He’s too young to know any better right now, but as he gets older, his understanding of the situation we’re in will deepen, and I’m not sure how to explain to him that I chose to stay in the career I love, rather than moving to somewhere where nobody could ever bother us again.
I have enough money to retire and live the life I want—not that I need much money to live that life; I’ve never been a materialistic person—but leaving this all behind to go fish, visit museums, or whatever people do when they retire, irks me.
The sound of the door opening behind me causes me to turn, and I pull my cap off my head to adjust it backwards, into its more comfortable position.
Coach Darrell is looking at me from the doorway, a sad smile playing on his lips. He waves at my son before nodding me in the direction of his office, and after grabbing Leo’s things and thanking Hazel again, my son and I follow him.
“You nearly got eaten alive in there,” Darrell says as he unlocks his office door, taking a seat.
“We all knew it was going to happen.”
“Yeah, but I was kind of hoping they’d give it a rest this year, you know?” He laughs. “That’s wishful thinking, I guess. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You know it doesn’t bother me.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry about Hazel having to take care of Leo.”
At the mention of his wife, Coach Darrell’s head tilts, and his face softens. “You know she loves Leo, West. We all do.” He smiles at my son, who’s busy playing with his race car by our feet. “We’re here to help both of you. We’re a family here, and when one man is struggling, we don’t just sit back and watch.” Humour takes over his face now. “Doesn’t mean I’m ecstatic when you tell me you’ve fired yet another nanny I’ve found for you, though.”
My mouth tugs into a grateful smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my tired eyes. “I think I justneed—”
Ping.
I immediately groan, the noise grating on me.
There’s no point in looking at my phone. I know what it is—another notification telling me that someone else has applied for the ad we posted, looking for a nanny for my son. Another application I’ll have to examine, only to turn my nose up at the applicant and move their form into thenofolder.
It’s overflowing at this point.
Coach will then move them back into theyesfolder without my knowledge, and they’ll proceed to the interview stage of the process.
This particular ad has been up for months. He refuses to let me take it down, but for good reason, since I go through nannies at the same rate the team does medical tape.
“You gonna take a look at that?” Coach Darrell quirks his brow at me from across the desk, his hands linked together at the back of his head as he reclines in his squeaky rolling chair.
I refuse to react to his teasing tone. “I’ve got a nanny booked for tomorrow’s training session. No need to panic.”
“Well, actually, there is a need to panic, Evan, because I never know whether you’ll show up to practice or not, because you couldn’t get someone to watch Leo. You were lucky Hazel was around today. Seriously, what’d this nanny do this time?”
“Brought her pet tarantula.”
Coach scrunches up his nose, a laugh falling from his mouth as he peers over at Leo. “I’m sure he would have loved that. Could adopt him one since the kid’s so interested in getting a pet. What would you call it, kid? Fluffy?”
I deadpan him, before following his gaze.
My son sits on the carpeted floor, the shiny red sports car in his tiny hand. He makes some kind of strange whooshing noise as he soars the piece of plastic through the air, clattering into the tower of bricks before him.
Watching my three-and-a-half-year-old lose himself in his own world of imagination reminds me, yet again, how time is flying. It feels like just yesterday I was holding him in my arms in the delivery room. He couldn’t say a word, just stared up at me with those wide grey eyes of his. The same ones I see in the mirror.
Being a single dad is tough. Some days are better than others, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I adore the little life we’ve created together. It might be full of stress and a major ballache sometimes, but it’sours.
“I’ve hired the next nanny on the list you drafted. I’ve got it covered, don't worry.”
“Yeah, well, that nanny will be gone in a day, so I hope you have a backup, and a backup for your backup.” Darrell crosses one leg over the other, the corner of his lip twitching. He’s trying to be nice, but I can tell the speed at which I churn through nannies aggravates him. He’s reaching the end of his tether with me, but is trying not to show it, and for that, I’m appreciative.
“This season is going to be tough. We're under a lot of pressure, so I need you to be here for as many training camp sessions as possible. Just because you’re guaranteed to be on the roster and are one of our best players doesn’t mean you can slack, Evan.”
