Troy smoothed his silver and blue patterned silk tie over his ice blue shirt. “Everything is fine. But Marc and I wanted to talk with you about Andy and Jackie.”
He was even more confused. “You want advice on your love life?”
“No.” DeMarcus stood beside him with arms akimbo and legs braced on the gleaming hardwood court. He still wore his black Monarchs T-shirt and silver shorts. “We want you to ask your wife to stop meddling in our relationships.”
Warrick gaped at his coach. “What?”
Troy settled onto a bleacher. “Smooth, Guinn. Really smooth.”
DeMarcus shrugged. “You’re the media guy. Spin it.”
Troy frowned at the coach, then looked at Warrick. “Andy and Jackie spoke with Mary this morning.”
“Why?” Warrick sat beside Troy. This was going to take a while if he had to pry every word from his friends.
DeMarcus was almost eerily still as he loomed over Warrick. “Jack wanted to check on Mary. She knows the press coverage has been hard on her.”
Warrick’s brows knitted. He still didn’t see a connection. “I appreciate that. But what does it have to do with your relationships?”
Troy smoothed his goatee. “Apparently, Mary said some things that scared our ladies.”
The brakes squealed on Warrick’s tumbling thoughts. “Like what?”
DeMarcus pushed his hands into the front pockets of his silver shorts. “Jack and I want to start a family. I want to get an earlier start than she does, but I was bringing her around to my way of thinking. One morning with Mary and I’m back to square one with Jack.”
Troy added his piece. “I’ve been trying to get Andy to move in with me. She thinks I’m moving too fast. She said she needs her space.” He grunted. “Andy lives in a shoe box apartment with two other women and a little girl. She’d have more space if she lived with me.”
Warrick burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. “None of that is Mary’s fault. Jackie will make a great mother—when she’s ready.”
DeMarcus sighed. “Neither of us is getting any younger.”
Warrick ignored him. Jaclyn wouldn’t appreciate them talking about her age. “And Andrea’s address isn’t the issue.”
Troy spread his arms. “She spends most nights at m
y place anyway.”
Warrick shook his head, tossing his friends a shaming look. “You both need to learn to compromise. That’s part of the relationship game. I don’t know how you got to this stage of your life without realizing that.”
Troy propped his elbows on his thighs, his hands hanging loose between his knees. “So speaks the old married guy.”
Warrick sobered. “That’s the key. I’m the married one.” Though for how much longer was anyone’s guess.
DeMarcus rubbed his hand over his close-cropped hair. “All I’m saying is that it would be helpful if Mary could talk about the positives of starting a family. She’s an obstetrician. She must have something good to say about having kids.”
Warrick pushed himself to his feet. “Sorry, Coach, but I’m not going to ask my wife to lobby for you. You’re on your own.”
“All right.” Troy stood as well. “I understand your reluctance to ask her to speak on our behalf. But maybe you could ask her to ease up on the Independent Ladies platform while we’re trying to convince our ladies that they need us.”
Warrick couldn’t hold back a smile. “If your girlfriends really needed you, it wouldn’t matter what my wife said. Now, fellas, I need to get home.” He lifted his gym bag onto his shoulder and started to leave, but turned back as an idea came to him. “Coach, wasn’t your father a high school teacher?”
DeMarcus nodded. “Both of my parents were. Why?”
Warrick cocked his head. “Do you think he could create a study plan to help Jamal learn the playbook?”
A spark of interest lit DeMarcus’s black eyes. “I’ll ask him.”
Troy smoothed his goatee. “How’s Mary holding up?”