I chuckle. “Well, let me make things crystal clear for you: You and I are equals. I want you to feel comfortable and confident in coaching these kids.”
Quinn turns around to face me, her eyes softening. “I appreciate that.”
“Your sister mentioned you’ve been going through a bit of a hard time.”
She nods, dropping her gaze to the grass. “Yeah.”
Sloane told me that her sister has been in an unhappy marriage for the last several years, and is working up the courage to ask for a divorce. She didn’t go into detail, but I got the impression that Quinn’s husband is a bit controlling.
“If you ever need anything, anything at all, please know I’m here.” I cup her shoulder. “My parents got divorced, and it was difficult for my mom in the beginning.”
“Thanks, Landon.” Quinn covers my hand with her own. “Same goes for you. I know coming back to town hasn’t been easy.” She shrugs. “Sloane talks to me too.”
I roll my lips between my teeth. “Yeah,” is all I can say around the lump growing in my throat.
After we finish cleaning up the equipment, I glance back at Ainsley as I make my way toward the parking lot.
She’s stuck talking to one of the moms.
I could go over and help her, but I won’t.
Instead, I smile and wave as I walk by.
Payback’s a bitch, Morgan.
“Hey, baby! How was your day?”
“It was good.” I smile as I stride through the doorway. Mom’s bustling around the room, from the stove to the fridge, and back to the stove again. Her cheeks are a healthy, rosy pink, and her movements are steady.
Today’s a good day.
“Smells great in here.” I lean my hip against the counter. “Whatcha making?”
“Your favorite. I knew you’d be starving after today.” She gives me a quick peck on the cheek before focusing on the chicken she’s seasoning. “How did practice go?”
“Good. Great, actually. I have a great group of girls to work with.”
“They’re so lucky to have you as their coach.” She arches a brow. “And how was Ainsley?”
I pop a nonchalant shoulder. “Oh, you mean the grown woman who is still holding onto something I did seventeen years ago? She’s wonderful. Very friendly.”
Mom’s lips twist into a smirk. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but her anger is a good thing.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “You say that because you haven’t been on the receiving end of it.”
“Anger means she’s hurt, and hurt means she cares. It’s when a woman stops caring that you should be worried.”
“Or maybe she just hates me that much.”
Her green eyes sparkle as she smiles up at me. “Nobody could hate you, my boy.”
I think Ainsley Morgan would disagree.
Mom gasps. “You should invite her and the girls over for a team BBQ. It’ll be just like old times.”
I grimace. “I don’t think she’d go for that.”
“Tell her the invite is from me.” Mom winks. “She won’t be able to say no to that.”
