Page 37 of Her Coach

“Good.” Another pause. “Anyone interesting?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Colton.”

“I’m handling it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s not a yes either. Drop it Dave.”

He dropped it. Fifteen years and Dave had gotten very good at knowing when to let something go. We went through the contract stuff, the lease, two sponsorship approvals that needed my signature, a media request from a sports outlet in New York that I declined without thinking about it, and by the time we hung up it was almost two.

I went back to the film.

Thirty minutes later there was a knock on my door frame.

Rhett. Arms folded, shoulder against the frame, the particular expression he got when he was going to say something and had already decided he was going to say it regardless of how I responded.

“What,” I said.

“Nothing.” He didn’t move. “Just checking in.”

“You don’t check in.”

“First time for everything.” He looked around my office. At the film paused on my laptop, the clipboard on the desk, the coffee I’d let go cold three hours ago. “You eat today?”

“I had the break room lunch.”

Something moved across his face. He pressed his lips together in a way that told me he knew something about the break room lunch that I didn’t know he knew.

“What,” I said again.

“Nothing.” He pushed off the frame. “Frank looked good today.”

“He’s got good instincts.”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “He does.” Then, like it was an afterthought: “She noticed that, you know. The Frank thing. Wednesday.”

I looked at him.

He looked back with that face of his that said a lot more than whatever words he was using. “Bry. She was in the stands.” A beat. “She’s got a good eye. Her dad did too.”

I turned my pen over again. “Is there something you want to say, Rhett?”

He thought about it for a second. “No,” he said. “I think you’ve got it figured out.” He pushed off the frame. “Don’t let that coffee sit any longer, Coach. It’s embarrassing.”

He left.

I poured the cold coffee out. Made a fresh cup.

Thought about what he’d said. Not the words, the thing underneath the words, which was that Rhett Calloway had been checking in on Victoria Caldwell every single morning for what I was starting to understand was a very long time, and he did it because Brynn asked him to, and he did it without being asked twice, which told me everything I needed to know about what kind of person she was and what kind of loyalty she inspired in people who paid attention.

I went back to the film.

Friday I had Frank on the ice at eleven like I’d promised. Forty minutes, same as Wednesday. He was getting it. Another week and it would be muscle memory.

I came off the ice at twelve and headed down the hallway.