energy, the kids will have drained it right from our souls. That tidbit comes from several summers of experience back home. I smile as I think of Jessa telling me I’m good with kids. Something about that makes me turn to look for her.

“Hard,” Burton says, tossing a ball into the air and catching it in the pocket of his stick.

"Stay hydrated and if the drill doesn't work, improvise,” I say. “Tweak it so the kids catch on or play a game."

We're sitting in the shade, and I watch as the line of kids and their parents winds around the cinderblock building in the middle of the baseball complex. This is the largest park closestto downtown Salt Lake, with the baseball fields and a grassy area that can hold at least four or five full-length lacrosse fields.

That's a lot of kids, even for the number of guys on our team.

We're going to have to get creative.

I glance around and am surprised Jessa isn't here yet. I figured she'd be the first one to the fields. But then again, I don't know how much of her job is just babysitting me or if she has to do other things as well.

I pull out my phone to call her.

"Hey, Clark. What's up?"

"Are you planning to come to the field today?" I ask, trying to figure out the easiest way to ask that. I don’t want to be super needy, but what I want to ask her makes it sound that way.

"Yeah, I just have to swing by the printer and then I'll be there."

"Would you be able to go to my house and grab the water guns in the garage?"

There's a long pause and then she says, "Yeah. I guess. What are you going to do for water?"

Good question. "There's a big bucket for our random sports crap. Just dump it out and bring that. There's a hose here we can fill it up with."

"Anything else?" She sounds like she's taking our lunch order.

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