“You know,” I said after a beat, “those boys you’re working with? Someday, they’ll be saying it was Coach Philips who laid the foundation. I’m proud of you, too.”
He chuckled, the kind that carried eighteen years of history of bruises and inside jokes no one else got. We talked a little longer, about the league, about life, before hanging up.
I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes. Off day. I’d told the guys after the win we’d regroup on Monday. They’d earned a breather, one day to ride the high before we got back to grinding.
“Uncle Sean?” Cassy’s voice followed a knock on the door.
“Hey, Sweet. Be there in a sec.”
“Okay.” Her footsteps padded away, fading down the hall.
I checked the time. Past noon. I thought I’d slept a couple of hours, not half the day. I stretched, dragging myself into theshower. The water hit like a wake-up slap, cool then hot, rinsing away the dull heaviness in my head. The citrus scent cut through the fog.
Mel’s text popped into view:Coach Extraordinairefollowed byhockey stick and flying piñata emojis.
I smiled. That text was still doing numbers in my head. She’d be here today, and that made me both excited and unsure. Problem was, I’d been out of this game a long time, and I had no damn clue what counted as a “casual Sunday” with the woman who had my full attention.
In the living room, Cassy perched on the edge of the couch, legs swinging, eyes glued to the TV. Pitou sat propped beside her like he was watching too, and a half-zipped jacket hung off her shoulders, one sleeve slipping down her arm.
She hopped up and met me halfway. “Uncle Sean, can we go skating today?”
I smiled and ruffled her hair. “You want a repeat, huh?”
She nodded solemnly. “Pitou wants to come too.”
I was about to answer when the back door opened and Abby stepped in, phone in hand.
“I’m sure you heard about skating,” she said with a knowing smile.
“She didn’t miss a beat,” I replied.
Abby fell into step beside me as we headed to the kitchen. The scent of fresh coffee lingered from earlier, and I poured myself a cup, the warmth seeping into my fingers.
“Great win last night,” she said. “What a match! I was sweating, so I had to walk around the couch a few times to relax.”
I chuckled. “Thanks. One of the best nights, that’s for sure.”
“You usually came through, for all I remember.”
Pride bubbled in my chest. Abby had always been one of my biggest fans, and I didn’t take that lightly.
“Thanks Abby. And how did it go with Jeff?”
“Very good, actually. He’s in New York. When he comes back, we’ll meet.” Her voice had a lift to it I hadn’t heard in months. A win for Abby’s face, finally free from its usual worry lines.
“We’ve been talking more,reallytalking,” she added, almost testing the words aloud.
“I’m happy for you guys.”
She smiled. “Thanks. Is Mel still on tonight?”
“Yeah. But let me text to confirm.”
I grabbed my phone and typed.
Me:Hey, dinner later, right?
A couple of minutes passed. Then:
