As if sensing I need encouragement, he claps me on the shoulder. "These guys are hungry. Give ’em direction, and they’ll run through walls. Trust me."
I muster a small smile, take a giant stride forward and bellow, "O-line to the sleds, D-line to the bags. Come on, hustle!"
"So how was your first day?" Tex asks over dinner at The Leafy Nook that evening.
"It went…well."
He bites into his panini. "We need to work on your enthusiasm levels, mister."
I chuckle. "You may be right." I go through the first training session, which wasn't entirely an unmitigated disaster, and as I do, I notice he's struggling to stay engaged. "You not a football fan?"
He shakes his head. "Not really. I watch the occasional game, and I'm super impressed by the incredible work the coaching and support staff do, but it's not really my thing."
"Prefer dropping a line in the water?"
His whole face lights up. "Exactly." He takes another bite, chews slowly, then asks, "Don't suppose you're free to join me for some ice fishing this Saturday? I was thinking of going to Frostwillow Lakes. It's a nice, quiet spot about half an hour out of town."
"What time you thinking?" I ask since don't fishermen like to get up at the crack of dawn? Early birds catching the worm and all that.
He grins. "Don't worry. I'm not a die-hard angler. My Saturday morning sleep-in is sacred to me. I wake up whenever and then leave after breakfast."
"That should work," I say, and he's right, I need to work on my convincibility. Even I wouldn't buy that. "I just have a phone call with my lawyer at nine regarding the custody battle," I explain.
His grin slips. "I see."
I spear a few buttered green beans onto my fork, wondering whether to elaborate or if that would make things even more awkward than they've already become.
Tex looks to the side, his eyes sharpening as if in thought, then he turns back to me and says, "I realize we've only just met, and that's why I've tried to not bring up anything you might not want to talk about. But I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, I'm happy to listen."
"Oh." I have some trouble swallowing. "Um. Thank you."
It's been so long since anyone has reached out to me with such genuine kindness I don't know how else to respond.
"One more thing," he adds.
"Yes?"
He leans over and swipes his thumb against the side of my mouth. "You had a bit of sauce there."
"Uh… Thanks."
He smiles radiantly. "No problem," he says and continues eating.
I suppose I should do the same, but I feel…disorientated. The kindness, his touch, I really have been starved of even the most basic decency from my fellow humans for a long time.
I get why. Whenever a person is accused of sexual misconduct, take the side of the victim.Always. What sucks is that in my case, I was set up. Belinda admitted it when the police found inconsistencies in her story. She wanted to permanently destroy my reputation, and she succeeded. Even though I'm innocent, in a lot of people's minds, I'll always be associated with those awful allegations.
Losing my coaching job was tough, but the even tougher blow was getting booted off the board of a domestic violence organization I had been involved with for fifteen years.
Again, I understand why they had to do it, optics and all that, but it hurt because protecting victims is a cause that's been close to my heart ever since I witnessed how my alcoholic father treated my mother. I swore as a kid that when I grew up, I'd do whatever I could to help. Andas a father of three young girls, that need to protect and make sure all girls and women are safe has only grown stronger.
"It's a yes, by the way," I say. "To Saturday. I'll gladly come along with you."
Tex smiles, and a sharp jolt hits my heart. "Awesome. You ever ice fished before?"
"Not since I was a kid."
"So, what, seventy years ago?"
