The Coaching Hours

by Sara Ney

  Anabelle

  Dear Elliot,

  I had to break down and buy a new, long puffy coat. My one from last year no longer fits. Thank God I’ve been saving money, because holy cow staying warm is expensive. I’ve been searching for a part-time job, on campus if I can manage it, for some extra spending money. Storing it away like a squirrel.

  There is one job that sounds perfect. It’s in the registrar’s office and carries some actual responsibility, which would be nice.

  Yesterday I finally had someone ask if I was pregnant, so I guess you CAN tell, LOL. I was taking off my jacket in a contract law class and one of my classmates (a guy) was sort of checking me out from head to toe. When he got to my stomach his whole expression changed. He goes, “Whoa. You’re not knocked up, are you?”

  I don’t think I was embarrassed, exactly, more caught off guard because I wasn’t ready for it. I should probably start preparing myself for more of those reactions. Of course he was horrified; we’re in college—who the hell wants to be pregnant? I was his walking, talking, living nightmare. Bet he went home and thanked Jesus he’d never slept with me.

  Rex said I should forget about it and that the guy is an idiot, but I thought about it all night, and here I am writing about it, so it must have really bothered me, right? Rex was just being sweet, as usual, trying to take my mind off it.

  Last night I caved and let him rub my feet. It felt so good I almost fell asleep while it was happening. I went to his place and instead of going to the movies like we’d planned, we ended up taking it old school and renting a few. Nothing like the early 2000s to bring back a flash of old memories…not to mention that foot rub.

  I should totally angle for another one soon—it was bliss.

  Have a great weekend. I won’t be around—Madison is springing for a hotel room in the city and we’re going to do some holiday shopping. My goal is to stay off my phone.

  Talk soon,

  Anabelle

  Dear Elliot,

  You know, I haven’t wanted to bring this up but it’s been weighing on me. When a woman is twenty weeks pregnant, they can find out if their baby is a girl or a boy, and my obstetrician asked if I wanted to find out. I don’t want to tell you because I know you wouldn’t want me finding out without you, and I know you wouldn’t want Rex to come to the appointment with me.

  Madison is no help anymore. She is all over the place, freaking out about final exams, which I should be doing, too, but for whatever reason, I’m retaining EVERYTHING. I swear, this baby is giving me superpowers—I’m soaking up information like a sponge, retaining everything they’re teaching in class. I could recite legal terms blindfolded—next time you call, let’s see if I can actually do it. I’m going to be the best friggin’ lawyer.

  If I ever have time to become one. Haha.

  It’s freezing here, but I won’t talk to you about that. I saw on the news last night Michigan is getting slammed with bad weather. Eight inches of snow in one night?! That’s crazy. Do you ski? You’re in the perfect state for it. I used to go when I was a teenager, but never when it was below twenty degrees. Probably because one year, I stayed out in the cold too long and one of my big toes got frostbite. Was that too much information?? LOL, it seemed relevant to the conversation.

  Back to the point, I’m dying to know if it’s a girl or a boy. How do you feel about that? How do you feel about not being here?

  Rex said you probably wouldn’t care since you’re not here anyway, but I have no desire to add that to the list of things I already feel guilty about.

  Anabelle

  Elliot,

  I felt it kick yesterday for the first time.

  A real kick, not a flutter. It startled me. I was in class, taking notes (remember my superpowers?), focused on the professor’s lecture when it happened. My hand flew to my stomach and I held my breath. I know it sounds dramatic, but it kind of was. It’s all becoming so real now that I’m showing and can feel movement. It’s surreal. I feel big as a house even though I know I’m not, not like I will be in January or February.

  Did I tell you your mom reached out to me? You should have warned me! Not that I mind because I don’t—of course not. She called and was so sweet it made me cry (everything does lately, so that’s nothing new, haha). She asked a bunch of questions about myself, how I felt, and wanted to know when she could meet me. I’ve never been so relieved after a phone call in my entire life, Elliot, I almost passed out, holding my breath when I heard the sound of her voice. She introduced herself as Baby Gramma, LOL. Seriously, she was so funny and nice. So, thank you for giving her my number. I’d hug you right now if I could.

  When do you come home? I hope the weather cooperates.

  I worry about you each and every day.

  Miss you so much (and that’s not just the hormones talking),

  Your baby mama

  Elliot,

  I had lunch with your mom and sister, Beth, today. Did they tell you? God, I was so nervous. I may or may not have been sick in the bathroom before leaving the house (Spoiler alert: I vomited). Why do you suppose I was more panicked meeting your family than I was telling my dad? I wasn’t even as scared to tell you, but I freaked out when I arrived at the restaurant and it took forever for me to walk inside.

  That’s weird, isn’t it?

  We met halfway between your hometown and Iowa City, at a cute little diner. Your mom held me and we both cried before we sat down at the table. I ordered breakfast for lunch and a white soda to calm my stomach then just picked at my food—I WAS SO NERVOUS!!!!

  Your sister rubbed my stomach a million times and must have called me ‘adorable Anabelle’ at least a dozen. Your mom tried to take a few selfies and I wonder if she sent them to you.

  They brought me a couple gifts, which made me all emotional. A pretty cream-colored baby blanket and a onesie with little yellow ducks. It was so sweet, Elliot, and I think your mom would like to come with me to a few doctor’s appointments. They feel horrible that you’re so far away, but we all agree it’s the best place for you. It was reassuring to know they’re going to be in my life from now on, too.

  The more pregnant I become, the more sentimental I am, wanting to be surrounded by people I love and care about. I crave it more than I crave hot chocolate with whipped cream! Madison and Rex and my parents, and now your mother and sister, too.

  Speaking of my dad—he’s calling practice early tonight and coming jogging with Rex and me around campus, which we’ve been doing so I can stay in shape. Don’t worry, my doctor said exercise is the best thing for me. **wink** Anyway, Dad found out I’ve been going and offered to come along. I don’t know how far he’ll be able to jog without passing out, but he’s going to try.

  He has a newfound respect for Rex and as odd as it is, they’ve become friends. I think he likes having another guy around the house when we drop by.

  I’m counting down the days until your Christmas break.

  Anabelle

  Anabelle

  “Thanks for coming over tonight and fixing this leak. Madison and I really appreciate it. You know how I hate calling my dad—he hates that I’m living here, and I don’t need him thinking it’s such a dump he makes me move home.”

  Rex’s feet stick out from under our sink, handing me the wrench he used to tighten the pipes in the kitchen before hauling himself out and to his feet.

  He has a black smudge on his face and I reach out to wipe it away with my thumb.

  “How did you get so messy? That’s where we keep all the cleaning supplies—how can it be dirty under there?”

  His fingers gently grab hold of my wrist, kissing at the sensitive skin there before releasing it. “Don’t worry about the mess, Donnelly. The sink is fixed and you can run the faucet without it leaking.”

  Whoa. That’s the first time Rex has shown any type of physical affection for me, always keeping a safe, respectable distance.

  “The plumbing shouldn’t give you any more problems, but
if it does, I’m not leaving to head home for Christmas until tomorrow. You need me to do anything else, you call, okay? Change a light bulb or something? I’m your guy.”

  I laugh. “That we can do ourselves. Normally I would have tightened that bolt, too, but with this bump getting bigger, I wasn’t taking any chances under the sink. I probably would have had to call the fire department to have them come save me.”

  “You’re so fucking cute pregnant.” Gunderson surveys me while running the water, scrubbing his hands clean.

  “You think so?” My long, dark hair is shiny from the prenatal vitamins, thick and lush, falling over my breasts in silky waves. Skin? Flawless.

  “Yes, Anabelle.” He glances at me, absentmindedly wiping his hands dry on a towel. “You’re definitely one of those women who can pull off the sexy preggo look.”

  Women.

  Not girl. Not chick.

  He sees me as a woman.

  It’s been ages since anyone has told me I look sexy or complimented me on my appearance, and I miss it. It feels wonderful.

  “Hey, Anabelle?”

  I glance up at Rex, who’s leaning against my kitchen counter in jeans and an Iowa wrestling hoodie, head cocked to the side, looking young and hopeful. Adorkable, if I’m being honest.

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you ever thought about, you know…me.”

  “You? I think about you all the time, you goof.”

  His head shakes. “No, Anabelle, have you thought about what it would be like being with me?”

  “Why? Have you thought about what it would be like to be with me?”

  His big, brown eyes are intense. Sweet. “All the time.”

  All the time? How did I not know that?

  “I don’t know. I haven’t thought much about relationships lately. Truthfully, who would want to be with me, Rex? I’m not exactly a catch at the moment.”

  I’m roughly six months pregnant and getting bigger every day. My hormones are out of whack and I cry all the time. Sure, my hair and skin look amazing, and I haven’t gained much pregnancy weight, but…

  He straightens to his full height, inching toward me, reaching for my hands.

  “I consider you a catch, Anabelle Donnelly. You and your neon pink poster board were probably the best thing that happened to me this year. Without you, I’d be acting like a dumbass somewhere, wasting my fucking education.”

  Oh God, he is too, too sweet.

  “You can do better than me, Rex,” I chastise quietly, letting him lace our fingers. “And your mother would drop dead from a heart attack if you started dating me.”

  I would know because I’ve met his mother. She’s one of those high-maintenance suburban housewife socialites with regular Botox injections and pouting lips. She loves me as his friend but would have a conniption fit if we were romantically involved.

  He shrugs. “Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t.”

  “Rex…”

  “Will you at least let me kiss you before I go?”

  Yes. Yes, I’ll let him kiss me. I’m single and lonely, and the father of my child hasn’t made any declarations. And I’m curious.

  I tip my chin up as his hands slide along my shoulders and up my neck, cupping my face as Elliot has done dozens of times in the past. God, the contact feels good.

  His lips are timid, like butterfly kisses, soft and gentle and exploratory, gradually gaining confidence. He kisses me tenderly and I’m curious enough to open my mouth, to let his tongue slip inside.

  Our breaths mingle. Tongues roll.

  He tastes good, like gum and the cologne I bought for his birthday to replace the terrible scent he always wore before.

  The kiss doesn’t last long, but it’s nice.

  Definitely nice.

  My toes aren’t curling inside my socks like they did with Elliot, but as far as first kisses go, I’ve had worse, with guys who didn’t care about me like Gunderson does.

  Still, is nice enough?

  As scared as I am to be alone, is it fair to give Rex hope? I nibble my bottom lip, thinking.

  “I never thought I would actually get the chance to kiss you—never in a million fucking years.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re…you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, for one, you’re Coach Donnelly’s daughter. He fired me and hated my guts, like, forever. Two, that stupid, fucking bet. Three, you’re beautiful and smart and should know better than to be friends with someone like me.”

  I place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tenderly.

  “You’re more than dumb pranks and tasteless jokes. That’s why I’m friends with you, Rex. I see the good in you. You’re one of my best friends.”

  “I can live with that assessment.” He pauses, hand blazing a trail down my arm. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you waiting for Elliot?”

  I avoid his inquisitive gaze. “Define wait.”

  “Anabelle, you know he’s not coming back, right?” He asks quietly enough that my shoulders sag.

  Why is he saying this? I don’t need him pointing out the obvious—it makes me feel like shit. “I know he’s not coming back, I’m not a fool. I watched him leave—twice.”

  Backing away, he crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “You have to be realistic. He is gone. He’s moved on with his life. You video chat and email for Christ’s sake—what kind of a relationship is that? What kind of involvement do you want for the baby? An absentee dad or one that’s right here? I’m right fucking here, Anabelle.”

  “Rex, don’t do this now.” Please don’t, I silently beg.

  I’m already so confused. Rex is baring his soul when mine isn’t nearly ready for him, not just yet.

  “I’m sorry, Anabelle. That’s how I feel, and I’ve done a lot of growing up this past semester. I just wanted you to acknowledge that, and maybe, when you’re ready, give me a chance. I’m going to be an engineer,” he boasts.

  I close the distance between us, raising my palm to his cheek, stroking it softly. “You are so good to me, and I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re the best friend I have right now—everyone else abandoned me when I fucked up. You’re the only one who has my back, and now I have yours.”

  “God, you’re so…”

  “Marvelous?” He flashes me a cocky grin. “I know.”

  I pat his face. “The ego on you.”

  “It gets me through the day, Donnelly. Days like this where I pour my heart out and it gets stomped on.”

  My hands fly to my hips now, affronted. “I am not stomping on your heart, you brat!”

  “But you’re never going to fall in love with me, are you?”

  “I don’t…” I don’t think so. “I don’t know.”

  We stare each other down, the kitchen silent, clock above the window ticking loudly. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

  Then, from the front of the house, a knock on the door. Three short raps, followed by more deafening silence.

  “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Rex gathers the black winter parka draped over one of my kitchen chairs, sliding his arms into the sleeves. Zips it up the front.

  I flirtatiously bump him with my hip. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Let me go first. It’s dark out, you shouldn’t be answering the door. You have no peephole.” Passing the couch on his way to the entryway, he snatches a blanket from the back, unfolding it. Drapes it across my shoulders. “Here, wrap up. It’s cold out.”

  My heart leaps at his gesture, wishing the circumstances were different, wishing my heart wasn’t aching for someone hundreds of miles away.

  “Thank you.”

  We’re still grinning at each other like fools when Rex unlocks and pulls open my front door, smiles dropping when we both catch an eyeful of the man standing on my front stoop.

  My breath catches.
r />   “Elliot?”

  Those soulful eyes I love so much gaze up at mine, flickering between Rex and me, flashing a mix of curiosity and anger. Jealousy.

  “Well, well, well, look who decided to show up.” Rex’s laugh is slightly maniacal and my brows shoot up, surprised. “Hey, baby daddy. Long time no see.”

  “Rex!” I gasp, mortified and uncomfortable. “Stop.”

  Elliot shifts on his heels. “It’s okay, Anabelle. He’s right.”

  “Damn right I am.” Rex’s nostrils flare.

  I drag my gaze off my friend, fixating on the guy I haven’t laid eyes on in far too long. “Elliot, what are you doing here?”

  “Yeah, Elliot,” Rex parrots, “what are you doing here?”

  “Please, Rex.” I turn to face him, laying my palms in the middle of his chest, over his puffy winter coat. “Maybe it’s best if you left. I can handle this on my own.”

  I can’t describe the change in his expression—couldn’t if I tried—and I want to beg him to forgive me for sending him away when he’s just trying to protect me from myself, from getting hurt when it’s obviously inevitable.

  Hurt and devastation. Love and devotion.

  That’s what I see reflected in Gunderson’s half-hooded eyes as he looks down at me, debating.

  “Fine.” His lips purse. He leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, speaking low into my ear. “Text if you want me to come back.”

  “I will.”

  “Night, Anabelle.” He yanks a knit cap out of his pockets, pulling it down on his head. Snarls at Elliot, bumping his broad shoulder as he passes, stepping down onto the sidewalk. “Deuces, douchebag.”

  I give him an embarrassed, feeble wave. “Bye.”

  He walks backward down the sidewalk, facing the house, calling out to me in the frigid cold. “I’ll be back in two weeks. I’ll message you while I’m gone.”

  Another wave. “Drive safe.”

  It’s freezing and our warm breaths mingle with the frigid air, tension-filled puffs wafting into the night. I can’t stop my chest from rising and falling, breathing hard from the shock of seeing Elliot on the concrete steps of the house.