I met Nick through the Thrusters’ retirement assistance program. I’m on the list of life coaches that they recommend to help aging athletes figure out what they want to do with their lives post-sports.
And I’m on that list because Coach Elizabeth recommended me.
While I can’t say I played for ten or fifteen years like a lot of the men and women I do short-term coaching with around town, I can one hundred percent relate to feeling lost after having the one thing you’ve loved taken from you.
“You doing okay?” Kami whispers to me while we hug each other in greeting.
“With the move? Yep.”
“Withbeing here.”
Nick fell on theI’m going to retire and do nothing but dote on my wife with all of my free timeend of the big dreams and goals spectrum, but it turned out he needed a little more to fill his days.
Kami called me on his behalf, asked me to pretend to be a new friend and come over for dinner to see if I could help him find a way to keep hockey in his life, since caring for their chickens and cows wasn’t quite as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be. And also because he has a mischievous streak that doesn’t play well with too much free time.
We became real friends, I made a few suggestions and calls pro bono, and then ended up in Kami’s office asking her if there were animal therapies she could do on me for a broken heart.
I’m pretty sure Nick doesn’t know that.
If he did, my ex wouldn’t be attending this wedding tonight.
See again, Nick doesn’t do well with time on his hands.
But also—I haven’t seen these two in a few months either.
“I’mgreat,” I tell Kami, making myself concentrate on the parts of that statement that are true. “I’m off to live my dreams in London in two weeks, and I found some arm candy in the meantime.”
She slides a look at Fletcher, Nick and Luca, who are all talking like old friends while Henri squats low in her dress to take a picture of one of the placards amidst the ground foliage. Research, most likely.
“Nick came home after one of his office days last week and told me he was investing in the rugby league,” she murmurs. “It seems your date’s been making the rounds to all of the teams looking to build fan support here, with a plan of how to do it across the entire league.”
Fletcher knows these people.
He already knows these people.
And if he’s already been to talk to active players and staff members for the Thrusters and the Fireballs, who else has he talked to?
He agreed to come when I dangled networking.
But if he already knows the first two people I’ve introduced him to, he probably knows more people across the Copper Valley sports industry than I do.
Which begs the question, is he here to see them again, or is he here for me?
Or is my blossoming suspicion that I’m about to pay for burning off his mustache something I should’ve thought about more thoroughly before I proposed this date thing?
“Goldie?” Kami says softly. “You okay?”
I shake my head, then smile. “Yes. Yes. Of course.”
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Henri announces as she rises, “but Nick was right. We should keep walking if we want good seats.”
“It’s not assigned seating?” Kami says.
“It probably is, and that means people will be switching, and I want to make sure we don’t get stuck on the wrong side of a seat swap.”
All of us—even Fletcher—grimace at that.
Luca takes Henri’s hand and leads.
