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“Thanks, it’s a dream come true to finally have my own bakery,” she says as she slides my coffee over to me. “Let me get your scone. They’re still warm.”
“Thanks.” I look around. A large round table in the back full of older ladies looks away quickly as I glance over. One of them giggles, and another says something, and they all glance at me. This makes the rest of the table erupt in laughter, and a few sneak glimpses of me.
I smile politely and look away. I recognize a few of them from around town.
“Here you go.” She slides a plate over to me. “Ignore them,” she whispers. “They’re playing matchmaker. Word on the street is that you’re the most eligible bachelor in Freedom Valley.”
“Um, I’ll pass on that.” I shake my head and smile as I head to Coach’s table.
“Thanks, SJ,” she calls as she helps the next customer.
“How are you doing, son?” Coach leans his forearms on the thick dark wooden table. He still looks the same, just an older version of the coach I remember as a kid. He’s worn a Freedom Valley Eagles hat and hoodie as a standard uniform for as long as I’ve known him.
“Doing good. How about yourself?” I slide in across from him.
“Just wanted to touch base and see how you’re doing.” He takes a sip of his coffee, and his eyes go from me to the table in the corner watching me.
“Friends of yours?” he asks with amusement.
“Friends of the owner.” I shrug. “I don’t know them.”
He nods. “Ahh, okay.”
I go back to his previous question. “I was hoping you’d have news for me about the coaching position.”
His face fell for a second, and I didn’t miss it. “The board was supposed to vote and make you the assistant coach until I officially retire. They haven’t done it yet. The word is, they were waiting on funding for the position. We haven’t been doing so great in the past years, and they say they don’t have the funds yet. That’s what they’re telling me anyway.”
I take a sip of my coffee and set it back down. “Can we be real, Coach?”
“Always.” He leans in.
“Do you actually think this will happen?” Sitting back, I fold my arms across my chest and stare at him.
“They’d be idiots not to hire you. Hell, you’re doing it as a volunteer right now. If that doesn’t count for something, then I don’t know what does.”
“It’s not about the money. I already have a job. Iwantthe position. But I’m starting to wonder if people on the board are holding up the process on purpose.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, scratching his jaw.
“Hamilton McGraw.” I sigh.
The thorn in my side, Callie’s father. The man who destroys anything in his proximity. Doesn’t matter what it is—jobs, businesses, families. He doesn’t care as long as he gets what he wants. And I suspect he wants to make sure I never become a football coach.
Coach scoffs. “I won’t let that happen.”
“He plays dirty. I wouldn’t put it past him to get other board members to agree with whatever he wants.”
“Then we fight back,” he counters.
“And how will we do that?”
“We win games.”
I nod and grin. “We can do that.”
“I’m glad you’re back, Reid. You’re going to be a fine head coach,” he says proudly.
It feels good to hear this from him. In high school, football was the only way I felt like I belonged. Now, I want to coach because I want to make sure that any kid who feels like I did in high school doesn’t. I want to be a mentor to these kids and make sure that town bullies like Hamilton McGraw don’t fuck up the next generation like they did to me. And Hamilton McGraw better understand that he’s not running things anymore. I am.
