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He is not usually so direct on the phone, so it caught me off guard.
“Is everything okay?” I asked him.
“You’re going to think I am crazy,” he told me. “And maybe I am. Maybe I am totally batshit crazy. But if I don’t do this now, then I never will.”
Now I wasveryconfused.
“Not going to lie… you’re scaring me a little bit,” I told him. “Just tell me what is going on.”
Trent took a deep breath. “I am flying to Costa Rica tonight to stop Michelle’s wedding.”
I wanted to reach across the phone and shake my brother.
He was not thinking straight.
“Are you absolutely insane?” I said. “Michelle moved on. She’s gettingmarried, for God’s sake! You cannot fly to Costa Rica, Trent.”
“I will be gone for about two weeks,” he told me, brushing right past my protests. “So, I really need a favor.”
“You are actually going to stop your ex’s wedding?” I asked again, not ready to drop that point of conversation yet.
Trent exhaled heavily. “I have to at least try.”
I thought he was crazy to go, and I still think he is, but I know how he felt about Michelle.
He’d never loved anyone the way that he loved her. So if felt like he needed to do something as stupid as stop a wedding, then I couldn’t stand in his way.
I sighed. “What favor do you need?”
“I need someone to coach my soccer teams this week,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
My brother was impulsive, but I didn’t know he was this impulsive.
“I know absolutely nothing about coaching soccer,” I told him, trying to put a hard stop to his plan. “Why can’t you ask one of your coach friends?”
I heard a door shut through the phone. “Because they have their own teams to worry about. Please, sis? I will owe you so big.”
“Yes, you will,” I told him.
“So, you will do it?” he asked, heading a car door slam.
He was on his way to the freaking airport.
“It doesn’t seem like I have a choice,” I told him.
“Great,” he said. “I am headed to the airport now. Once I’m throught security, I will call you with the details. I love you; you are the best!”
And he hung up the phone before I could say anything else.
Now, standing in the beating sun with a team full of four-year-olds and their surprisingly intense parents, I am deeply regretting that I agreed to help out with this.
I played soccer in high school and college, but I have never coached a team.
And four-year-old girls will see through you right away.
“Okay, girls,” I yell for them. “Let’s play a game!”
