Page 63 of The Keeper
My stomach rolls, the nausea building quickly, as I look down at the phone in my hand.
I can’t believe I just did that.
I’m sitting on the bench next to the practice field, my duffle at my feet, fully dressed for practice, nearly an hour early. But I’m not here to get in some extra practice with my teammates, or to jog the field and stretch to warm up. I’m sitting here because I literally feel like I have nowhere else to go.
“Amy, I don’t know what to do.”
It was the tone of his voice that stopped me dead in my tracks when I dropped by his office just a few minutes ago. I was walking down the hallway with a happy heart and a smile on my face. If anyone had seen me, they would just assume Coach McIntosh was having a meeting with one of his players to talk about strategy or injury or a million other things. His door was cracked open just slightly, and I had just reached up to knock when I heard him.
“Amy, I don’t know what to do.”
He sounded devastated. Overwhelmed. Confused. How I was able to pull all of those emotions out of one sentence, I’m not sure. But it was all there. I knew I was encroaching on something private, something personal. Never one to seek out gossip, I had spun on my toes and was just about to walk away from his door and give him privacy when he spoke again. If he had just waited a few more seconds, I wouldn’t have made a horrible decision.
“Even if my job is on the line?”
I froze. Incapable of moving forward. My eyes wide, I kept them focused down the hallway, away from Mack’s door, and yet every nerve in my body was pulling me backwards to hear more. I took one step back. And then another. And another. Until I was standing directly in front of his office, leaning towards the crack in the doorway, straining to hear him speak again. I wondered if I had heard him correctly, and silently prayed that I hadn’t.
“Yeah, last night at my house. I was shocked, but what can I do?”
And then there was silence when all I wanted was to read the thoughts in his mind and know what was happening. Even having heard that much, I still should have left. Why didn’t I just leave? Instead, I inched my head closer, trying to see in through the opening between the door and the jamb. Mack’s office came into view, and my heart broke when I saw him. He was at his desk, one hand to his ear holding his cell phone, the other bracing his head in place. His fingers were twisted into the hair at the crown of his head, his eyes shut tight as he listened.
“But I don’t…”Pause.“I don’t want to just call it off. I can figure it out.”
I swallowed so audibly, I was shocked he couldn’t hear it from where he sat just ten feet away. It clicked in an instant. His job was on the line because of me. Something had happened. Something was making him worry about us continuing whatever we were doing.
But he was confused about what to do?He should just end it! We shouldn’t be doing this!My head was screaming at me to step into his office and tell him we should call it off, take a break, avoid each other, anything. He would understand if I explained it. But then he exhaled with a whoosh, and said three words that made me realize that he would never understand.
“She’s worth it.”
I gasped. That’s how shocked I was. I literally gasped like some stupid weak housewife in a 50’s movie. I then took several large, purposeful steps away from the door, turned and bolted down the hallway. When I finally reached the practice field, I felt like I had sprinted the entire way without taking a breath.
“She’s worth it.”
He said those words. He’d implied he would take on whatever shit storm would rain down on him if word got out about our involvement. But that shit storm would rain onto me as well. In that moment, I should have had normal, altruistic emotions about wanting to protect Mack and his job and reputation.
But my selfish mind was firmly planted in the fact that the lifeIhad worked so hard for would be upended if we kept moving forward.Myscholarship.Mydegree.Mycareer.Myfuture.
And I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel on everything I had accomplished.
Which brings me to now, sitting on the bench at the practice field, staring at the screen reflecting my call to Thomas. It took less than a minute.
Less than a minute to call him and tell him I had decided to say yes to the date.
Less than a minute to schedule something for Friday night.
Less than a minute to know I had made a horrible decision.
But the horrible decision is still the right one. Or at least, that’s what I will need to remind myself. Over and over.
And over.
Chapter Twelve
I love my job as a Stocking Clerk at Candy’s Crafts, a boutique shop on the main drag in Glendale. Sure, the name of the shop is horrible and the work I do isn’t particularly important, but Candy is one of the nicest people I know.
Plus she lets me work whenever I have the time instead of scheduling shifts, so as long as I can put in around fifteen hours over a two-week period, she could care less if I was working in the middle of the night, which is perfect for my hectic schedule.
“How’s the season going?”
