“She was,” I nodded.
After a few moments of easy silence, Noah said, “I called the hospice chaplain back, and she put me in touch with the manager of the home. They said it wouldn’t be any problem to set up a small service now and have you video-conferenced in to be part of it. And then later, after the baby is born, you can go back and have a larger memorial service with all of Daneen and Lana’s friends.”
I twisted—as much as an eight months pregnant woman was capable of such a thing—to stare at Noah. “Are you serious? You did that?”
“Of course.” He hugged me a little tighter. “I know it’s not what you really wanted, but it’s something, at least.”
“It’s a very big something,” I whispered. “And I can’t tell you how much it means that you took care of it for me. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t figure out what was the right thing to do.”
“Because you’re grieving, sweetheart. That’s what you’re going through. You would’ve dealt with it, but I was glad to do it so that you didn’t have to.”
His words were simple and matter-of-fact and all the dearer to me because of that.
I reached up to touch his face, urging him to lower his head toward mine, and when he did, I kissed his cheek.
“Thank you, Noah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He touched my chin and stared into my eyes. What I saw there made my breath hitch, and I thought for a moment, he was going to say something to me. I hoped with a shocking urgency that he was going to kiss me.
But in the end, he only touched the tip of my nose with his finger and smiled. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 13
Noah
"Spencer." Coach stood up from where he was sitting at a small round table in the corner of the coffee shop. He stretched out a hand toward me. "Good to see you. You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you."
"Thank you, sir." I shook his hand. "I feel a hell of a lot better than I did then, too. I want to say again, sir, that I'm sorry for –"
"No more apologies, Spencer." Coach shook his head. "That's water under the bridge now." He hesitated. "I assume you saw all the paperwork for your retirement?”
"Yeah." I nodded. "Everything looked good to me. And I appreciate the team waiting as long as you did to make the announcement. I heard from the head of PR that you're going to release a statement next week?"
Coach nodded. "Of course, it's more of a formality now than anything else. I don't think anybody is under the impression that you're going to be coming back to play with us this year. Not after we drafted Ramonez."
"True," I chuckled, thinking of the guy who’d come to Tampa from Detroit. “I never thought I'd be saying this, but I’m looking forward to seeing him play."
“So are we. We’re going to miss you, Spencer. We already do. But with any luck, Ramonez will do the job.” Coach rapped his knuckles once on the table, a gesture that I recognized from team meetings. It meant that he was ready to get down to business and stop with the annoying small talk.
"So here's the deal, Spencer." He fastened an intense gaze on me. "You've been in this business, the game, for a long time. I've worked with men who can play football and play it well, but they couldn't tell you why or how they succeeded." He pointed at me. "But you, you're a different story. From the beginning of your career in Tampa, I could tell that you had an innate understanding of the game and why it works the way it does. The coaching staff always appreciated your insight and how well you advised the rest of the team."
"Thank you, sir." I inclined my head. "I think when you love the game the way that I do, you want to know everything that you can about it. For me, it was never a means to an end. Football is an art form, a dance. I love its intricacies just the same way that I love its raw passion."
"Which is exactly why I'm going to make you this offer." Coach leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. "We want you to come work for us, Noah. We'd like you to join the coaching staff. Now, I don't know if you've been making other plans, thinking about getting into broadcasting or some shit like that, but you'd be wasted there. Hell, you might do a half-decent job, but it would eat you up not to have the time and energy and space to share what you know about the game. But here, with us, we can use you. You'd still be part of the family, part of the team."
I leaned back in my chair, frankly shocked. "I had no idea you were thinking along these lines, sir,” I admitted. "I didn't think that coaching would even be an option for me. Not yet. Or if I did do it, I thought it would have to be for a high school team or maybe a college program."
Coach offered me one of his rare, wide smiles. "Well, settle down, kid." He winked at me. "I didn't say I was offering youmyjob. You’d just be on the staff, ground floor stuff, you know. But you'd have opportunities to work your way up. And while money might not be an issue right now, with a baby on the way, you're gonna find out how fast it all goes. This would give you some stability in that department, too."
I nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Do you need to know my answer right away, sir?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I'd never ask you to make a decision like that without talking to your. . . well, whatever she is to you.” Coach waved his hand. “To the mother of your child. But what I can tell you is this: by taking this job, you'd be able to stay in Tampa indefinitely. Oh, you might have an offer or three or four to move to another team. One of the coaches on the staff gets offered a head gig, and they want to take you with them – that would be your choice. But I think that I'm right in saying that as long as you'd want to stay in Tampa, it would be an opportunity for you." He shrugged. "If that might factor into your decision."
"It might," I agreed. "And I'd like to talk to Alison about it. I'd like to get her input and see what she thinks. But I’ve got to say, sir, I'm pretty excited."
"Good. I’ll email you all of the details when I get back to the office—the parameters of the job and the compensation package we’re offering. I'm gonna tell you something right now, though, Spencer. I had to go to bat for you. I had to go to bat with Carl Nance and some of the other high-ups. With everything that was going on between you and Juliet after you got hurt, there were a lot of people who didn't want to touch you with a ten-foot pole. I told them that you'd pulled your shit together and that you weren't going to lose it again.” He pointed at me again. “Don't make me a liar."
I shook my head. "I will not, sir."
