My world comes to a halt as the pieces start to come together. Samuels also has a daughter a few years younger than me. He was likely getting rid of me to get her ready to take my spot. I never considered it before, because I never thought he’d stooped that low to ensure his daughter’s success.
A sinking feeling fills my stomach. “Let me guess, he’s trying to do the same thing to me?”
“Perscisely. Now it’s up to you if you want to reach out to her, see if she’s willing to speak up against him, or you can do this solo.”
“I’ll reach out to her and see if she’d be willing to share her story. I think it’s important,” I say, knowing that we’re stronger together and the world deserves to know what a scumbag Coach Samuels is.
“I’m really sorry about all of this,” Idris’s tone is contrite.
“It’s not like you did it. Don’t worry about it.”
“Still doesn’t make it okay. I’ve got two daughters and a wife, and if anyone did this to them, I’d make sure they paid the price.” He cracks his knuckles, and I get the feeling that he’s referring to rather violent methods based on the scar on his forehead.
Idris and I chat for a little longer. He shares stories of Quentin growing up, all of which make me smile.
It seems like he really was a bit of a wild child back in his days, but as he got older, he changed to take care of Camille and himself when he left the country.
“He seems happier,” Idris remarks as he stands from his seat at the dining room table.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I say humbly.
“I do. I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been like this.”
“Like what?”
“Himself. Of course he’s never going to be that rambunctious teenager again, at least I hope for your sake, but it’s nice to hear that he’s happy.” He smiles at me, and it nearly startles me because I didn’t think the man was capable of doing so.
“I’m glad to hear that.” I dip my chin and then stand, leading him to the door.
“You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?” he asks once more once he’s on the front steps.
“Positive. Thank you, though, for everything. Quentin mentioned you are sort of retired, so I appreciate you digging into this.”
“Not a problem. I may be retired, but if my family ever needs anything, I’m there.” He nods, then heads down the steps to his blacked-out Audi.
Later that night, once I’m showered and in bed, I get a phone call from Quentin.
“Hi,” I answer, wincing as I adjust myself.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is panicked.
“Nothing,” I reassure him. “My back’s just been sore, same as usual. Me and the baby are great.”
“Okay.” He blows out a breath of relief. “Tonight sucked.”
He’s referring to their third World Series game in Florida, as they lost, getting beat three to two. I watched from our bed, yelling at the umpires for what seemed like stupid calls tonight.
“You win some, you lose some. Go back out there tomorrow and kick some ass.”
“Thanks,mon coeur. We’ll do our best.” His chuckle vibrates through the phone, and I wish he were here so I could feel it with my head on his chest.
I may or may not be a big cuddler now. Never did I think I could be so soft, and yet, I guess that’s what love does to you. It makes you feel safe enough to step back from being on all the time and simply exist while someone takes care of you.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Two more days,” he says, sounding disappointed about the length of time. “How did it go with Idris?”
“Yeah, about that. I don’t need a babysitter,” I say sarcastically.
