Page 14 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

By the end of the day Macy felt nearly human again. The headache was gone, but she was utterly exhausted. She flipped off the flashing OPEN sign—a sign she’d had to talk her father into getting because he was still turning over the old plastic one that clanged against the door every time someone would enter or exit. Just as she headed toward the door to lock up, a familiar face popped in.

“Do you have a minute?”

Macy smiled at her old high school softball coach, Diane Davis. “Of course. Flick that lock, though.”

Diane closed and locked the door, then moved closer to the counter. As always when Macy saw her, Diane was dressed for practice. Today was no different; she wore a pair of track pants and a T-shirt with the school logo on the front.

“I was hoping to catch you when you closed so we wouldn’t be disturbed. Is this okay?”

Intrigued, Macy nodded. “Absolutely. Is something wrong?”

Diane would pop in now and then and Macy would see her at the grocery. Haven was a small town after all, but she’d never stopped after hours to talk. During Macy’s high school days, she tended to see Diane more than her own family. Practice and traveling for games made them close, more friends than just a coach and a player. Diane had even made it a point to go to a couple of Macy’s college games . . . before her year was cut short.

“Not at all,” Diane assured, then gestured toward the register. “Don’t let me keep you. If you need to do other things, I can talk while you close out.”

Waving a hand, Macy replied, “Come on back to my tiny office. I’m in no hurry to add up credit slips.”

Macy led the way through the narrow aisle with screws and bolts and headed toward her office. Her eyes glanced to the stairs and an instant image of Liam carrying her flooded her mind. Not that he’d been far from her thoughts today, especially when Zach had stopped in and mentioned that she looked tired.

Without thinking, Macy had mentioned that she’d slept upstairs last night, but another customer had come up to the counter and she’d gotten busy before she could fully explain. Then Zach left and she had no doubt that he went to Liam for the scoop.

Only there was no scoop, only humiliation and embarrassment and leftover questions as to what was happening between them. She could guess by the passion she’d seen in his eyes and the shield he quickly put up whenever she tried to delve deeper that someone had hurt him; she would bet anything on that. And she didn’t think it was the accident that had left the deepest wound, either. The emotions running within him were just as jagged as the marring on his face.

Later Macy would call and thank him, even though she would have liked to ignore everything that had happened and just move on. Clearly moving on and ignoring what Liam stirred within her wasn’t an option. Besides, he didn’t have to be so compassionate last night. He could’ve helped her to her truck like she’d requested and let her wait the pain out on her own.

Macy pulled out the step stool she kept in the corner and took a seat on it, gesturing toward her rickety desk chair for Diane. “Have a seat and tell me what’s up.”

The chair squeaked and groaned as Diane settled in. Macy leaned against the wall and waited to hear why this conversation was so important that her old coach needed privacy.

“I’m retiring after this season,” she began.

Macy smiled. “That’s wonderful. You’ve devoted so many years, you deserve some time to yourself. Wait . . . you’re not sick or something, are you?”

Diane shook her head and rested her elbow on the desk. “No, no. Just tired, and I think a younger, more energetic coach is needed.”

When Diane only continued to stare, then raised her brows, Macy finally realized what this talk was about. “Me?”

“I don’t know of anyone more qualified.”

Macy could name about five people off the top of her head. She hadn’t touched a bat, glove, or bal

l since she left college midseason after winning a big game against their main rival. She’d actually burned her uniform when she returned home after her mother passed. Her father had been in his own state of grief and she never wanted him, or anyone for that matter, to know her secret. She’d handled everything herself, but she just didn’t know if she could ever revisit the sport she’d once loved more than anything else.

“Oh, Diane, I’m flattered, but—”

“Don’t say no.” She held up a hand and leaned forward in the creaky old chair. “I’m not looking for an answer today. You have some time and I haven’t told anyone I’m retiring. I wanted to discuss this with you because I know you’ll be great. I didn’t want to let the board know yet, because I didn’t want them to post the position.”

Macy’s mind was spinning, something she couldn’t physically afford at the moment. “Surely there’s a teacher who wants to coach.”

Diane had stopped teaching high school math two years ago, but stayed on as the softball coach. She was loved by students and parents. She demanded respect, but the adoration she had for every child she worked with showed. She always had a winning team because the determination and hard work she instilled in her players invariably paid off. Regardless of who replaced her, the school would feel that void.

Diane definitely had some big shoes to fill. Macy wasn’t even sure if she could fill small shoes at this point.

“I doubt there’s a willing teacher,” Diane replied. “I’ve hinted for several months that I may start to slow down and nobody seems eager to step into my place.”

“Because nobody can run that program like you do.”

Diane beamed. “That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s time. My husband wants to travel, and to be honest, I do, too. We want to get an RV and just drive. I want to see the country while I’m still young enough to go on adventures.”

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