Page 66 of Shattered Dreams

She’s with Paul at the store picking up a few last-minute things that I forgot to grab. The first store he went to wasn’t open because it’s Thanksgiving morning—I get it—so he had to drive even further away.

I love seeing how comfortable she is with him now, and I keep thinking about how we need to come out and tell both her and Maddox about us. It’s just a difficult conversation to have with a child, nevermind kids like Rylee and Maddox, who are old enough to know that we aren’t their parents. Rylee loves Paul, and I don’t want her to resent him once she knows we're together, like he’s taking her mother’s place or something. I’m not sure if kids her age have feelings like that, but it’s possible, and it’s the last thing I want.

It’s the same for Maddox.

He likes Sean just fine, but he’s a little bit older, and finding out his dad is dating a guy might be a little difficult to come to terms with. We have a good relationship and I love the kid. I know he feels the same about me, but once you put a label on things, sometimes it all changes. That’s what I’m afraid of.

I’m basting the turkey when my phone starts to ring from the kitchen counter, cutting into the music that I was listening to. I finish what I’m doing before closing the oven and grabbing my phone. It’s an unknown number from out of state but something in my gut tells me to answer it. So I do.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Andre Taylor.”

“This is him,” I say carefully. “How can I help you?”

Spammers have gotten ridiculous with their methods these days, but this person doesn’t sound like a spammer.

“Hi, Mr. Taylor, my name is Shelby Allen. I’m the athletic director at New Haven University.”

The college is well known. I had a few players that came from New Haven and it was one of the schools I looked into going to when I was playing football in high school. They have a fantastic college team.

“What can I do for you, Shelby?” I ask, not a clue why she is calling me.

“I’m actually hoping you can do something for me.”

I chuckle. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“We’re making some changes to our football program. We haven’t announced anything publicly yet, so I’d appreciate your discretion.”

“Of course.”

“Well, your name came up in conversation…”

“Hopefully it was a good one.” I laugh again.

“Wouldn’t be calling otherwise,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice. “I hear you’re at Rockridge High school, coaching the Raccoons. They’re doing really well this season.”

“They’re good kids.”

“We’re looking for someone who can rebuild our program here. Someone the players will respect. Look up to. Someone with the track record and experience who can help them win.”

“And you’re looking for a recommendation?” I ask.

She laughs again. “No, Mr. Taylor. We’re looking for you.”

“Me? You want me to coach the Ocelots football team?”

“We sure do. We’re willing to negotiate terms immediately.”

“I’m not looking for a job.”

“Just meet me for dinner. Let’s have a conversation about it.” I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. “Come on, Coach. What harm can dinner do?”

“Can I think about it?” I finally get out.

“Of course. I can give you a week.”

“A week is good. Is this the number I can reach you at?”