Page 1 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

1

SAMANTHA

It’swith mixed emotions that I enter the city. Sure, it's my dad's birthday and as his daughter, my presence is mandatory. I’m not opposed to seeing my parents. I love them. Since my sister is deceased, it’s the least I can do. Dad travels so much as the coach of the football team that it’s no wonder he likes to spend summers boating and fishing in the summertime. Besides, it will allow Ellie to see her grandparents.

We’ll be back in South Carolina on Sunday. It’s a short visit as I never leave my business for long. Maggie is, my chef and we’re best friends. She will handle the inn and the restaurant until we get back. She’s the only person I’d ask to help. I’m stubborn like that.

I hate taking time off. Between the inn, the restaurant, and Ellie's schedule, there's no time for a personal life. Not that I'm looking for one. I'm not sure how to juggle everything on my plate as it is. A boyfriend would be nice, but I have to think about Ellie. I don't want her to get attached to someone who might leave her. Losing her mother was enough heartache for one lifetime. Perhaps I’m not meant to find love. I don’t think I’d know what love is even if it bit me.

I doubt I’m relationship material. I’m traumatized by the loss of my sister and even before that, my dating life wasn’t what I could call stellar. I’ve had limited opportunities to find men as I live in a small town. And statistically, women outnumber men.

Ellie is a precocious five-year-old who loves to cook. I'm sure she's learned that growing up around me. They say kids emulate their parents. I’m different than her mother. I loved my sister but she thought fish sticks and microwavable macaroni and cheese were nutritious.

Ellen was the one who could always make me laugh. She was carefree, always chasing the thrill of the moment. Maybe her free spirit led to risky decisions, but that was part of what made her who she was. And she loved to drive fast.

Dad bought her a Charger in high school and she developed bad habits. Of course, Dad was a high school football coach in Rock Point and she got out of many speeding tickets on her last name. That’s life in a small town. Everyone knows everyone and in retrospect perhaps that led to her thwarting the law and led to her untimely death.

Since the high school always had a great football team and the fact that they have provided the NFL with the most players to date, Dad was quickly promoted. He became the head coach at the state college when I was in high school, and that was before he got his shot at the pros. He's still coaching the Maine Megalodons today.

I’ve been to other family events with team players. But I haven’t been to one since Ellen’s funeral two years ago. The men on the team are larger than life and I can’t deny my fascination as I observe their hard bodies, flirty smiles, and one-liners.

I’m sure my father has warned them that I’m hands-off.That goes without saying. I know these men live in the fast lane with fast cars, elaborate getaways, and women who swoon at their feet. It’s intimidating and it’s not the lifestyle I want for myself or Ellie.

I park the car in the driveway of my parents’ stately home—a sprawling colonial that always feels too grand, and too polished for the down-to-earth chaos of my family. Ellie’s already wriggling out of her booster seat before I’ve even unbuckled my belt. I get out and open her door. She flies out and runs up the pavers to the front door.

By the time I catch up with our small roller luggage, Ellie has disappeared into the main room. I catch the last taps of her shoes clicking against the tiled floor as I drop our bags inside the entryway. I follow on her heels as she walks into the living room where the sunlight slants warmly through the wide bay window.

The room is decorated with off-white furniture, dark blue accent pillows, and crystal vases filled with flowers. Leave it to my mother to have the house looking like a presidential palace for Dad’s birthday bash.

“Ellie,” Mom says as she scoops her granddaughter into her arms. She kisses her like no tomorrow.

“Grandma!” Ellie hugs her and seeing her happy face makes me smile.

“Are you going to help me with the party?” she asks Ellie.

“Yes,” Ellie beams.

“Run outside and see Grandpa,” she says before Ellie dutifully runs out the back door.

“Mom,” I say, hugging her next.

“Sam, I'm glad you're here. It seems you rarely leave Cherry Point. I’m so glad you came. It means so muchto us. We miss you.”

“Old habits die hard,” I mumble as I follow her into the living room that has been the center of all our family holidays. They were never the same without Ellen, nor were clam bakes at the beach. Growing up in South Carolina my favorite summer event was when we gathered together and we haven’t had a get-together there since she died.

“How’s business?” Mom asks as she straightens the cushions on the cream-colored sofa. “The inn and the restaurant both keeping you busy?”

“Always. It’s the beginning of tourist season, so bookings are full, and I just finished planning the new summer menu.” I keep my voice casual. I ease into the armchair, but I know she's going to harp on my love life—or rather, lack of one.

“That’s wonderful, but I wish you'd find someone.” She busies herself with her hand as she fluffs a pillow.

I cringe. This is the part where I get defensive. This is why coming home is bittersweet. I love seeing my parents but Mom pushes me to be like her. We all can't be happily married for over twenty years.

“Mom,” I drone on. I close my eyes for a second. “I’m fine.”

She sits on the sofa across from me. She leans over and puts a hand on my leg. “You run that inn and restaurant like a machine. You’re a fantastic mother to Ellie, but you work way too much.”

“We're doing great. The business is going well. Ellie is happy and she loves school.”

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