Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
And finally, I press it.
One ring. Two rings, then his voice. “Foster, my boy, how are you?” Coach Pruitt answers.
I clear my throat. “Good, sir,” I answer.
“Nathan.” He chuckles. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Nathan, or Coach, I guess, but sir makes me feel old.”
I smile, even though he can’t see me, because he’s told me this very thing for years, and I still insisted on calling him sir. I was too blind to see, or maybe just too fearful to take his acceptance.
“Nathan,” I say, my voice gruff.
“I’ve been watching the preseason games. The Rampage is looking good,” he says.
“Yeah, the team is tight. We’re hoping for another record season,” I answer, feeling my shoulders relax. This is comfortable, what I know, because it’s the same conversation every time I call. This time, I need to make it different.
“I have no doubt,” he tells me. “Hold on a second. Hope, it’s Foster on the line. Do you want to come say hi?” he asks. I hear a shriek in the background, and then Nathan’s laugh. “I’m going to put you on speaker phone,” he tells me, and I hear shuffling, then Hope’s voice.
“Foster, it’s been too long,” Hope tells me with affection.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Hope,” she corrects gently, and I curse myself inwardly.
I can see it now. I can even feel it through the tone of their voices: the affection they have for me. The affection I’ve been ignoring for all these years. The guilt is heavy, but there’s time to make it right. To bring them back into my life, in any capacity they wish. If they turn me away, which deep down, I know they won’t, that’s okay. I’ll still have Eden, and she’s everything I need. However, there’s a piece of me, a bigger piece than I thought possible, that really wants them to be there, too.
“Hey, I know this is short notice, but next week is the first official home game of the season, which is also the first regular season game for us. I was wondering if you all wanted to come?”
They’re in Cincinnati, so it’s not a far drive, and even shorter flight.
“Yes!” Hope cheers. “Will we get to see you while we’re there?”
Fuck, that question cuts deep. “Y-Yeah, actually, I was hoping you could come a few days early. We could catch up.”
“Foster?” Nathan asks. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is good. Better than good, actually, or it will be.”
“Let me see if I can get a reservation,” Hope says. “I’ll look as soon as we get off this call.”
“Actually, why don’t you all just stay with me?” Silence greets me on the other line, but I know the call is still connected. “I mean, only if you want to.”
“We’d love to, Foster,” Hope replies softly, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. “When?”
“The game is Sunday, so I thought a few days earlier. Wednesday or Thursday? I’ll have practice, but I could have one of the guys pick me up, and you could keep my car and enjoy the city while you’re here.”
“We can get a rental,” Nathan tells me.
“Really, it’s not a problem,” I tell them.
“I’ve got some vacation days I need to use. I’m sure I can find a sub,” Hope says. “I’m aiming for Wednesday. A few days to catch up with you sounds wonderful,” she gushes.
“As soon as you know, I’ll book your flights.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Nathan says.
“I want to.”
“Book them,” Hope tells me. “We’re coming on Wednesday, and we’ll leave Monday if that’s all right with you?”
“Are you sure you can get the time off?”
“I’m sure,” she says, sounding confident.
“Coach?”
He chuckles. “You know I have one hell of a coaching staff. I can miss a game.”
“I hate for you to do that,” I tell him. Usually, they visit later in the year after his high school season has ended.
“We’ll be there, Foster.”
Emotion builds in the back of my throat, but I swallow it down. “Okay. I’ll see you next week.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Hope says.
We talk for a few more minutes before we end the call, just as Eden comes home.
“You’re smiling. That’s a good sign,” she says, kicking off her shoes and coming to sit next to me on the couch.
Before her ass hits the cushion, I reach out and tug her onto my lap, burying my face in her neck and wrapping my arms around her. “Yeah, baby, I’m smiling.”
“I take it everything went okay?” she asks, turning and resting her head on my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I tell her, because forming more words than that just isn’t possible at the moment. Instead, I hold her, and in turn, she clings to me. Even if the Pruitts had shot me down, it still would have been okay because of the woman in my arms.