Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Coach chuckles and pulls up the Rampage T-shirt he’s wearing to show us his ripped abs. “This grandpa is doing just fine,” he boasts. “Speaking of, when do I get to watch my granddaughter again? Are you not spoiling my daughter well enough that you’ve stopped taking her out on dates?”
“Oh, I’m spoiling her,” Reid says with a gleam in his eye. “My wife doesn’t like to leave our daughter, but I’ll set something up for after camp. Be ready for my call, old man,” Reid teases.
Coach points at him. “I’m holding you to that, as your father-in-law.” He eyes the box of donuts. “As your coach, finish that shit off before the rest of the team shows up,” he says, grabbing a second donut and walking back to his office.
The five of us quickly polish off the donuts, even Knox indulges, and we hide the evidence at the bottom of the trash can. Today’s the first day of training camp, and while it’s a long one, it’s not strenuous. Those who are newer to the team—meaning the rookies, a few of the less-seasoned players, and even some of us who’ve been doing this for a while now—stay. Room assignments are given, health checkups, a team meeting going over the playbook, this year’s goals, and finally, a walk-through practice. We won’t be in full pads just yet. It’s a quick walk-through, a few sprints, etc., to get our bodies back in the groove. But don’t let the first day fool you. Coach and his team of drill sergeants will be kicking our asses on that field in no time, and we’re all going to regret those donuts and being lax in the off-season.
The guys and I stay fit, but we do cheat. The first couple of weeks back are always tough to get into the swing of things, especially with the service for Natasha hanging over my head.
It’s going to be tough, but we’ll get through it. I’m so damn thankful for Sloane and all of her help. If I had to find a nanny on top of all of this, I’m sure I’d be at my breaking point.
It’s finally lunch, so after scarfing down my food, I head back to the locker room to grab my phone and text Sloane.
* * *
Me: How’s it going?
* * *
Sloane: We’re having a good day. We spent some time at the park this morning before it got too hot. We just had lunch, and he’s down for his nap.
* * *
I’m typing back a reply when a slew of pictures comes through. Cam on the slides, on the kiddie swings, a couple of selfies, and him with SpaghettiOs all over him. Looks like he wore more of his lunch than he actually ate. I’m smiling because so is my son, and it’s such a relief to know the nanny situation is tabled for now.
* * *
Sloane: He’s such a ham. He had green beans and applesauce for lunch, too, but didn’t eat them as well as his SpaghettiOs.
* * *
Me: He’s a messy eater for sure.
* * *
Sloane: He’s learning.
* * *
She sends a picture of Camden sleeping in his new big-boy bed.
* * *
Me: Thank you, Sloane. I’ll be home, but it will be later. Today’s a long one.
* * *
Sloane: We’re fine here. I told you that if you needed to stay, we’d be fine. Whatever you need, Baker.
* * *
Me: Thank you.
* * *
I don’t know what else to say. It’s not that I don’t trust her—I do—but I just need to be home with him. He has no idea what’s happened, and he hasn’t asked for his mom, but he will, right? One day, he’s going to ask, and we’re going to have to relive this nightmare, and I hate that for him. So, yeah, I trust her, but I need to be there for him, whether he knows what’s going on or not. I need him. He doesn’t need me.
“Hey,” Knox says, stepping into the locker room. “Afternoon meeting’s about to start.”
“I’ll be right there.” I fire off another text to Sloane.
* * *
Me: Headed into the afternoon meeting. Be home late.
* * *
Tossing my phone back into my locker, I grab my binder and head to the meeting room. The meeting drags, but it’s more about me than the coaching staff, their motivational speeches, and the playbook. I try to focus, but my head is too jumbled. Thankfully, after this meeting, we’re just doing a walk-through. The last thing I need is my ass to get laid out on the field because I can’t get my damn head in the game.
It’s just after seven when I pull into the garage. I’m exhausted, but I’m ready to see my boy. Climbing out of my SUV, I make my way into the house. I’m instantly greeted with my son’s giggles, and a smile pulls at my lips.