Page 8 of Waiting for Friday Night

“I do date.”

“You’re not dating now.”

“You don’t know that.” Halle hadn’t told Shania about the coffee meetup with Gregory. Only because she wasn’t sure if it would go anywhere.

She didn’t date often after her last serious relationship ended when Shania was still in fifth grade. After they’d broken up Shania had asked about the guy constantly for weeks afterward. Although she hadn’t made it a habit to introduce dates to Shania, she had thought that relationship might go somewhere. When she saw how hard the breakup had also been on Shania, Halle vowed to stop dating until Shania was old enough to understand that Halle going on a date didn’t mean the guy would stick around.

Shania’s eyes lit up. “You like someone?”

A vision of Gregory popped into Halle’s mind. That and the promise for dinner with him on Friday. The corners of her lips lifted. She hadn’t been excited about the possibility of dating in a long time.

“I do.”

Shania gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, who got you smiling like that? Do Aunt Tracey and Imani know? Are they hooking you up?”

Halle wiped the smile off her face. “How about you focus on football and let me focus on my dating life.”

“You do have a crush. That’s so cute! I can’t wait to meet him.”

Halle had to get through dinner first. She didn’t want to get Shania’s hopes up too soon. There were still so many things to settle on. First she’d get through her dinner with Gregory, and then, hopefully, another date. And then another.

“Trust me, when you meet him, you’ll be happy,” Halle said grinning. And she’ll never have to worry about her daughter daydreaming about the possibility of Coach Quinton Evans being her dad ever again.

Four

“And then she accused me of treating Shania differently because she’s a girl.” Quinton finished his story about his conversation with Halle to his friends.

Cyril, who stood behind the bar, stopped wiping down the smooth surface. He straightened and pushed back the brown fedora covering his bald head and rubbed his beard. Of similar height, with light brown skin and a love of graphic T-shirts, Cyril was an extension of the laid-back atmosphere of his bar.

His other friend, Brian, sat next to Quinton on the opposite side of the bar. He slowly lowered the glass he’d taken a sip from, pursed his lips and stared back at Quinton through narrowed dark eyes. The lights in the bar reflected off his friend’s mahogany skin and the waves in the low fade of his stylish haircut.

Quinton looked from one to the other. The crowd was light for a Monday night, but steady enough for Cyril to have to walk away occasionally to fill an order while Quinton vented his frustration. He still couldn’t believe she’d accused him of discriminating against Shania. In his career both on the field and as a coach, he’d never automatically made assumptions about a person’s abilities. He may not be a perfect man, but he wasn’t one who wouldn’t give Shania a chance just because of her gender. He’d seen her play football. She was a decent receiver.

“Then what did you say?” Cyril asked. Thankfully sounding just as surprised by Halle’s words as Quinton had been. He hadn’t believed his friends would doubt him, but he felt vindicated that they hadn’t made the same assumption.

“I was stunned at first, then I told her that Shania would get the same treatment as any other player. As long as she can run plays then she can be on the team. I told her to never question my integrity again.”

Brian nodded. “Okay, then what did she say?”

“She just said I’m glad you understand me or some mess like that then walked off.” Quinton took a quick sip of his beer. He let out a breath and shook his head. “She had me messed up.”

Brian tapped his hand on the counter. “Wait, what? She just walked away. I swear, I’ll never understand a woman’s brain.”

Cyril chuckled and went back to casually wiping the bar’s surface. “I mean...the question may have pissed you off, but it shouldn’t have surprised you too much. If Shania was my daughter playing football, I would have asked the coach the same thing.”

“Even if it was me?” Quinton asked.

Cyril shrugged. “Look, I know you’re not one of those women need to know their place kind of guys, but if it was my daughter in a sport dominated by young, hormone-fueled teenage boys, I’d be worried. I’d want to make sure the coach wasn’t going to let her get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t let them do anything like that to her. If anything, I’m going to make sure no one treats her like she doesn’t belong. Shania loves football. Hell, from what the middle school coach told me, she knew the plays better than some of the guys on the team.”

“You know that, and I know that’s all you care about in a ball player. But Halle doesn’t know you like that,” Cyril said. “She’s just protecting her daughter.”

“If that was her only concern, then I wouldn’t be so upset. My problem is what if she tries to use that as an excuse if I don’t make Shania a starting receiver? I can’t promise her that.” He scowled and took another sip of his beer.

“Look, I’ve known Halle since we were kids,” Brian said. “She was always like that. She put her mind on something and fought like hell to get it. She was always raising money for some cause or getting in trouble because she’d skip school to go to some rally. If she thinks her daughter is going to be treated unfairly, then be ready for her to fight.”

Unlike Cyril and Quinton, Brian had grown up in Peachtree Cove. Cyril had grown up in Baltimore and Quinton had grown up in a small town on the outskirts of the Atlanta area. They’d both moved to Peachtree Cove around the same time. Quinton had originally connected with Brian through an intramural football league in town and they’d recently become friends with Cyril. During his years of playing professionally, Quinton was used to only having friends that were connected to him through playing. When he’d retired and chosen to coach in a small town, some of those relationships had fallen off. He liked having Brian and Cyril in this new chapter of his life.

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