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CHAPTER5
Tristan
He drives up to the field in a shiny black Range Rover. I’m sure there’s more to the spectacular details of the oversized SUV than that, but I’m not exactly well-versed in cars. Never had the time or the money. There’s a small parking lot, which is, as always, close to empty. Most of the kids in the league take public transportation or walk to the field. Remi pulls into a spot—thankfully not at an obnoxious don’t-dent-my-door angle—hops out, and trots toward the field where Jared and I are waiting for the team to arrive.
“Hey, Tristan!” Remi calls as he approaches. When he stops a few feet in front of us, he smiles warmly at my nephew and says, “You must be Jared.”
Jared doesn’t even say hello. “Our coach couldn’t come today, and Uncle Tris knows, like, zero about soccer. The Brentwood Bears—that’s our team—are gonna get our butts kicked, like, big time.”
“Before you start whining, maybe you should say hello to Remi.” I tussle Jared’s mop of blond hair. “He came all way here from downtown Garner City to help me coach.”
“Hello,” Jared replies obediently. “Do you play soccer, or what?”
“I’ve played for years—I know the game inside out.”
“So, there’s, like, hope for a Bears’ win?”
“I’d say so. Come on, let’s warm up.”
As Remi jogs out to the field, kicking a ball from the sideline in front of him, I can’t help but notice the agile fitness of his lanky frame. Clad in black wind pants, a soccer heartbeat hoodie, and a Red Sox cap, he looks more athlete than artist.
Jared watches as Remi does some fancy soccer moves. His scowl quickly morphs into a grin. “Foot stalls! And like, heel pops too!” Jared knows the names of the tricks Remi is doing. “Holy bleep, Uncle Tris—he just did an around-the-world!” Jared races out onto the field to join him. “Wait up, Coach Remi! Show me how to do those ball tricks!”
As the team members and their parents trickle in, I greet them. When the boys get a load of Remi’s skills, they bolt onto the field to get in on the action.
“It seems you brought a friend along to help you coach,” notes Mrs. Rivera.
“I did.”
“I’ve never seen Dario so enthused.”
“I… uh, know him from work. He offered to help out.” I don’t go into the specifics of my job unless people ask questions—and then I keep my explanation vague.
“He’s running drills on basic skills now, and the boys are still paying attention,” she adds, impressed. “I think today’s game is gonna be very interesting. Your friend, um…”
“Remi.”
“Remi’s skills put Coach Wells’ ability to shame,” Mrs. Rivera replies. “Look at how the kids are studying his every move… They’re absolutely wide eyed.”
“The boys aren’t the only ones who are gawking with admiration.” Blushing, Ms. Horovitz leans in to join the discussion. “The man is… very attractive.”
“Just like you, Tristan,” Mrs. Rivera purrs. “Never fear—you’re still the hottest soccer uncle.”
Lucky for everyone, all this soccer uncle needs to do in terms of coaching is pass out juice boxes and granola bars at the half. Remi easily leads the boys to a three-to-one victory. And he is fair about it, allowing each child to share in playing time.
After the game, he gathers the kids on the sidelines. “Okay, guys. We need to thank the Coyotes for a well-played game.”
“But we beat 'em, Coach. They’re losers,” argues one of the team’s bigger boys.
“Aren’t we supposed to sing that ‘nah-nah-nah-nah, goodbye’ song now?” asks Dario.
Remi shakes his head. “No. It’s important to show good sportsmanship.” He arranges them in a line with Jared in the front. “We’re going to file past the Coyotes and give them all high fives. And we’ll congratulate them on a good game.”
“We do that after summer league basketball games,” Jared offers.
“Good to know,” Remi says. “Now I’m going to talk to the Coyotes’ coach. Jared, when I give the signal, I want you to lead the team to the middle of the field.”
“Coolio, Coach,” Jared replies, giddy to have been given a leadership role.
To the delight of the observing parents, the boys politely thank the other team. After gushing their appreciation to Remi, the families disperse.
“Good game, Coach Remi,” I say. “I like how you handled the kids. It wasn’t all about beating the Coyotes, but you still managed to win.”
“Tonight was fun, actually.” Remi shrugs. “Didn’t expect that.”
I smile. “I love working with kids too. Someday, I want to be a kindergarten teacher.”
His jaw drops. He leans close to me and whispers, “But you’re a nude model.”
“That isn’t my career goal.”
“Then why aren’t you teaching? Or at least studying at a school of education?”
“Long story.” Not to mention a sob story. “Mostly, it’s about a shortage of cash.”
“I’m interested in your story.” The words seem to surprise him. Remi glances away, as if flustered by his admission. “Can I, maybe, take you and Jared out for ice cream?”
“He hasn’t had dinner yet. Tara will string me up by my toenails if I feed him ice cream before dinner.”
“Please can we have ice cream with Coach Remi, Uncle Tris? I swear I’ll eat dinner—like, every bite—even if I put down a whole banana split!”
“And bananas are a healthy food—they’re fruit,” Remi reminds me. “What do you say?”
“Will ice cream before dinner be our little secret, Jared?” I ask my nephew with a nudge.
“You know it!” He pumps his fist.
“Well, go ahead and get in my SUV,” Remi says, unlocking it with the remote.
Jared races for the Range Rover and hops into the backseat. “Like, nice wheels, Coach!”
* * *
