Chapter 24
Tate
“I’m telling you, Uncle Tate, it’s a great idea.”
I push away the remnants of my late-morning breakfast. I love this kid, but his constant rambling about Eve and her idea of putting an exhibition rugby team together is too much. And now, Teddy’s turning away from me to help her? Ohfuckno.
“You realize compared to me, you know nothing about rugby.”
He shrugs. “I know, but she needs help, and I know more than she does, so that counts for something. And Gemma will appreciate it when they start talking again. I’m her best bet, at least until she brings a real manager on.”
Don’t ask. Mind your business.I can do this. I can pretend I don’t care. Because I don’t.
“When the manager comes on, she can make adjustments.”
Like an aerosol can too close to a flame, I explode.
“Who is she bringing on?”
“I don’t know. She has a few interviews lined up for later today.”
“How the hell is she going to interview people when she doesn’t know the questions to ask or if they’re giving her the right answer?”
“Don’t worry. Mrs. Robbins said she’ll check online.”
“Like hell.” I grab my car keys. “Lock up here.”
“Uncle Tate.”
“What?” I turn and find my nephew staring at me with a smirk on his face.
“You’re not wearing anything but your pajama pants.”
TEDDY SAID SHE’S ATthe field right now. Stopping long enough to shower was a good idea. It gave me a minute to think. The fact that she’s still looking to move forward with this crazy idea goes against my knee-jerk reaction that she was somehow trying to stick it to me. Why would she? That part never made sense.
“Hey, egghead,” I use my nickname for Teddy. I know he hates it, but right now, I don’t give a fuck. I want him to know if he’s up to something, I’m going to kick his ass. “You better not be lying to me.”
“I’m not. But you might want to hear her out. Look, I know you think the Nurples are a joke, and for you, they are. But for baseball players, it gives them another option. Did you know that three guys from those two exhibition teams were drafted? Maybe it’s not as much of a joke as you want it to be.”
Driving to Eve at the field, I recall a recent article about it. Pride Field was once the high school football field. Long before I moved back to the States, it was renovated and used for youth football and lacrosse. As the kids grew up and moved away, the numbers to sustain it dwindled, and it was recently listed for sale. The town had a clause in there that it could not be replaced with residential homes. A few sales fell through, and the price dropped. The town was excited by the new opportunities that came with the recent sale.Eve.
There are a few cars in the parking lot. I recognize Eve’s and feel a tug on my heart. I miss her. More than I thought I would. She called several times the night everything blew up and again the next day, but I wasn’t ready to talk. I don’t know if I’m ready now, but I’m not going to let some fast-talking snake oil salesman try to get over on her.
A ticket window is staged on the left side of the building. I didn’t notice it the other night. The building, while on the smaller side, seems to have everything it needs: tickets, bathrooms, concessions. I look around the parking area. The location is actually pretty good. It’s only ten minutes away from three major highways. Teddy’s right. I’m a jackass.
A man in paint-splattered clothes wedges a doorstop under the now open door. He offers a nod as we pass each other. I enter the lobby, and wow, does it look different. When I first saw it, the lobby was bright and airy. Now, it has a vibe. Lilac paint covers the walls, with Reapers painted black in wavy letters every ten feet or so. There are also a couple of side images of the Grim Reaper holding his scythe.
I’m not sold, but I am curious.
“Okay, so you coached youth football for three years, and you watched all three seasons ofTed Lasso,and those are your qualifications to manage the startup of a rugby team when you know nothing about the game?”
