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“How’s your Allyson handling that? How’re you doing with it?” She’s looking at the sky so hard she could probably count the stars, but I feel like her real attention is all on me.
How does she even know Allyson’s name? I sure as shit didn’t tell her. It’s then I remember Bobby’s dinner ‘oops’. That boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut even with duct tape. I’m guessing he’s the one who told her Allyson is my co-coach too.
“First off, she ain’t my Allyson, not my anything,” I spit out with more venom than I intend. “And we’re doing just fine.”
Even I don’t believe that, not after yesterday.
Practice went so well, or mostly so, other than the hiccup with the tackle, and even afterward, we’d flirted and talked like . . . old friends. It’d been comfortable. I liked her giving me shit, loved her body so close to mine that I could smell the blend of her floral perfume and sweet sweat. And then that’d all gone to hell in a handbasket again.
Cheat on her? Goddamn, that girl had me spun around her finger so tight I didn’t know my ass from my elbow. I never would’ve cheated on her. I was doing everything I could to be worthy of her.
I realize too late that I’ve been silent too long. Mama Louise can see right through me or maybe even hear my thoughts with how loudly I’m thinking them.
“You can talk to me, you know?” she says quietly and then waits.
Maybe she’s magic, maybe this tea is stronger than I think, or maybe I just needed this right now, but I do talk to her. Like a cork popped off the champagne bottle of my emotions, I spill everything.
I tell her about Allyson and me in high school and all our plans and dreams. I tell her about how much I loved her and wanted to do right by her. I explain that there was some misunderstanding, but we were too stubborn and stupid to just talk it through. I tell her about going to see Al at school and seeing her with that fucking khakis guy who married her and gave her the baby I always wanted to have with her. And finally, I tell her that I think something went wrong with Allyson’s marriage, that she’d said she’d had to save herself.
I dump it all out, purging the poison from my soul. Mama Louise sits there, sipping her tea and listening. Even as I rage and admit that I want to find this fuckwit, Jeremy, and peel him open with my bare hands for hurting Allyson.
Through the whole thing, Mama Louise doesn’t say one word, not even about my coarse language or desire for violence. She just lets me vent.
Finally, I sag, empty of words and full of confusion and anger. “Feel better?” she inquires like I didn’t just spill my guts to her for the first time ever.
I’m not upset at her calm reaction, though. In fact, I think I prefer it. If she started spouting off advice or asking more questions, I’d probably bail and head home. But it seems this wasn’t about my giving her information. Instead, she knew I needed to get everything out and gave me a safe space to do it.
I nod. “What the hell did you put in this tea? Truth serum?” Even as I question it, I take one more gulp of the sweet, delicious liquid, finishing my glass.
“A mother never tells all her secrets,” she says innocently, taking a tiny sip of her own drink. “So, what are you going to do now?”
I shrug sullenly.
“Okay, so maybe you don’t have to know what you want to do about the whole Allyson situation just yet. Let that simmer like chili and figure it out slowly. You two have time enough, and I suspect you don’t know your own heart just yet, so don’t be mucking around with hers. But what about the boys?” I can feel the carefulness with which she asks. This is a defining moment.
“I want to coach them, but why am I even doing this? They’re not my kids, not my responsibility. I could just walk away. It would be so easy . . . to just walk away.” My voice trails off as I imagine the Wildcats having practice without me. It leaves a hollow, gnawing hole in my gut that feels like shit.
How did this happen?
Just a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know these kids, but now, I feel an obligation to them. I need to see them play, to see them grow, both on the field and off. I pulled up on a fighting group of kids who insulted and hurt each other. Now, they’re a team that looks out for each other, celebrates each other, and supports one another.
