“We got you covered,” she says.
“Thank you.” I don’t ask her who’s coming. I know all the guys and their wives well enough. I don’t care who it is. I’m just grateful they’re coming to help me.
“You’re welcome. Reid’s on his phone looking for towing companies. He’s going to call for you and tell them where you are, but not until we know you’re not on your own.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling emotion swelling in my throat. “I love you, bestie, and you found a good one,” I tell her, but she already knows that.
“You’ll find yours, too,” she assures me. “He’s out there waiting for you.”
“I’ll let you go. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” We end the call, and I curse because I forgot to ask her where I should have it towed. Oh well, I’ll just ask whoever is coming to rescue me. I’m confident that Knox, Landry, Baker, or Foster will know of a good mechanic, and if not, well, I’ll just pick one and try my luck. There’s not much else I can do at this point.
I hit the lock button on the doors, just to ensure we’re locked in, lean my head back against the headrest, and close my eyes. This wasn’t the Saturday afternoon adventure I had planned, but that’s okay. It’s a small hiccup. Mia and I are both fine. It could have been much worse. My car dying could have caused an accident, and I’m grateful I was able to safely pull to the side of the road and call for help.
Seven
Will
* * *
It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting around the conference room with the general manager, my assistant coach, our scouting team, and my offensive and defensive coordinators. The blinds are half open, letting some of the afternoon sun filter in. The shadows are hitting the dry-erase board in rows, reminding me of yard markers.
The table is littered with yellow legal pads, hours-old coffee cups, and folders filled with reports. We’re making our lists and checking them twice. It’s a crucial time for all the teams in the league, and we’ll be practically living here at the stadium until draft weekend is over.
We’ve been here since early this morning because it’s crunch time. The draft is on Thursday, and this year, Nashville is hosting, which means we, the Rampage, are hosting. It’s great because I don’t have to travel. I get enough of that during the season. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind traveling, but as each year passes, I’ve come to realize that being home, even one filled with silence, is my preference over living out of a suitcase.
“What about that running back from Georgia?” Frank, my offensive coordinator, suggests. “Get him in here and learn from Sinclair and Vaughn.”
“He’s a definite maybe. Kid’s got good numbers. He nailed his agility test, too,” I comment just as my cell phone rings. Inwardly, I groan, and I want to ignore it, because old habits die hard, but I check it anyway. When I see my son-in-law’s name on the screen, my stomach drops to my toes. “Reid,” I answer, my voice gruff.
“Hey, Dad,” Bellamy greets me.
“Bellamy, is everyone okay?” I hold up my finger to the guys and stand from my chair, stepping out of the conference room. “I thought you were visiting your mom this weekend?”
“Yeah, we’re fine, and we are. I kind of have a favor to ask. Reid was going to call one of the guys, but I told him I wanted to ask you first, so he handed me his phone.”
Slowly, I exhale, feeling my shoulders ease. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
“Well, Amanda just called me, and she’s stranded. Her car broke down, and she’s on the side of the road. She doesn’t want to call a tow truck and ride with them because she has Mia. She forgot we were at Mom’s when she called and asked—reluctantly, I might add—if we could help. Reid was going to send a group text to the guys, but we know that Knox’s family is in town, so Knox and Landry are out. Camden hasn’t been feeling well, and Foster and Eden are on a trip to the zoo with the kids from the children’s home. I was hoping that you’re already home from the stadium and might be able to help her?”
I look through the conference room window, and there’s still so much work to do, but my daughter is asking me to help her best friend, and I can’t say no. I don’t want to say no. I want to be someone she knows she can depend on, beyond dinner invitations and babysitting. Besides, we’ve been at this all day. We might as well all go home, get some rest, and regroup tomorrow.
“Can you send me her location? I’ll leave the stadium now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’m happy to do it. Send me her location. Have you called a tow truck?”
“Reid is going to call one and have them take it to McIntosh Garage.”
“Perfect. Text Amanda and tell her not to get out of her car for anyone, even the tow truck, until I get there.”
She sighs with relief, clears her throat, sniffs, and says, “Thank you, Dad,” with a crack in her voice.
“Anytime, sweetheart. Give Coral a kiss from me, and tell your mother, Cliff, and Reid that I said hello. I’ll take care of Amanda and Mia. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I appreciate that. I worry about her.”