Page 139 of Comeback
He looks up, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
“Come in.” He stands and waves me in. “Shut the door behind you.”
My fingers tremble with nervous energy as I do as instructed and then take a seat in front of his desk.
He sits back in his chair, elbows propped on the arms. “I guess I’ll just cut to the chase since I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to stop by.”
He gives me a wobbly smile that I do my best to return. I rake my sweaty palms down my thighs.
“We are making some changes, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
I haven’t cried since my mom died but damn if emotion doesn’t clog my throat and burn the backs of my eyes.
“I’ve always respected you, Holland. You show up every day, you work hard, and you don’t complain. And you probably have more of a right to than anyone else. We’ve made some tweaks to accommodate you, but I’m aware it’s not always enough.”
“It’s not a problem,” I say in a rush. “I mean, I don’t need you to make accommodations or treat me any differently.”
Even as I speak the words, I know they aren’t exactly true. I’ve never let my hearing be an obstacle in pursuing the things I want, but there are things that just aren’t as easy for me. I’ve done my best to not be an imposition. I’m always watching,always aware, always trying to make up for not being able to hear the coaches or the quarterback.
His brows pinch together, and he removes his glasses. “What is it you think is happening here, son?”
“I assume you’re trading me,” I say as he stares back at me. Or cutting me. Fuck. Is he going to buy out my contract and cut me loose?
He lets out a laugh that shakes his entire body. “No.”
“No?” I study his face for any hint of what he’s thinking. I hold off on feeling relieved because maybe there’s something else I haven’t considered that will suck only slightly less than being cut.
“We’ve hired an interpreter,” he says.
Silence hangs around us as I process. Only I’m not making sense of any of it.
“For what?”
“For you.” He laughs again.
“Oh,” I say dumbly. Ooooh. I sit forward. “That really isn’t necessary. You and the other coaches have been great, and Cody and I have worked out a system. I’m good.”
I don’t want to make a big deal out of needing special treatment. I’ve always hated that. And I don’t need it. I’ve figured out how to exist in this sport and on this team without a lot of hassle or fuss. And beyond that, I have Brogan who I know is always looking out for me. That’s enough for me.
He holds up a hand to silence any further objections. “We should have done it the moment we signed you. I’m sorry for that.”
I open my mouth to speak, but I’m not sure what to say.
“His name is Max and he will work around your schedule, attend your meetings and practices, and be on the sideline at every game for you. Basically, if you’re working, then so is he.”
My worry has turned into an unsettling feeling at the team going to such lengths for me. “I appreciate all this. Really, I do, but I don’t want?—”
He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Beyond it just being the right thing to do here, we all want to give you the best chance for success because that is only going to make our team stronger. You are a hell of a player already. Let us make it easier for you to focus on all your talent and hard work. When you’re working, I want you to only think about football. Nothing else. My hope is that this will allow you to do that.”
I’m officially out of protests and a whole lot dumbstruck. This is the last thing I was expecting. I manage to find my voice.
“Thank you, Coach.”
He nods and stands, so I do the same.
“Wearegoing to be making some changes to the receivers. I guess it won’t be secret for long, so I can tell you we made a trade with Washington. We’re moving Graham for Hunter.”
Lonnie Hunter is one of the best cornerbacks in the league. I fucking hate going up against him, so I’m grateful for him being on my side alone. But Graham gone?
