Spencer
Ex-husband. Ex-husband. That word had been rattling around in my head ever since she said it. I’d suspected the guy was her ex. The way he’d looked at her and Chris told me he wasn’t just a casual acquaintance.
I wanted to ask her what he said, but Chris came back to the table before I could, and I had to sit through dinner, making small talk, trying to answer all of Chris’s questions while my stomach was tied up in knots.
I could tell my girl was edgy. She didn’t hide it well. Her eyes kept darting to the window, like she expected him to come back.
When I dropped them off at home, Chris was the one to invite me in. I accepted the offer, not waiting for her to make excuses. We needed to talk this shit out. I wanted to know what that guy said to get her so rattled. Did he want her back? Did he realize that letting her go was the biggest mistake he’d ever made? If so, that bastard was in for the fight of his life because I wasn’t letting her go.
Chris was chatting excitedly, racing down the hall of their small bungalow to show me his room, while his mom held back, looking like she was about to crawl out of her skin.
He showed me all of the soccer memorabilia he’d collected as gifts for every occasion since he was four. This kid wasn’t exaggerating—he was a serious fan.
My gaze strayed to the poster of myself hanging above his double bed. I was in my gear, one foot resting on a soccer ball with my arms folded. I looked like a badass player… my glory days. Most days I didn’t miss the rigors of being a pro, but there were times when I was feeling out of sorts, like today, that I missed have that solitary mission. To win.
“You want me to sign that?” I asked, gesturing to the poster.
“Yeah, sure, that’d be great! Thanks, Spencer.”
My heart twisted at the affection I was already developing for this kid. He was grateful for everything little thing someone did for him and never took anything for granted. I loved that about him.
As he handed over a fine-tipped black marker, I thought about what I could say that would accurately convey what I was feeling. In the end, I opted for, “I see something special in you, Chris. Don’t ever lose that spark. Spencer MacKay.” I added my old number, twelve, the number they’d retired when I did.
He smiled at the message, cocking his head to one side. “You really see something special in me… as a soccer player?”
I’d meant what I told him before, it was a little too soon to tell whether he would go the distance in soccer, but I wanted him to know there were more important achievements in life than excelling in sports.
I sat down on the edge of his bed, facing him. This was important, and I wanted to get it right. “I see something special in you as a person, Chris.” I smiled. “The fact that you’re a good soccer player is just a bonus.”
I could tell he was embarrassed and humbled by my praise. I had to keep reminding myself this kid felt he’d known me long before I knew him. I saw books that had been written about me lining his shelves, a model of me sitting on his nightstand. I wasn’t the only player he idolized, which was obvious from his collection, but I sure as hell was honored to be counted among his favorites.
“My old man gave me a piece of advice when I was just about your age,” I said, watching him to make sure he was grasping my message. “It came after I didn’t make this team that I’d tried out for—”
“You didn’t make a team?” he asked, jaw dropping. “Seriously? How is that even possible?”
I laughed. “There were a few teams I didn’t make, buddy. But I never let it get me down. It meant I had to work harder, to get better, for tryouts the next year.” He nodded like he got it. “My dad told me whether or not I made it big someday, people would eventually forget the kind of player I’d been, but they’d never forget the kind of man I’d been.”
He smiled, shaking his head slowly. “Is that why you do all that charity stuff, to make your dad proud?”
I chuckled. “No, I do it because it makes me feel good. Same reason I decided to start the academy. I’d had a lot of good coaches along the way who’d made a big impact on me. I wanted to be someone who made an impact on the kids in my academy.”
“How come you never coached a pro team?”
I’d been asked that question plenty of times over the years. “I figured I could have a bigger impact working with kids.” I loved to win as much as the next guy, but I’d finally reached a point in my life when I knew there were more important things than winning. Like your legacy. That’s what I was trying to build now, a legacy. I was trying to touch as many lives as I could so the kids I worked with wouldn’t just become better soccer players because of their association with me but better people.
“I know how lucky I am that kids like you look up to me, Chris. And I don’t want to waste that gift. If I’ve gained your respect because you recognize that I’m a good player because I worked my ass off—” I smiled when he laughed at my choice of words. “Don’t tell your mom I said that, okay?”
He slid his fingers across his lips and pretended he was tossing a key away.
“I want my players to see that it takes hard work. If you want to be a great player, you have to be willing to work harder than the players who are content to be good. But it’s more than that. When you’re working hard to be great, you’re developing the kind of character and work ethic you’d never have if you settled for good enough.” I didn’t know if this conversation was too deep for a boy his age, but I hoped he’d take something away from it because I knew it was an important life lesson. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” He grinned, making him look much younger than his pensive expression had. “Thanks, Spencer.”
“For what?”
“Taking the time to talk to me like this.” He shrugged. “Ever since my grandpa died, I haven’t really had a guy to talk to like this, so it’s cool. You know, to have you.”
Those words pierced my heart, but I couldn’t let it show. I had to try and keep it light. Even though I wanted to promise him I’d always be there to give him advice, I couldn’t until his mom filled me in on what had happened with Chris’s dad tonight.
“Well, you do have me. No matter what happens with me and your mom, I’d like us to be friends.”
His smile slipped. “Does that mean you don’t think things will work out with you and my mom?”
“I’d like them to, but no one can predict the future, Chris. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Do you love her?”
Jesus, this kid went straight for the jugular. “She’s very important to me.” Telling him I loved her would only give him false hope, and I couldn’t do that to him. He’d already suffered enough loss in his life, and I wouldn’t add to it.
“That’s not answering my question.”
I laughed as I stood up. “But that’s all you’re gonna get outta me tonight, man.”
“Thanks for dinner,” Chris said as I made my way to his bedroom door.
“My pleasure.” I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. “I hope there’ll be a lot more of that… all of us just hanging out like that.”
“Like a real family.”
Shit. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah, like a real family.” I looked over my shoulder. “You gonna come out and hang with us?”
“Nah, Mom lets me play video games for an hour after dinner,” he said, pointing at a small flat-screen TV in the corner of the room. “My nan got me FIFA 17. You wanna play?”
“Maybe later,” I said, grinning. “I’m not a gamer, so you’d probably kick my as—” I laughed when his eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’d probably kick my butt.”
“I’d like that,” he said, sitting at the end of his bed as he reached for the remote. “Anytime you wanna have your ass handed to you,” he said, whispering the forbidden word. “Come back and see me.”
I tried to keep a straight face as I pointed at him. “Okay, we’re even now. I won’t tell your mom you swore if you won’t tell her I did. But we gotta keep it clean from now on, deal?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sure, Spence, whatever you say.”
***