Page 61 of Edging Coach
God, what if he said yes?
I’d spent some time scoping out places I wanted to visit in Washington and British Columbia. There were a few I’d mentally dog-eared for quiet getaways once the chaos of theseason ended. When did this league’s regular season end again? I doubted we were in much danger of going to the playoffs.
I opened the team’s app and thumbed through the calendar, heading for April to see when our last game was, but a huge void in February stopped me in my tracks.
The All-Star break.
We had eight straight days without a game.
I checked the scheduling app used by the coaching staff. Practices shortened that break to six days, but still—that was six days when players and staff who weren’t attending the All-Stars could scatter for a brief vacation.
Devon was easily one of the top players on the Grizzlies, but Saffron had already been selected to attend the All-Stars. I hadn’t been picked to coach any of the All-Star teams.
He’d have those six days off. I’d have those six days off.
What if we…
What if…
Heart pounding, I switched to my text app. I stared at the conversation we’d had before. At the texts he’d never responded to. Devon was a lot smarter than me and had a lot more self-control than I did. And a lot more self-preservation.
If I offered up something ridiculous, he was smart enough to say no.
And he might decide he’d had enough and demand a trade, or report me to the organization. I didn’t think we were close to that point, though. If he said no, if he told me to stop, then that was it.
Was it wishful thinking, believing I saw my own hunger in his eyes? That if I suggested something reckless and insane, he might take me up on it?
Only one way to find out.
With my heart in my throat,I started typing.
If it’s a no, say no, and I won’t bring it up again.
I’m going to rent a place in Tofino during the All-Star break. Up on Vancouver Island.
If you want to join me, I’ll send you the address.
And then I waited.
CHAPTER 18
DEVON
T’es un idiot.
A word my mother said never to use. Not about others…and certainly not about myself. A word that was identical in both English and French. I hadn’t used French much in Toronto and I used it even less in British Columbia.
Mom, I’ll try better. I don’t want to lose what little I have left.Before she died, she’d made a series of recordings. On cassettes. I kept those tapes along with a cassette player—so I’d always have one because, God knew, I almost never saw them anymore. In the thirteen years since she’d passed, I hadn’t been able to listen to them. But they were always tucked into my suitcase. Most people worried about losing electronics or some shit if their suitcase got stolen.
I worried about losing my mom.You need to make copies. You need to put them in a safe deposit box.Now I was settled in Abbotsford, that was something I needed to consider.
And still, I sat.
In my car.
Gazing at the cabin on the ocean that Jack had rented in Tofino.
For six entire days.
