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When we reach the car, one of the players from the other team approaches with his dad. The kid looks a little confused, but his dad seems downright nervous.
“Wes Straight?” he asks.
“That’s me.” I give him a friendly smile despite feeling awkward. I’ve been out of the game long enough that I don’t often get recognized, except on a football field, which is why I almost didn’t sign on to coach with Colt. In the end, Sawyer said if her son was going to play this crazy game he might as well learn from two of the best.
“I thought so. And Colt Trudeau was on the sideline too, right?”
“He was.” I pick up the water cooler and set it in the bed of the truck.
“I’ll be dam…I mean, wow. This guy used to play in the pros,” he tells his son.
The little boy studies me. “You look like the guy on TV. The one who builds houses.”
That I love getting recognized for. With Pop’s help I started a charity to help people with disabilities build or renovate their homes, and I do commercials to raise money. Most of our recipients come from Sawyer’s work at the hospital, where she finds people in need.
“I’m that too,” I tell him. “Great game today.” I offer my hand and the little guy looks at it curiously before extending his own. I give his dad a handshake too, and an autograph, while Sawyer helps Ethan out of his pads and into the truck. She’s trying not to snicker. My wife loves to see me embarrassed.
After we’re all packed up, I open the door for Sawyer so she can climb in the truck, but instead of shutting it I step to her and take her face in my hands, kissing her soundly. Even when she’s laughing at me I can’t get enough of her.
“Eew,” Ethan groans. “Do you guys always have to do that?”
“Always, buddy.”
“Why?” he groans, crossing his little arms in front of his chest.
“Because when it comes to your mom,” I stare into the green eyes that are my whole world, “I can never do anything just once.”
Ethan covers his eyes as I kiss my wife again, for what will never be the last time.
***
