Page 27 of Wildcat
When we’re done, I walk with him back to his office. The cyclone that’s still his desk makes me laugh. “When does Anna come back?”
“I don’t know.” He runs a hand over his hair. “Her mom is sick.”
“Can you get a temp or someone to cover until she returns?”
“I could, but Anna knows how I like things. By the time I train someone new, she’ll be back. You know how crazy the beginning of the season is. I don’t really have the bandwidth.”
“What if I helped?” I stop. “Wait, assistants don’t have to interact with the players, right?”
“Not often.” He smiles. “I’d love to have you here every day with me, but are you sure? What about your classes?”
“About that…” Big gulp. “When I was in London, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to do and what makes me happy. I don’t think that is getting a college degree. At least not right now.” Before that furrowed brow of his can formulate a question or disappointed remark, I add, “So I dropped all my classes and I’m going to try to make a go of it with my photography. I know it isn’t what you or Mom wanted for me, but it feels right.”
He makes a noise deep in his throat.
I charge on. “I’m already so far behind from taking a year off and I don’t need the degree. There are lots of workshops and classes I can take, and I’ve been working on finding something with more hours than the bar so working here with you is sort of perfect.”
One of the things I love about Dad is that he can just be. He doesn’t need to fill the quiet. That might have something to do with being married to my mother who talks incessantly. Opposites attract, I guess. But right now, as he nods slowly, seconds feel like an eternity. That thing I said I love about my dad being comfortable in silence becomes his worst trait. Mom would have already said something. I don’t know what, but something. I’d know what’s going through her head immediately instead of being in my current hell.
“Okay.”
Wait, what? “Okay? Really?”
“You don’t need to convince me that photography is the right path for you.”
“I don’t?” A small, nervous laugh escapes.
“No, sweetheart. You’re an adult and your decisions are your own. I don’t know how it happened. I blinked and you grew up.”
All the air and nerves I’ve been carrying since I returned leave my body on a giant exhale.
“Thank you.”
“Your mother, on the other hand,” he says as he sits behind his desk.
“Any chance we can just keep her in the dark?”
He doesn’t respond, so I guess that’s a no.
One parent down. Dad took it so well, but I am not expecting that from my mother.
“You really want to work here around a bunch of rowdy athletes?” he asks. The look he gives me, full of pity and understanding, makes me positive I need to, if only to prove that I can. Maybe I need to prove it to myself, too. I can work here, around athletes and Leo, and be fine. Rhyse broke my heart, but he didn’t break me.
“I think it would be good for me. Less time to sit around and sulk. And maybe I can pick Lindsey’s brain a little when I’m not busy.” I want to know everything about how she got to where she is.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” Another coach steps in the doorway, and Dad greets him. “This is my daughter, Scarlett. She’s going to be helping out while Anna is gone.”
He steps forward and extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, Scarlett.”
“You too.”
He looks to Dad. “Are you ready to do the film analysis?”
“Yeah, let me get Scarlett settled and I’ll come down to your office in two.”
He taps the jamb of the door and nods. “Great. Welcome, Scarlett.”
Dad glances around the office and works his jaw side to side. “I’m not sure where to have you start. Anna’s office is next door, but I’ve moved everything I need in here.”
