Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 99012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
I chuckled. “I’m sure they do.”
We watched the game for a while. Toward the end of the fourth quarter, the coach put Wyatt in for another field goal try, which he nailed. I clapped. “Four for four!”
“Kid’s got some leg. The soccer coach must not have been happy when the football coach nabbed him.”
“He wasn’t actually. And Wyatt’s mom was against him playing football. But Wyatt has a way of talking people into anything, especially me and his mother.”
“It sounds like you two have been friends a long time.”
I nodded. “We have. I also used to babysit Wyatt when his mom had to work. So we’re pretty close.”
“Is that before or after you started to work for Mr. Zhang and live above the fruit stand?”
“God, you even remember my landlord’s name. You have a very good memory.”
“Only when I’m interested in what I’m hearing.”
My stomach felt all mushy, which I tried to ignore. “To answer your question, it was both before and after I started working at the fruit stand. Talia, Wyatt’s mom, and I lived in the same shelter for a while when I was fifteen. That’s how we met.”
Christian’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I wouldn’t change that year because without it, I wouldn’t have Talia and Wyatt in my life. Talia was only sixteen when she had Wyatt. She and I are five years apart, so Wyatt was just four when we met. Back then, she watched my stuff while I went to school, so it would be there when I got back, and I watched her son while she worked an evening shift at McDonald’s.” I looked out to the field and over at Wyatt. “When I got my apartment above Mr. Zhang’s, they stayed with me for a while until she made assistant manager and could afford a place of their own. We’ve been close ever since. She and Miller are my family, the ones I chose.”
Christian shook his head. “I don’t get how John could have let his daughter live in a shelter with all that he had.”
“I wish I understood a lot of things about him better...”
After the game was over, Wyatt came charging across the field. I leaned over to Christian as he neared. “Glad he didn’t trip.”
“Holy crap! I can’t believe Christian Knox is here!”
Christian stretched a hand over the fence. “Nice game, Wyatt.”
Wyatt’s eyes bulged. “You know my name?”
“Sure. I came to watch you play.” He lifted his chin to the reporters still positioned along the edge of the field. “So did they.”
“Really?”
“Yep. But if your coach is anything like my high school coach, he’s not gonna be happy that you’re over here. So why don’t you go back and join your team for the end-of-game talk. I’ll come over and say hello in a few minutes.”
“Okay!”
Wyatt bolted back toward his team without even glancing in my direction.
“I don’t think he noticed I was standing here.”
Christian’s eyes swept up and over me. “Trust me, he’s the only one.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “You know, I am your boss.”
“Not right now you’re not, and there are about six layers of coaches and management between us, so I’m not worried about it anyway.” He gestured toward the media. “I gotta go give them some time for coming. You want to join me, or do an end run and go the other way?”
I normally avoided the media at all costs, but I appreciated them being here today, and one hand washed the other in the world of business, so I decided to walk over with Christian.
The first reporter we stopped at was Reggie Carter. He was older and more polite than a lot of the young guys. “Ms. Keating? I thought that looked like you. Damn, this must be an important kid for both of you to be here.”
Christian looked to me to answer. I smiled. “He is. And I appreciate you coming to see for yourself.”
He dug a small notebook from the leather satchel at his feet and flipped to an open page. “Tell me a little bit about him…”
***
“So what do you want to major in at college?” Christian glanced in the rearview mirror, speaking to Wyatt. After more than an hour of throwing the ball around with the team, he’d insisted on driving us both home.
Wyatt was so busy tapping away on his phone, he didn’t respond.
“Wyatt?” I said. “Christian asked you a question.”
“Oh…sorry. My Snapchat is blowing up because of the pictures I posted of Christian and me having a catch.” Wyatt lowered his cell. “What did you ask?”
Christian smiled. “What are you thinking about studying in college?”
Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to play football. Whatever is easiest, I guess.”
“You know, a lot of excellent players never make it to the NFL. But even if you do, every time you step out on that field, you risk having your career end because of an injury. You should take some time to think about what you’re interested in and pick something that offers you a solid future. Every smart player has a backup plan.”