The noisethat pulls me from my dream is loud and incessant.
The bane of my fucking existence.
I open an eye. Moonlight sneaks through the curtains, and I know it’s way too early to drag my ass out of bed.
But the noise won’t stop.
Phone.
It’s my phone.
Groaning, I sit up. I reach for the bedside table, knocking a stack of books to the floor. I answer without looking at the caller ID, grunting when I’m finally figure out how to slide my thumb across the screen in my state of deliriousness.
“Hello?” I rub my eyes, the room coming into focus. “Who is this?”
“Coach.”
Maverick’s voice. Brittle, scared, and I’m thrown back to the night of Riley’s accident. I sit up straight, instantly awake. I fumble for the lamp so I can see, bracing myself and begging the universe not to be a cruel motherfucker to me twice in two years.
“Maverick. Are you okay?” I ask, twisting the sheets tight in my grip.
“Am I okay? Am Iokay?” A sharp laugh. The slam of a door and heavy footsteps. “No, I’m not okay! I don’t know what the fuck to do! I thought I had two more weeks.Two more weeks. Fourteen days! But nope. Not anymore. Why does no one teach you how to?—”
“Maverick,” I almost shout, cutting in. “You need to tell me what the hell is going on so I can figure out how to help.”
“Emmy is in labor,” he whispers. “And I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“Fucking Christttttt.” I deflate, dropping my head against the wall. My heart is racing, and I shove aside the fear that’s lodged in my throat. “Your wife is about to push a human out of her, and you’re wondering whatyou’resupposed to do? Get off the phone with me and get your ass in there with her.”
“Yes. Yeah.That. I should do that, but I’m so fucking scared, Coach.” There’s a long pause. A crack in his voice. “How can I be a father when I didn’t have one growing up? I’m fucking clueless on how I should act and what I should say. How do I punish my baby girl if she does something wrong? What if she hates me? What if she wants to grow up and play fuckingbaseball? And what about Emmy? I’m doing everything I can to be the best husband, and now I’m a father too? She’s going to resent me. I’m not good enough and?—”
“Take a breath, Mav,” I tell him, and he blows out a long exhale. I don’t want to laugh and have him think I’m making fun of him, but this is déjà vu. The exact thought process I went through before Olivia arrived. “Good. What hospital are you in?”
“MedStar. The same one where Riley lost his leg.” A softer exhale. Gratitude in his next words. “I’m so glad whoever is up there looking down at this shitshow we call life decided to be fucking kind to us.”
“How dilated is Emmy?”
“I don’t know. Her water broke at the house. I drove her here. Then I came out to the hall because I’mpanicking, man.”
“Listen to me, Mav. That terrified feeling? I hate to break it to you, but it’s never going to go away. You’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering if what you’re doing is good enough for your little girl, then one day, you’ll blink and she’s going to be a teenager. Getting ready to learn how to drive and going to school dances. I spend every second of every day scaredshitless. I’m afraid I’m one step away from royally fucking up the single greatest accomplishment of my life. You have to figure it out as you go. There’s no handbook. No set of rules to follow.” I kick off the sheets and stand. “But guess what? You now have the greatest job in the world. You’re going to be a girl dad, and there’s no championship, no amount of money,nothingthat will ever beat that.”
“Oh my god.” Maverick lets out a choked sob. “I’m going to be a girl dad. I’m such a lucky bastard.”
“Yeah, buddy. You are. Hang up with me. Go be with Emmy. She’s tough as hell, but she needs you. I’ll let the guys know what’s going on.”
“You will?”
“You all are so codependent.” I chuckle. “They’d hate me if I left them in the dark.”
“We’re pathetic, aren’t we? I want them here. I want you here too.”
“Then that’s where we’ll be. Mav?”
“Yeah?”
The hope in his voice clinches my heart and squeezes tight. It makes this next part easy to say.
“You’re going to be the best dad in the world,” I tell him. Slow, so each word registers. So there’s not a doubt in his mind. “And when you’re ever questioning that—which you will, trust me—you come find me, okay? I’ll remind you.”
