I walk into the diner for my morning cup of coffee, and she is the first thing I see. That beautiful smile lights up my morning like the sun rising on the horizon. Every morning I see her, and every morning I tell myself to ask her out. Yet I don’t, despite the fact she’s all I’ve thought about since practice. “Good morning, sugar.” I nod. “Can I get my usual?”
“Good morning, Trystan.” She hands me my coffee just the way I like it.
I thank her and start toward the door, but then stop. Leaning over the counter I lower my voice and ask her. “Hey, when you gonna let me take you to dinner?” I say with a smile.
Stella chuckles. “When you gonna ask?” she replies with her typical sass.
I shake my head with a chuckle and continue out the door. I can’t ask her in front of all those people. If she rejects me it would not only be embarrassing, but we’ll become the talk of the town.
When I pull up to the work site I find not only my boss, Rick, there but the rest of the crew as well. We're working on a new home at the far end of town which is why I was a few minutes late to practice yesterday. This town may not be big but the speed limits are low, and it still takes time to get from one end to the other.
I jump down from my truck, and as soon as I do the guys are like cats ready to pounce. "How was practice, Coach?" Billy stresses the word coach, and it makes me want to throat punch him.
I got my balls busted all day yesterday because they heard me telling Rick that I had to coach little league as community service for my DUI. "Fuck you, Billy. At least I'm doing something productive with my time outside of work. You keep chilling at Slade's Bar, you're going to be next." He shuts his mouth and walks off grumbling under his breath. He drinks far more than I do and then drives home. Not to mention he's starting to sport a beer belly that's getting bigger every day. I start to follow behind him. "That's right, you walk away and go build that wall you're working on." He looks over his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at me. He knows I mean the mental wall he has built not the physical one he's about to install on this house. I cross my arms and wait for a response that never comes. He drives drunk all the time, and Rick is constantly getting on him for it. He's a lonely man who lost his family in a fire and has never been able to get past it. It happened years ago, and at first, we took it easy on him. It was a devastating loss. Rick, Jack, and I recently had a discussion about his drinking and realized that we needed to stop babying him and give him some tough love instead.
"All right, it's time to get to work," Rick shouts, stepping between us.
"Billy, you and Jack work on putting up the walls on the backside of the house. Trystan and I are going to work on installing these last few windows."
The two guys head inside, and Rick and I walk over to unwrap the last of the windows that were delivered. "How did it really go yesterday?"
I shrug. "It was fine. I felt bad that I was late to practice, but it is what it is. I had a talk with the boys, got them going on some batting practice, and then wrapped up a few minutes early to talk with the parents. I wish I had an assistant coach. I’m going to send out an email asking if anyone would like to help." He nods but says nothing about the fact Billy used to play on my team when we were kids. We carry the window over to where it’s being installed. "We have some work to do." I stop to run into the house so he doesn't push the window all the way through. Holding it in place, he secures it and I insulate it with some caulking.
When I get back outside to grab the next window he says, "How so?" He knows I’m referring to the team, not the house.
"Well, some of them are trying to be show-offs instead of working as a team. Of course, the worst of them is Judge Mackey’s grandson, Ethan.” I shake my head. “The kid swears like a drunken sailor and has one hell of an attitude.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
I shrug. “I asked for volunteers and they all looked at me like I had ten fucking heads. Finally, two boys stepped up, and I made the rest of them run laps around the field while we got equipment, but that was only the beginning." A smile spreads across my face.
"What?"
"I just got a brilliant idea. How do you feel about donating some time to help me get them working together?"
He shrugs. "You know me. I don't do much on the weekend, so why not. What are you thinking?"
"The storage shed at the park is a mess, they need a new one. I'll get the team to do a fundraiser, and we'll make the boys help us build it."
He smiles. "I like it."
We fist bump and then go back to work. We're a small crew, but we work well together. Despite the fact we like to bust each other’s balls, we work hard and are good friends.
It's finally lunchtime, and as usual, the four of us take a seat under a tree in the shade to eat what we've all packed. "Hey, guys, Trystan needs some volunteers to work with the boys on a team building activity that requires actual building. I've already told him I'm in. How about it? You guys interested in volunteering some time?"
They both agree, and Rick fills them in on what we need to build. We spend the remainder of our lunch break discussing fundraising ideas. We've come up with a few, now I just have to get the parents to agree.
We've worked hard all day, and I'm exhausted. I need to go home to make something to eat for dinner and make my lunch for tomorrow, on top of emailing all the parents about the fundraising ideas. The first thing I do when I walk in the door is open my laptop to type up the email. I want to get this out as soon as possible.
Dear Team Parents,
You may have noticed at practice last night our boys are not working as a team as well as I would like. With the help of some friends, we came up with a great team building activity that will not only help them come together, but will also benefit our town. We clearly need a new shed to house our equipment, and I've gotten Gonzalez Construction to donate their time to work with the boys on the building of a new one. This will give us a shed, teach the boys a new skill, and hopefully get them to work as a team. I’ll be reaching out to the town to get the permit for the build in the morning.
Part of this team building exercise will include the boys working to raise the money for the shed. That said, I am looking for one or two parents to volunteer to help me with organizing the fundraisers we need to put together. We have come up with two ideas so far. The first is setting up outside the grocery store with change buckets and plainly asking for money. The second is a car wash outside the bank or another parking lot in town. I am open to other ideas as well. Please let me know if you're interested in helping us raise the money to get this done.
Also, I am in need of at least one assistant coach. Two would be better. If anyone is available to help, please let me know. The coaches will need to be at as many practices as possible and at games to help with coaching first and third base.
Thanks,
Coach Trystan
P.S. I will see everyone at practice on Tuesday at six p.m.
Happy with my email, I close the top of my laptop, grab a beer from the fridge, and get to work grilling some chicken with peppers and onions for dinner.
I'm about to sit down to eat when my phone pings. Checking it, I see I have some responses to my email. The first one is from Stella, and it makes me smile. She is willing to help with setting up the fundraisers, and she thinks it's a brilliant idea. The second one is from Ethan's mom. She's a lawyer here in town, and the email states she has no time to help with fundraisers, but will donate $100 to our cause. It's no wonder her son behaves the way he does. She clearly needs to make time for him. I get being a lawyer is tough work, but really he's probably just looking for attention because he doesn't get enough at home.
A few more responses come in as I'm finishing up my dinner. Lori, Josh's mom, as well as Stacey, Ryan's mom, have all agreed to work with Stella on the fundraisers. Feeling good about my progress, I get busy making my lunch for tomorrow so I can work out before I have to shower and head to bed.
I'm about to go to my spare room to work out when my cell phone rings. "Hello?"
"Trystan, it's Judge Mackey."
"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?" I have a smile on my face because I have no doubt he's calling me about the shed.
"It's what I can do for you. I'm calling to let you know that I think your shed idea is brilliant and that I will have the permit pulled for you."
"Why, thank you, sir. I appreciate that."
"No, thank you. You are taking this seriously, and I appreciate that."
"Sir, the night I got behind the wheel after drinking was a first for me. It's not something I make a habit of doing, and I never planned to. In hindsight, I should have called a cab and went back for my car the next day. I get that and appreciate you not throwing me in jail on a first offense."
"Good, because the point of doing this was to make sure it never happened again. You're a good guy, Trystan, and I hate to see good guys ruin their lives over stupid mistakes like driving drunk."
"Thank you, sir," is all I can manage. All my life I had to work hard to stay out of trouble because my mom was always so busy working and was never around. I had to get rides with friends to games and walk myself to practice in town because most of the time she wasn't there, but I never pulled what Ethan pulls. Yet, I look at him and see myself as well as in Landon. Seeing them suddenly gives me this need to lead them down the right path.
"You're welcome, continue to do good with these boys. They need you." His voice is laced with sorrow. I know in that moment he's referring to his grandson, and I get it. I need to find out more about this kid and his situation if I’m really going to be able to help him.
"I’ll do my best." I cut the call and start to think about how to get through to Ethan. I need him to realize that the way to get her attention is through hard work and dedication to doing good, not misbehaving, and I know it won't be easy. As a kid, all I ever wanted to do was make my mom proud. She worked hard to provide for me and the way I saw it, I needed to earn the things she was giving me—not take them for granted. He needs to learn the same thing. This kid has the most expensive cleats, bat, and helmet money can buy, and I am willing to bet he has no idea what it is to earn the things he has. He just assumes because his parent have money they should be handed over to him.