“Far as I know.” He turns the glass a quarter turn on the bar. “Amelie hears from her more than I do.”
“How does that go?”
Nick let’s out an exaggerated sigh. “I want to interrupt or listen in, but don’t. Each time Amelie gets off the phone, she cries for an hour. Mack only talks to Aubrey for a minute, and then Aubrey whines to Amelie about how much she misses them and how Mack isn’t paying attention to her. Amelie knowsAubrey’s new husband is bad news, but she still wants to be with her mom. Talisa tries to comfort her. Nothing works. It takes a week for Amelie to be herself again, and then boom, Aubrey’s on the phone.”
“Shit.”
He nods and takes a long pull.
“When did Aubrey get married?”
“That’s the thing, she hasn’t told the kids she did. I only know because my health insurance sent a notice, asking if I was still covering her and her last name is different.”
“Shit,” I say again.” “They’re lucky to have you.”
Nick snorts into his beer. “They’re lucky to have Talisa, Elle, Josie,” he says. “Anyone but me. I pay the bills, set the rules, and I am the bad guy.”
I set a menu down in front of him. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
Nick says nothing. I leave him there and tend to the others at the bar, and I make sure the staff in back has everything they need. I do whatever I can to keep busy because I don’t want to be that person for Nick—the one he leans on. He had that kind of relationship with Mason, which is another reason I’m mad at Nick (and myself). I’m not there though and I doubt I ever will be.
“Mack made the list for the recruiting camp at State,” Nick says as I walk by. His voice full of pride. He should be proud. Mack’s an outstanding athlete and great kid. I’ll never forget the time when he was living with us and needed to talk to me about asking someone out. Little did I know, I was giving the kid advice on how to ask Paige out.
I don’t regret letting him come live with us. It was the right thing to do. Nick was there for Noah, raising my boy because I was off playing rock star. There was no way I’d let Noah down by not opening the door for Mack. They’re close, like brothers.
“Which State we talking about?”
The grin on Nick’s face tells all.
“Shit, really?”
He nods. “Penn, Ohio, Florida, Louisiana.”
“Wow. What kind of film did he send it?”
“The kind a former NFL quarterback can make.”
Now I’m the one smiling. Of course, Noah made Mack’s recruiting films.
“He earned it. Mack’s got an arm.”
“He’s got a real shot,” Nick says. “Better than I ever was. Better than—” He stops himself.
“Better than—?” I raise an eyebrow and silently dare him to say Mack’s better than me. He is, of course, but I like to point out to Nick that I was better than him, in everything we did. Granted, Nick did pitch a stellar game, and we won a title in baseball. Still, I was the standout back in our day.
Nick watches me for a minute, his eyes moving back and forth, and I imagine he’s wondering what I’m implying.
“I—”
I laugh, breaking the tension. “He’s better than Noah. You can say it. Noah’d say it himself. You’ve coached both of them, you should know better than anyone.”
Nick looks relieved. He takes a sip of beer and then says, “Noah was a different kind of player. He was a student of the game. He knew where everybody was going to be before they did. Mack’s got the arm, but if the receivers or backs break the play, Mack isn’t processing it fast enough to make a change.”
“You’re his coach, talk to him. Hell, ask Peyton to break down film with him. You and I both know it’s the best way to learn.”
“Coach?” Nick scoffs. “As soon as I brought Noah on staff, I became the volunteer who runs conditioning and keeps the boosters smiling. Noah’s the one in his ear.” He says it flat, noself-pity in it. Just the depth chart of his own kid’s life, laid out for the one man who’d know what it cost him to say.
“You want another?”
