The One & Only(139)
“Do you think we’ll get him?” I asked.
“Oh, depends on how much money we can scrape together to pay him under the table.”
I stared at him.
“It was a joke,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.
I turned my cheek slightly, his lips landing to the left of mine in no-man’s-land.
“So … will we? Get him?” I asked again, stalling, pretending to focus only on the state of Walker recruiting.
“I think it’ll come down to us or Ohio State. We’ll have to see. How was your day? And why are you looking at me funny?”
“I’m not looking at you funny.”
“You are.” He stared at me. “And now you’re looking at me even funnier. I know you. I know your face.”
I swallowed, buying a few extra seconds with a lesser announcement. “I got fired today.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Shit,” he said. “You’re not kidding?”
I shook my head. “No. But it’s okay. I was sort of resigning anyway. Smiley just beat me to the punch.”
“Shea. Honey. I’m sorry. Why?” He squinted for a second, then seemed to piece it together. “Oh, shit. Did this happen because … of us?”
I shook my head, looking down at my feet.
He slid two fingers under my chin and lifted it until I was looking into his eyes again. “Tell me the truth.”
“Well, yeah. I mean … kind of. It’s just too much of a conflict,” I said, wishing that I’d talked to Lucy before I gave up my job.
“I feel terrible. Can I talk to Smiley? Surely there’s some way …”
“No. Don’t call him. It’s okay. I’m sort of relieved. It really was a conflict …”
“What are you going to do? Get your old job back?”
“My old job’s gone. J.J. already replaced me.”
“You can’t be replaced,” he said, without missing a beat.
I tried to smile, hoping he meant that in all ways. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Okay …” he said, looking unconvinced and very worried. “Let me know how I can help. Whatever you need. You know we can figure something out at Walker. There will always be a place for you here.”
“Thank you,” I said, thinking that my job was the least of my concerns tonight. “I’ll be all right.”
He put his hand out, as if asking me to slow-dance, his expression shifting from concern to one of pure affection. It melted my heart and made me want to take back everything I’d promised Lucy. Instead, I led him over to my sofa and blurted it all out. Everything I’d told her. The choice I’d made.
“Well. There you have it,” he said with a long sigh.
“What do you think?” I asked, glancing at him while he stared straight ahead.
“What do I think?”
“Yes. Tell me.”
“I understand.”
“Do you agree with … my decision?” I said, wanting him to fight for me, tell me how foolish I’d been.
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“You always know,” I said, feeling frantic.
“I respect it. I respect you. I respect your friendship with Lucy.”
“So that’s it?” I said, realizing just how much I’d been relying on him to save us, change my mind, find some of the gray area he was so fond of. But I was getting the terrible, desperate feeling that he actually agreed with me. That he believed that not being together was the right thing to do. That he might have known all along that this was our foregone conclusion.
Coach sighed and said, “Listen. This isn’t all on you. I had a talk with Lucy, too. Not as direct as yours, but a talk … And I think … I think she feels that I’ve abandoned her.”
“Abandoned her? How?”
“With her mother gone, she only has me … as far as parents go. And I think I’ve let her down. I know she feels that way.”
“But you’re a wonderful father,” I said, comparing him to my own.
“But I’m a better football coach,” he said. “In some ways, at least the ways you can observe and measure, I’ve always put football first. And I think she sees you as part of that … Because you and I share that love of the game. We have that bond. Lucy and I … don’t. So I think being with you is just another example, in her mind, of me picking football over her. And I can’t do it to her any more than you can … Maybe she’ll come around. Maybe we’ll have a chance later … Never say never, right? But in the meantime, you need to go live your life.”