Page 46 of We'll Meet Again

“Ah, Debbie,” Tony said upon spying the women in the doorway.

“Donna,” she corrected, while Billie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Billie here’s filed a complaint, and we need to look over it.”

He turned shocked, irate eyes on Billie, who returned with the most smug look she could muster. Anything to hide how scared she actually was. Her stomach turning earlier had just been a warm up - it was full on doing flips now, especially under his withering gaze.

“Has she?” he said, his voice like steel. Without looking, he addressed Peter. “Give us the room, O’Riley.”

With a huff, Peter made a swift exit, resolutely ignoring Billie as he did. Donna laid out the documents and explained the complaint. It had several layers to it - contacting Billie outside of working hours, his tone in the messages, as well as the subject matter. Tony made no protest, but as he signed his acknowledgement, his eyes shot daggers in Billie’s direction. So much so, she wondered if - in her effort to put the matter to bed, she had thrown down the gauntlet instead.

Ethan’s muscles fired with the effort he put into pushing the bar off his chest, each rep helping to relieve him of his worry for Billie. He had been witness to Tony being a bit of a jerk when he first arrived, but those texts were something else. They were demanding and controlling and everything Ethan hated to see. Especially from someone who had so much power over her. He had seen texts like that before on his mother’s phone when she was struggling, and it had turned into something…much worse.

It was especially concerning to hear Billie had intended to confront her boss alone, but thankfully, Ethan reminded her of HR for what it was - a resource. Only now he was kicking himself for forgetting to ask her to let him know how it went. His brain was flooded with every horrible thing that could happen - most of it hyperbolic, of course - and now, even the exercise wasn’t helping to distract him.

Placing the bar on the rack, he sat up. First, he got water, and then he reached for his phone. There was nothing from Billie, but to his surprise, there was a text from Coach Larry. Its cryptic nature made his heart skip a beat. It said:Hey Ethan! Got a minute? I’ve got some news.

He frowned at his screen. That was never a comforting sentence. If someone had good news, they usually said it was good. But bad news was just…news.

Hey Coach, he texted back.I’ve got some time. What’s up?

Instantly a FaceTime call came in. Ethan answered. Coach Larry’s cheerful face appeared on the screen, that paternal grin on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. His smiles always reached his eyes.

“Ethan!” Coach said brightly, and Ethan’s spirits rose a little. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. “How are you, son?”

Ethan couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m good, Coach. London’s…it’s an adjustment, but I’m enjoying it.”

“You’re having a helluva season, too,” Coach Larry said. “That Manchester City match had me about coming out of my chair! Well done!”

“Thanks,” Ethan said with a chuckle. “I learned from the best.”

“You know I love you, kid, you ain’t gotta suck up to me.” He paused. “Betty tells me you met a girl. How’s that going?”

Ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she had. “It’s…it’s going real well.”

“She nice to you?”

“She’s a sweetheart.”

“Good! You nice to her?”

“Yes, sir. I learned that from the best as well.”

Ethan didn’t have a relationship in his home to look up to growing up, but he recalled with great fondness the way Coach Larry always looked after Mrs. Lowe. He doted on her - bringing her water during hot match days, sending her flowers just because he thought of her, and never letting the romance fade between them. “Gotta date your wife, boys,” he always said. “Your wedding day is only the beginning of a lifelong love story.” The other boys groaned, but Ethan held that message close, making a firm decision that day - he would never be the man his father and grandfather were. He would be good.

“Ah, I’m just doing the husband thing,” he said humbly. “The best thing a man can be is -”

“The person their loved ones need,” Ethan finished.

Larry chuckled. “I don’t think any athlete I’ve ever coached paid as much attention to the things I said as you.”

“Probably not.” Ethan cleared his throat, remembering the reason for the phone call. “So, uh…what’s this news?”

Larry’s smile faded. “Well…now, this ain’t exactly easy to say, I’m still processing it myself, but…I wanted you to hear it from me before you saw something on Facebook or whatever else.”

Ethan pushed down the plethora of awful things that popped into his mind. “Oh?”

“Son, I’ve got cancer,” Larry said. “Late stages. They’ve given me about six months.”

The words slammed into Ethan’s heart like a fist, making it reel backward as it throbbed. The one good man Ethan had known, who had taught him the sport that became his career, who he still spoke to regularly, but all of a sudden regularly didn’t feel like enough. Six months? That was just past the end of the season. Not enough time for Ethan to get back to the States and get time to say…goodbye? Thank you? Sorry?

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