“Vinson!” he said in his rough, gravelly voice as he answered the phone. “What can I do ya for?”
“Hi, Coach Hatting,” I replied, “you in the mood for a beer or two?”
“It's 'Cal;' you can drop the 'Coach Hatting' thing, Vinson! I ain't your coach no more! But hell yeah, I could do with a Bud, sure! I'm guessing you wanna talk about the girls' first game, huh? How did that go?”
“We won!”
“Excellent. Well, then I definitely wanna hear about it. Let's have a beer over at Captain Dorego's. You can buy me a shrimp burger, too; how does that sound?”
“See you there in half an hour?” I replied with a chuckle.
“Perfect.”
I cut off the call and breathed out a slow sigh. A touch of nerves set in. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to the questions I was going to ask him. Hell, I didn’t even know if Eryn would be open to trying that kiss again.
Nonetheless, I needed to know. No woman had ever stirred me up like Eryn. And I wasn’t about to pretend I wasn’t feeling anything.
Forcing down the anxiety, I got in my car and began the drive.
*****
Half an hour later, a waiter in a pirate costume greeted me at the door of Captain Dorego’s, and I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath at how unenthusiastic he seemed in his role.
“Arr matey, be you dining alone or with company?” he asked in what had to be the worst pirate impression I'd ever heard.
“A friend of mine is on his way. Table for two please.”
“Follow me then, ye'll be seated in Davey Jones' locker.”
I followed the teenage boy over to the table, marveling at how cheesy the whole pirate theme was and wondering why Coach Hatting had chosen this place. Perhaps, despite the silliness, the food was actually decent.
“A tankard of ale or a mug a' rum for ye, matey?” asked the teenager.
“How about two Buds?”
“Arr, two Budweisers it tis then,” he replied, and then hurried off.
I smiled as I saw Coach Hatting shuffling in as the pirate left. He walked over to me and we shook hands.
“Tell me all about it!” he said, getting right to the point as he sat down. “What was the final score?”
“It was a total whitewash,” I said with a grin. “We absolutely creamed them.”
“The score, dammit, the score!”
“We took it straight – three games. First game was 30 to 13, the next they only managed 9, but the last game Miami did fight back hard, and managed to get 28. It was too little, too late for them, though.”
Coach Hatting was overjoyed. “I knew it! I just damn well knew it! Gosh darn it, you've done a stellar job, Vinson. I knew that team just needed a real coach to take 'em to the top.
“That bozo who was there before, with his bribe-taking and general sloppiness, he did enough damage that they finished second to last in the league last season. If I ever see that moron, I swear to God, I'm gonna clock him, right in the damn jaw! But man, you're turning it all around, Vinson, you're turning it all around!”
“Don't forget that you're also responsible for this success, Coach — I mean, Cal. You coached them before I showed up, so it's just as much your victory as it is mine.”
“So tell me, Vinson, who were the star players?”
“Leena Kenton; I made her captain because she's a real extrovert and great at drumming up team spirit. She played well. Jacky Shay, she was great on defense. And Lois Bruin, she played her ass off. But I gotta tell you, Cal, there’s one who really played like an absolute pro-”
“Wait, let me guess...Eryn Barnett?”