Page 121 of The Sweetest Return

“My mistake.”

“Thank you.”

I caught myself smiling.

Coach caught me too.

“Same damn look.”

“What look?” Imani asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

Coach laughed.

He let me suffer about two seconds before his face turned serious.

“Come see me before you leave.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“I heard you.”

“I don’t think you did.” He looked toward the field. “You still see this game faster than most people. Always did once you stopped believing speed could fix everything.”

Imani made a small sound beside me.

I ignored her.

“The Forge ain’t been the same without you,” he continued.

That found somewhere tender.

“They got talent.”

“Talent ain’t the issue. That running back room has legs. What they need is eyes. Patience. Somebody who knows how to teach what you learned the hard way.”

I looked toward the field.

“You ever think about coaching?”

I laughed because that was easier than answering.

“You trying to ruin my weekend?”

“I’m trying to help you find your next field.”

He said it plainly and let it stay there.

Old coaches knew how to plant something without digging it back up to see if it took.

Imani’s hand stayed in mine.

No pity. No speech.

Just her.