Page 13 of Big Rucking Disaster

“Oh, I have a woman living in the basement. Please don’t stomp or be too loud.”

“You rent out the basement?” I shucked my shoes.

“Mortgage helper.” He paused. “Although I don’t have a mortgage. With the housing crunch in this city, I didn’t want to leave a perfectly good suite empty. She’s a PhD student at UBC. Keeps to herself and is almost never around. I put the rent money aside for a rainy day.” He gazed upward. “I’m likely to need a new roof within the next five years.”

“Something I don’t have to worry about. Do you need help to take your shoes off?”

“I can take off my own shoes, for fuck’s sake.” Yet, when he tried to bend, he swayed.

“Okay, Coach, let’s get you seated. Dining table or couch?” From where we stood, at the back of the house in the kitchen, I spotted the table as well as a very comfortable-looking sectional. “That looks comfy.” I gestured with my chin.

“Dirty shoes.” He might’ve whined that.

“I’ll mop your floor.” I eyed his shoes. They sure didn’t look dirty to me. Not like my cleats looked like after a game or practice when the rain poured down and the mud was everywhere.

“You’re very argumentative.”

I snickered. “Have you listened to yourself lately?” I snagged his messenger bag and placed it gently on the floor. “There for tomorrow. Now—couch, dining table, or bed?”

His eyes went wide. “I didn’t say anything about—”

“Nope. But if you’re dizzy, then lying down might be a good idea. I’m still not convinced I shouldn’t be running you to an after-hours walk-in clinic—”

“I probably would’ve gotten the headache even if the ball hadn’t hit me. The weather.” He vaguely pointed out the lovely, large window over the sink. It faced the amazing backyard. Not huge in size, but lush in greenery. I spotted flower plants everywhere.It’ll be amazing when they all bloom. And he appeared to have a vegetable garden in the back corner. I’d oriented myself, and his backyard faced west and got direct sunlight for most of the day. Perfect for growing.

All of which my mother had taught me before she died.

My uncle, who then took over as my guardian, hadn’t had time forgirly shit like that. To his credit, he’d gotten me interested in rugby. I’d thank the old bastard—if he hadn’t died years ago.

I was alone in the world.

You have Carly. You have your teammates. You’re not alone, for fuck’s sake.

“Couch. Jesus, I’m just tired.”

“We’ll get you fed and into bed. Are the bedrooms on this floor?”

“Yes, two on this floor as well as two in the attic.”

“Nice. Four-bedroom houses are lovely.” I didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about, but he was letting me guide him to the couch.

I got him plopped onto his butt, and I set about removing his shoes. Actually… “Travis and Isaiah? The couple I told you about? They bought a house in East Van. Up near Sunrise and Hastings. Isaiah’s got a massive family back in New Zealand.”

I grinned as I got both shoes removed. I headed back to the kitchen. “And his grandmother—who apparently is not to be argued with—has decided various of his nieces and nephews need to come to Canada for various reasons. Mostly schooling,but apparently one kid’s, like, a hellion. They figure Uncle Travis will set him straight.” I washed my hands, then grabbed two plates from the cupboard. “Travis was in an accident and has a scar down his face and a bunch of tattoos. He comes off as a badass. The truth? He’s a softie. If the kids need discipline, Isaiah will take care of that.” I plated the subs, then set about getting glasses of ice. “You want lemonade or iced tea? I wasn’t certain which you’d want. Unless you have—”

“Lemonade sounds good.”

Score. I love iced tea.I’d have drunk the lemonade, of course. “Right. One second.” I found a couple of glasses and poured the drinks. “So, I think even if Isaiah’s grandmother wasn’t sending half of New Zealand, my friends would be looking to foster or even adopt. They’re…” I sighed. “You know how some people are meant to be parents? That’s them. Although Travis will argue about that continuously. He’s getting better, though. Being around Roger’s kids has really softened him.

I made my way into the living room with Coach’s food and drink.

He had a weird look on his face.

“You okay?”

“Sure. Uh, thanks for the food.” He held out his hands.

He’s anything but fine. He looks…stricken.I replayed the last few minutes.Oh God, does he have kids? Did he lose them in a custody dispute?

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