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When Aaron lays out the Bagel Bites, I hand him the box of taquitos next. He takes it, and we work in unison, like we have a thousand times before, laying out all the food that we provide every Thursday night. And, yes, it’s always the same food on the same plastic plates since my dad started this little shindig. He can be a little superstitious, and don’t even think of messing with his traditions.
Just as we put the food in the oven, the doorbell rings, and we glance at each other in question.
No one ever rings the doorbell. It’s a known thing that you just walk in for these Thursday night events.
I look at the clock on the stove and see it’s only five fifty. Though my dad opens our home to everyone, it’s on a strict time frame of six to ten. Not a minute sooner and not a minute later.
I head to the door and open it to see a guy I’ve never met before. He’s around my age and standing there with his head up and his back straight. He’s wearing a blue hat that just saysCalacross it in gold, so I get the feeling he’s not from around our small Tennessee town.
When he doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Can I help you?”
He lifts his head. “I’m here to see Coach Zeeman.” He glances around. “This is the correct house, right?”
Aaron walks up behind me. “You got the right house, but you’re early. Coach has a strict—”
“Beau Brady, right?” Dad comes from down the hall and nudges us out of the way to get to the guy standing on our front porch.
If this is Beau, then he sure doesn’t show it by his mannerisms. He just stands there, stoic, as he nods his head.
Dad reaches out his hand to Beau’s. “I’m Coach Z. Glad you could make it. Come in.”
They shake hands, and Beau steps in our home. He’s slightly taller than Aaron, who I’ve always thought is one of the tallest kids our age, and he has wider shoulders as well. But it’s not just his stature; it’s his demeanor. Something about him comes off as hard almost; maybe it’s his darker features to Aaron’s more clean-cut ones. He doesn’t wear the smile that most guys have plastered on their faces when they meet my dad. Beau seems unfazed and as casual about the situation as he could possibly be.
It’s almost refreshing to see someone not go gaga over my dad.
“This is my daughter, Sadie, and Aaron, our neighbor. Sadie’s on the drill team, and Aaron will be one of your teammates.”
I smile and wave as Aaron sticks his hand out to Beau, and they shake.
Dad leads us into the kitchen, and we all follow. Aaron glances in my direction in question, and I shrug, having no clue who he is.
“Well, Beau, welcome to Tennessee,” Dad says as he leans on the counter, eyeing the kid up and down. “Your coach said he was really sad to see you go. Said you were the best wide receiver he’d seen in a while.”
My eyes meet with Aaron, who raises his eyebrows just enough for me to notice.
Beau nods, which I’m finding he does a lot of in his quiet state, but the way his lips tilt ever so slightly shows me he’s got a cocky side, just doesn’t want to show it right away.
Then, he responds with, “I just like to play. Thanks for giving me a shot to try out this late in the game.”
“Tryouts already happened, but games don’t start for a month or so. When your old coach explained your situation with your mom’s work and the fact that he was willing to make that call for you, it told me all I needed to know.” He motions toward Aaron. “Aaron here will be the JV quarterback, so you’ll work closely together. We already have a few wide receivers, but I’m all about having people compete for playing time. I think it builds character.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Beau says confidently. “I’m here to prove to you I deserve this spot, no matter what my other coach said.”
“Well then, we’ll have to see what you got tomorrow at practice. Tonight, we’ll see how you get along with the team. We do things a little differently here than in California. All feelings are left on the sidelines. Football is a game for men, and if I don’t make you a professional player, I’m going to make you the toughest man out there.”
He actually smiles at that and claps his hands together. “Then, I came to the right town.”
I know my dad likes that response. He’s been accused of being too tough on some kids. He says our world is getting too soft, and he seems like he makes it his personal mission in life to make sure he’s not assisting in that new trend. His father was tough on him, and his grandfather had been tough on his father. He says that’s what makes men willing to put in a hard day’s work to keep our society going.
Needless to say, he’s a little old school.
Except when it comes to me.
He might act all tough around the players, but when it’s just the two of us, I have him wrapped around my finger. I am a daddy’s girl forever.
The only problem with that though is everyone also knows to not even come near me because they will have to answer to him. And no one ever wants to cross Coach Z, especially boys my age.
Dad turns to Aaron and me. “I had him come early so I could meet him officially and introduce him to you two. Aaron, please make sure you introduce him to everyone tonight. He’ll be out at tomorrow’s practice, and I don’t want anyone questioning who he is or why he’s there. That’s my business and no one else’s.” My dad’s expression leaves no room for misinterpretation.
