Rod
‘Come on! Come on, Bella, you got this! All the way! All the way!’
I’m slightly baffled. Okay, so I’m fully baffled. I watch Jordan run her own set of cones, cradling her ball right alongside Bella, one of our third-year campers, as the two of them step up to the net, swing, and stick it right in the centre.
‘Yesss!’ Jordan pumps her fist, her sunglasses somehow nowhere near ready to part with her face, despite the copious amount of running and jumping she’s been doing. She shares a high-five with Bella, who’s grinning a smile that’s short one recently fallen tooth. The two of them go on chattering happily as Jordan rejoins the line to redo the drill with the next camper.
Coach Jordan. Definitely not the reason I thought she was in town, but it made a decent amount of sense. I’d known Bennywas looking for another coach to help with our capacity issues, ideally someone from the Women’s League to help mentor our girls’ team campers. And honestly, I couldn’t complain. Jordan, from what I’d seen when I was in Oklahoma and from the games that aired on ESPN, was absolutely top-form. She had the kind of energy that lasted a full match and still had some left in the tank after, which was perfect for camp.
I just don’t think I had been prepared for exactly how much energy that entailed. Eight a.m., and she was already moving a mile a minute. It’s now three p.m., close to pick-up, and she’s still going, not to mention the fan favourite of at least half our kids, probably more. Considering she’s never coached kids before, that has to go down in history. I think I’m still suffering from shock. In the words of May, who had been inconveniently tight-lipped about why Jordan was in Whittaker when I’d asked her, ‘Jordan does that to you.’
Well. Surprise!
Benny tweets his whistle, three sharp sounds that signal pick-up time. The moms have already lined up along the curb in the parking lot in SUVs, vans, and pickups. ‘Alright, single file by the fence, campers!’
Thirty sets of kid-sized feet thunder through the grass as our gremlins fling themselves at the fence, grabbing backpacks, duffel bags and crosses, caught up in conversation and what I recognize as a couple of dreaded brain-rot jokes.
Beside me, Jordan blows a curl of hair from her forehead, beaming nevertheless. ‘So they’re definitely out to get us.’
I let out a laugh, although I’m still dissociating slightly, trying to parse through everything that’s been the past seven hours. ‘Every day. We’re lucky it’s only three times a week.’
‘I second that.’ She grins and waves at Bella as she and two of her friends head over to her mom to get their ride.
‘You’re freakishly good at this, though,’ I finally tell her. Hell, I’m not at all sure what to make of her just yet, but it’s obvious she has a knack for working with kids.
‘That’s real nice of you.’ Once the kids clear out, she wanders over to the bleachers with her backpack, and I follow her over with my stuff. We take seats and lace out of our field cleats side by side, Jordan’s floaty, naturally twangy voice serving as the soundtrack. ‘I was gonna say the same about you. The way you had them hanging onto your every word within the first minute of camp? I only wish.’
‘You’ll get there eventually. Having …’
She lifts the hem of her T-shirt to wipe the sweat from her face, and I’m staring now. I’m definitely staring. The glitter of a diamond navel piercing catches my eye first, and then toned, tan abs. Brother. Get ahold of yourself.
My head snaps right up once I realize what I’m doing.
Jordan looks at me expectantly. ‘Having?’
What the hell had I even been saying? It suddenly doesn’t matter. I’m amending my previous statement. I think it’s becoming pretty clear exactly what I make of Jordan Gutierrez-Hawkins. She tucks a strand of hair into her ponytail, and the single silver ring on her index finger clicks against studs and hoops in her ear. ‘Um. Ha-having a kid,’ I pick right back up. ‘It helps figuring out how … how to deal with the campers.’
‘Case in point.’ She raises a hand. ‘You have the dang thing down is all. That is a talent … oh, hey! Do we have guests?’
I follow Jordan’s line of sight back to the field gate. Genny is heading our way, Tali’s hand in hers. The younger of my twoolder sisters has always come in clutch but, I have to admit, her timing is screwed up on this one. Send help.
Jordan just grins her spritely grin and waves happily. I try my best to convey my desperate desire to be saved from my hot mess through a pained expression, but Genny chooses to ignore it, instead returning Jordan’s enthusiastic gesture with a curious smile of her own.
‘I know you!’ pipes up Tali unhelpfully. Her big calf-brown eyes widen.
Well, great.
I paste happy all over my face and beam down at my daughter. ‘Tal! And Genny.’ I meet my sister’s eyes with my wide ones. ‘What brings you guys here?’
‘Rebecca told me there’s a new lacrosse celebrity in town staying at her place?’ Genny shifts her attention towards a sunny Jordan, and Tali follows suit.
‘Jordan.’ Jordan extends a hand, and my sister just laughs.
‘We’re huggers in this family. Can I give you a hug, Jordan?’ Genny asks. Jordan, of course, nods cheerily, and they embrace like old pals. Genny’s going to love her. As much as I’m known on the New Haven Woodchucks, my pro lacrosse team, as the eternal optimist, I like to think I take the middle ground when it comes to enthusiasm. Genevieve Wilson, on the other hand, is a ball of energy waiting to explode.
‘I’m Genevieve. This fool’s sister, one of two,’ Genny tells Jordan, adjusting her thick white headband. Genny has Ma’s auburn hair, and she wears it up in the same claw clip as usual, paired with what I recognize as her work coveralls, short-sleeved denim, and her worn boots.
‘It’s great to meet you.’ Jordan smiles, then crouches downto Tali next. Tali’s never been timid, usually eager to meet new people, and Jordan’s magnetism works extra wonders with her just as it did with our campers. ‘You, too! But you’re right. I think I know you. Tali?’
