Page 48 of Summer Affair
Hell no, he didn’t want to talk about his knee or football, and he certainly didn’t want to talk about his feelings on the matter. Only, she sat down on the front porch step and left him standing—using some of that mom reverse psychology that his own mother had used on him and his brothers growing up. Then she patted the step next to her. With a grin he sat close enough that their thighs were brushing.
“Not really,” he said. “But I don’t think you’ll let me off that easy.”
“You can just tell me it’s too personal and you’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay, it’s too personal and I’d rather not talk about it,” he said, and to his amazement, she didn’t push. Unlike his family, his coach, his teammates, or every Seahawks fan he ran into, she respected his right to be silent.
“Then maybe we can talk about today. Thank you for picking up Sammy.”
Normally he would have accepted the thanks and then stayed silent, but Jillian had this deep understanding of things; she’d make a perfect sounding board.
He sent her a sidelong glance. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to be ready in time and what that means for my career.”
“I think you’re an incredibly dedicated and strong man but you’re not invincible. Some injuries take longer to heal than others.” He knew she was talking more emotional than physical.
“Football’s been my life and my endgame. Without that, I don’t know who I am.”
“I get that. When Dirk told me he wanted out, I had no idea who I was without being a wife. I never imagined I’d be a single mom, living in my grandma’s cottage, and watching YouTube videos on how to remove a frog from a toilet.” She looked at him. “If Sammy asks you how to get a frog back to sea, tell him frogs don’t live in the ocean. It would save me about a thousand dollars.”
He laughed. “Noted.”
“Thank you again for doing this,” she said. “Sammy couldn’t stop talking about it all weekend long.”
“I have to admit, I’m pretty excited too.” He was looking forward to a day of fun with some local kids. He’d done charity games and spoken to high school players about the drive it takes to go all the way, but those were one-offs. No more than a couple hours out of his day. He’d never worked with kids for an extended period of time and, truth be told, he was pretty pumped.
“You’re going to make those kids’ entire summer. And Clay,” she said quietly, “this can end however you want.”
He knew she was talking about his career, but he realized it applied to more than just football.
“I always knew you were a glass half full kind of girl.” Before his injury, he had been too, and he wanted to get back to that guy.
She lifted a slim shoulder. “I just believe in you.”
By the time Jillian showed up at the sports park, she was ten minutes late. One of her cakes needed a smidge bit longer and Heather had texted to remind her she’d volunteered to be snack mom for the day and could she bring enough for both Tiny Tike teams. Without enough football-shaped cookies to go around, Jillian had to stop by the store to get cheese sticks, juice boxes, and granola bars for fifty—her first snack day costing her a grand total of thirty-nine minutes and a hundred dollars.
She was more concerned about the time. She had a feeling Clay might have underestimated just how challenging it was to corral twenty-five tiny tikes. The first hour would have been great, the kids would be excited to have a real-life hero as their coach. By hour two she imagined the rabblerousers would get restless.
Glancing at the roster each parent received, she knew Clay had at least a couple of rabblerousers and one vanisher on his team. So while Jillian might not know football, she’d done her ten thousand hours of kid-herding.
Only when she arrived, she was impressed to find the kids on a knee, while Clay talked about sportsmanship and team unity. He had their full attention, was looking each kid square in the eyes when he spoke and took the time to really listen to what they were saying.
She knew he was good with kids, she just never imagined he’d be great with them. He admitted he had little experience with younger children, yet he was managing them like a pro. But it was the respectful tone he used with them that really pulled her heartstrings.
Even though Dirk put work above family, when they’d been married Jillian never had to worry about Sammy getting in his “guy-time.” Now that her son had turned seven, she was beginning to worry about the absence of strong male role models in his life. Which was one of the reasons she’d was so grateful for Clay’s offer to begin with. She couldn’t think of a better man for her son to look up to.
“It’s important to remember, whether I put you on the green team or the gold team, this is practice. But on game day you’re one unified team,” he said.
Riley, one of the kids who’d always given Sammy a hard time for being small, asked, “Are we keeping the same positions as last summer?”
“We’re going to try different people in different positions,” Clay said. “If you want to be a good player, you need to know what it’s like to be in your teammates’ shoes. It also helps you to better understand the game. This way everyone gets fair playing time.”
There were a few groans from the older kids, but none of them said a word.
“How are we going to win if we’re playing the new kids,” Riley’s dad said from the bleachers. Jillian was interested to see how Clay would handle the situation.
The kids weren’t the problem on this kind of team, it was the parents. People like Heather and Riley’s dad chased off coaches who would rather not deal with the drama. One time, they actually chased the coach’s car out of the parking lot. She knew Clay wasn’t a quitter, but how he handled this would set the tone for the summer.
“We’re going to win by building a well-rounded team,” Clay said. “These camps are about learning, and every athlete deserves the same chance to excel.” Heather started to speak but Clay held up a hand. “I’d be happy to answer any questions after practice, but right now is about football, so I’d like to get back to the team.”
