Page 69 of Ruled Out

“Don’t they say humor’s the best medicine?” he chuckles, before his face straightens into a more serious expression.

“How have you been?” I ask after a beat of silence, slightly afraid to hear his answer.

“You know I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, so I’m going to come right out and say it. I have cancer, Knox. Stage 3, lung cancer. I found out over the summer, and that’s why I retired so quickly. I’ve always had the pride of a lion, and I’ve struggled with sharing the news. I just don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. Your dad is the only person, aside from my wife, who’s known since I got the diagnosis. The chemo and radiation is starting to change my appearance, so I can’t really keep it a secret anymore. Anyways, I don’t want you getting upset or feeling sorry for me. I just wanted you to know,” he exhales.

Cancer. Dan has cancer. My childhood hero has cancer.My heart stops beating as a lump forms in my throat.

“Dan…” His name is all I can get out. I'm at a complete loss for words.

“It’s okay, son. You don’t have to give me some sentimental speech. I have cancer, and it’s been a battle every day since I found out. There’s really not much else to say, other than I’m going to fight like hell to beat this,” he huffs.

I feel like I can finally take a breath at the mention of him beating it. “So, you have a chance?” I choke out, my voice coming out shaky.

“Yes. Luckily, I was never a smoker, which increases my chances of recovery,” he replies offhandedly.

“What do you need from me, Dan? How can I help? I’ll do anything, just let me know.” Dan hates when people offer to help him, because he likes to do everything on his own. He’s always been that way. I just don't know what else to say. I would do just about anything not to lose him.

“I don’t need you to do anything, Knox,” he sighs. “This is why I haven't wanted to tell people. I don’t want to be treated differently. I have a great group of doctors and nurses who are doing everything they can. I just want to be treated like regular old Dan, like nothing has changed.”

“Okay,” I croak out a whisper while nodding my head.

“Your dad knows I’m speaking with you today, and I’ve asked him to keep you updated on my progress. Aside from that, I don’t want to talk about cancer anymore. I hear the word way too damn much as it is. I want you to still call me to talk about baseball, coaching, girls…hell, just anything other than cancer,” he scoffs.

All I can do is nod my head and take a deep breath. Dan has never seen me cry, and I have a feeling he won’t want to see it now. I have to be strong. I need to keep it together.

“Knox, I’m going to be okay,” he whispers, placing his calloused hand on my shoulder.

“I’m going to hold you to it, old man,” I manage to reply, my lips turning up in a watery smile.

“You better,” he replies with a smirk. “Anyways, enough of this nonsense. What’s been going on with you?”

“God, I don’t even know where to start. Are you sure you want to hear about the shit show that’s been my life lately?” I reply, running my hands through my hair.

“Do you think I drove all the way here just to talk about me? Of course, I want to hear all about your life. I have a meeting with an old colleague in an hour, so you better get to talking, because I want to know everything,” he pushes.

“Well, since we aren't beating around the bush, I’m applying to different coaching jobs in the area. I’m planning on leaving CCU, Dan.” I hang my head, too ashamed to look him in the eye. CCU means everything to him.

“What’s got you wanting to move jobs? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with seeing what’s out there. You’re young and can move around. Hell, I took at least five coaching jobs before I landed at CCU.” He laughs, a true belly laugh that I’m grateful to hear.

He’s already taking this better than I thought.

“Are you not enjoying the job?” he adds, pinching his brows together.

“No, it’s not that. The team is great. It’s just…” I trail off, trying to find the right words.

“It’s just what? Spit it out, son.”

“It’s an athlete…” I exhale. “One of the girls I coach at CCU. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined having feelings for one of my athletes, but it all happened so fast. I wish I could say I regret it, but I don’t. I don’t regret a single second with her. That’s why I need to leave, because I can’t stay away from her, Dan. She means too much to me.” I nervously fidget with the couch cushion.

“It’s the blonde center fielder, isn't it?” he asks casually.

“What?” I practically yelp, my head snapping up in shock from his response. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been coaching longer than you’ve been alive, Knox. Do you think I never felt attracted to an athlete in my younger years? I never acted on it, but I sure as hell felt it. Whether they’ll admit it or not, I think every coach has at some point in their career,” he says with a shrug.

“But how did you know it was her?”

“I streamed the last couple of games while I was in treatment. I saw the way she kept looking at you from center field, and the way you left your hand on her shoulder a second too long when she would walk into the dugout. I saw the look in your eyes when she would make a good play. You didn’t just look proud, but head over heels in love with her. I know you too well, Knox. I would have been blind to not have seen it,” he admits.

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