Comeback: Chapter 40
The following weeks we’re hit with cross-country away games that make it feel like I’m gone more than at home. We return from New York on Monday morning, twelve hours later than scheduled due to some plane mechanical issues.
I am beat and anxious to see my girl, but first I have to get treatment, attend a position meeting, and get in my typical Monday conditioning workout.
“I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed,” Brogan says, groaning as he stretches.
When we reach the tarmac, I raise my face to the Arizona sky and breathe in home. There’s a nip in the air, but the sun is shining. I’ve already stripped out of the extra layers I wore to stay warm in the chilly East Coast temps. It snowed during the game, which I always think is kind of fun. Cold but fun.
We drive straight from the airport to the stadium. Coach is standing just inside the building. He’s already in his usual practice tracksuit and has coffee in one hand looking a lot more ready to go than the rest of us.
“Holland.” He holds up a hand and smiles as we approach. “Six.”
“Morning, Coach,” Brogan and I say in unison.
“Archer, can you stop by my office after treatment this morning?”
My steps slow as I process his words, and a sinking sensation takes hold of my stomach.
“Yeah. Is everything okay?”
“Nothing to worry about,” he says, like that isn’t exactly what I’ll do for the rest of the morning.
I manage to keep walking, but a million “what if” scenarios pummel me as I head down the hallway to the locker room.
They’re not going to trade you, Brogan signs.
“You can’t know that.”
When he’s fired up, like right now, his signing gets faster and more animated. Your numbers the past month are stronger than almost anyone else in the league.
I have been playing well. The best I ever have, but I’ve been around long enough to know that sometimes cuts are made, not based on individual performance, but for the betterment of the team. I’d like to think I’m what’s best for the Mavericks when it comes to my position, but at the end of the day, that’s not my call.
We have to go our separate ways for treatment, but before he leaves, Brogan squeezes my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”
I nod once and swallow down the lump forming in my throat.
My anxiety doesn’t get any better when I see Graham laughing and carrying on like it’s any other day. Since I stopped letting him get under my skin, he’s backed off. He still talks shit any chance he gets, but he isn’t seeking me out like before. And he hasn’t shown up to the studio again. The sale of the building is still moving forward, but I’m not as worried. I know his schedule, and if I have to stand guard at the door of the studio every day, I will.
If I’m still here. Fuck. A new team, a new city, new teammates. No Brogan or Sabrina. I’ll even miss London. Watching her give Brogan a run for his money and seeing the way she adores him. I couldn’t have asked for someone better suited for him. My gut twists at the thought of leaving this life. I’ve always known it was a possibility, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
By the time I walk into Coach’s office, I’ve worked myself into knots. His door is cracked open. I knock and peer inside.
He looks up, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
“Come in.” He stands and waves me in. “Shut the door behind you.”
My fingers tremble with nervous energy as I do as instructed and then take a seat in front of his desk.
He sits back in his chair, elbows propped on the arms. “I guess I’ll just cut to the chase since I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to stop by.”
He gives me a wobbly smile that I do my best to return. I rake my sweaty palms down my thighs.
“We are making some changes, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
I haven’t cried since my mom died but damn if emotion doesn’t clog my throat and burn the backs of my eyes.
“I’ve always respected you, Holland. You show up every day, you work hard, and you don’t complain. And you probably have more of a right to than anyone else. We’ve made some tweaks to accommodate you, but I’m aware it’s not always enough.”
“It’s not a problem,” I say in a rush. “I mean, I don’t need you to make accommodations or treat me any differently.”
Even as I speak the words, I know they aren’t exactly true. I’ve never let my hearing be an obstacle in pursuing the things I want, but there are things that just aren’t as easy for me. I’ve done my best to not be an imposition. I’m always watching, always aware, always trying to make up for not being able to hear the coaches or the quarterback.
His brows pinch together, and he removes his glasses. “What is it you think is happening here, son?”
“I assume you’re trading me,” I say as he stares back at me. Or cutting me. Fuck. Is he going to buy out my contract and cut me loose?
He lets out a laugh that shakes his entire body. “No.”
“No?” I study his face for any hint of what he’s thinking. I hold off on feeling relieved because maybe there’s something else I haven’t considered that will suck only slightly less than being cut.
“We’ve hired an interpreter,” he says.
Silence hangs around us as I process. Only I’m not making sense of any of it.
“For what?”
“For you.” He laughs again.
“Oh,” I say dumbly. Ooooh. I sit forward. “That really isn’t necessary. You and the other coaches have been great, and Cody and I have worked out a system. I’m good.”
I don’t want to make a big deal out of needing special treatment. I’ve always hated that. And I don’t need it. I’ve figured out how to exist in this sport and on this team without a lot of hassle or fuss. And beyond that, I have Brogan who I know is always looking out for me. That’s enough for me.
He holds up a hand to silence any further objections. “We should have done it the moment we signed you. I’m sorry for that.”
I open my mouth to speak, but I’m not sure what to say.
“His name is Max and he will work around your schedule, attend your meetings and practices, and be on the sideline at every game for you. Basically, if you’re working, then so is he.”
My worry has turned into an unsettling feeling at the team going to such lengths for me. “I appreciate all this. Really, I do, but I don’t want—”
He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Beyond it just being the right thing to do here, we all want to give you the best chance for success because that is only going to make our team stronger. You are a hell of a player already. Let us make it easier for you to focus on all your talent and hard work. When you’re working, I want you to only think about football. Nothing else. My hope is that this will allow you to do that.”
I’m officially out of protests and a whole lot dumbstruck. This is the last thing I was expecting. I manage to find my voice.
“Thank you, Coach.”
He nods and stands, so I do the same.
“We are going to be making some changes to the receivers. I guess it won’t be secret for long, so I can tell you we made a trade with Washington. We’re moving Graham for Hunter.”
Lonnie Hunter is one of the best cornerbacks in the league. I fucking hate going up against him, so I’m grateful for him being on my side alone. But Graham gone?
“That’s…” I can’t lie and say terrible because him leaving makes my life easier, but it doesn’t feel good either. No matter how much I hate the guy, I can’t bring myself to celebrate his struggle.
“Roster changes are always hard. All we can do is worry about the next game.”
“Yes, sir.”
His mouth lifts into a smile. “Max will be here tomorrow. Swing by my office when you get in and I’ll make the introduction.”
With another thanks, I head out of his office.
I’m in a daze as I process what just happened. I can’t decide if I feel happy or upset about the team hiring someone just for me. A little of both, I guess.
In the locker room, Graham is clearing out his stuff and placing it into a bag. He catches my eye and quickly looks away.
I approach him, not really sure what I’m going to say until I get there.
“Good luck in Washington.” I hold out my hand to him.
He huffs and eyes my outstretched palm but doesn’t shake it. “I don’t need your luck or your pity. I’m glad to get out of here. I’m over the fucking heat and desert. Don’t worry though, I’m sure we’ll still be in touch. I’ll have to check in on my building from time to time.”
And to think I felt bad for this asshole ten seconds ago.
“Word of advice when you get to Washington. Try working harder than you run your mouth.”
With that, I turn and walk off. I hear him yelling after me but can’t make out what he says. And for once, I don’t care.
When I get to the studio, Sabrina is with a class of kids ages maybe five or six. She stands at the front of the room, and they all face her, listening and mirroring her movements.
I tip my head to the moms sitting in the lobby area watching their children and then I watch Sabrina. She’s in one of her sexy black leotards with a pink skirt that moves with her. Her hair is pulled up in a bun and she smiles at her class with so much pride and joy that they can’t help but be captivated by her.
At the top of the hour, she stops the music and says goodbye to her class. Each kid gets a high five and a sticker of their choice. When they’re all gone, I step inside with her.
As soon as she sees me, her eyes widen and she runs for me, catapulting herself into my arms like she always does. She wraps herself around me, squeezing me as hard as I am her.
“I missed you,” she says pulling back. She places a quick kiss on my lips and then hugs me again. “I missed you so much.”
“Same. It’s been so long I damn near forgot how beautiful you are.”
“Well, I didn’t forget how handsome you are, but I am really glad to lay my eyes on you.” She hops down from my hold but stays close. “Are you done for the day?”
“Yep. You?”
“That was my last class.”
“Thank god.” I glance back to make sure they’ve all left and then sweep her up into my arms and kiss her again.
She giggles into my mouth, then kisses me back like maybe she did miss me as much as I did her.
“I have news,” I say when we finally pull apart.
“Good news?” she asks, tilting her head and sounding hesitant.
I tell her about the team hiring an interpreter and Graham being traded to Washington. And even what he said about the building.
“Good riddance. At least for most of the year we won’t have to worry about him dropping in whenever he feels like it.”
“There’s more.” My heart rate speeds up as I prepare to tell her the rest. “I stopped by and saw Eleanor on my way over.”
As I expected, Sabrina’s face shows her surprise.
“Archer—”
I hold up a hand. “I know you said that you didn’t want that, but I love you too damn much to stand by and do nothing. Eleanor is a good woman, and she’d want to know what kind of guy she’s handing over her legacy to.”
Sabrina bites at her bottom lip, looking nervous. “What did you say? And what did she say?”
“I was hoping to change her mind about letting him buy the building but turns out she was having cold feet anyway. I didn’t have to say much before she confessed that she was already having second thoughts.”
“She is?”
“Yeah, baby, she is.”
“Does that mean she isn’t selling the building?”
“Yep.” I let my grin break free.
“But what about Florida and taking care of her grandkids?”
“She’s still doing that, and I think she will sell the building eventually. She’s just not ready yet. This place has too many memories for her, and with all the other changes she’s making, she just needs more time.”
“Makes sense,” Sabrina says.
I nod. “So until she’s ready, I convinced her to let me manage things for her.”
“You…” The question trails off.
“Yep. I’m going to act as her management company, and in exchange when she’s ready to sell, you’ll have first dibs before she places it on the market.” I think Eleanor was relieved to have an out, honestly. And the idea of Sabrina being able to own it someday and keep it as a dance studio was too much for her to say no.
Sabrina’s mouth gapes open. If I thought she’d let me buy it for her now, I would. This is the next best thing.
“Are you mad? Please say you aren’t mad.”
“No. I’m not mad. A little stunned. This is really happening?” Her lips curve into a tentative smile.
“She’s putting it all on paper so there won’t be any disputing it, should anything happen to her or me. And if you don’t want me to be the manager, I’ll help you find someone else.”
“I could never buy this building. I saw how much Graham was paying for it.” Her face blanches.
“Not yet, but someday you will. Maybe you’ll have studios all over the city.” I wave one hand in the air. “Whatever it is you want, you’ll do it. I have no doubt.”
A small, strangled laugh finally slips from her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about, Archer Holland is the best boyfriend alive.”
“He is.” She leans forward and kisses me. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. If I weren’t already stupid in love with you, I would be now.”
She still looks shocked, but she’s smiling and that’s all I ever want.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She looks up toward the ceiling like she’s deep in thought. “Does this mean you’re my landlord now?”
“Eh…” I bob my head side to side. “More like your supervisor.”
“And what will the working conditions be like?”
“There’ll be a lot of kissing anytime I stop by.” I do just that. “Maybe some late nights working together. Possibly naked.”
She links her hands behind my head and smiles. “I think I can manage that.”
“Good because it starts now.”