Nick had forgotten a quarterback was the reason she was in Wayward Harbor right now, and he winced. “What didyouwant to be?”
“When I was little, I wanted to be a penguinologist in Antarctica.”
“Is penguinologist actually a word?”
“Yes, it is, thank you very much.”
He cast a pointed glance at the way she was snuggled intohishoodie. “Do you know how cold it is in Antarctica?”
“Hey, I’m acclimating. I’m not even wrapped in a blanket right now.” She sighed. “Anyway, back to you. I think most boys want to be athletes when they grow up. Football. Baseball. All the other sports balls.”
Nick wasn’t sure why it mattered, but he wanted to tell her what football had meant to him once. Not because he wanted to convince her not all football players were like the dirtbag she’d met in Las Vegas, but because he wanted her to know he’d had big dreams once—was compelled to show her he wasn’t always so…serious. He wasnotgrumpy, but he’d accept too serious.
“I made it, actually,” he said quietly, keeping his gaze on the smoke sneaking out from under the grill’s lid. “I got a scholarship to a D1 school in Texas, and by the end of my junior year, I was already considered a top draft prospect.”
“Were you a quarterback?” she asked, nose wrinkling. “You seem like a quarterback type.”
“I was a running back. And I’m a little offended by that comparison due to your recent and, as far as I know,onlyinteraction with a quarterback.”
She scoffed and flicked her hand, as if swatting thoughts of that other guy away. “I just meant serious and bossy. You seem like a guy who’d want to be in charge of the team.”
“The coaches are in charge of the team.”
“Whatever. But why football?”
He sighed, resigned to talking about it now that he’d opened the door. “I was obsessed with football for as long as I can remember. I also loved running. My mom was convinced I’d be a track star, but then my dad signed me up for the local football league for kids and that was it.”
“Admittedly, I know very little about sports, but I know you have to bereallygood to be high in the draft.”
“I was. And for the first time, I had my own identity. I wasn’t just Sully Slater’s oldest kid, destined to pound nails for a living. I wasn’t lumped in with my brothers as ‘one of those Slater boys.’ By the time I was varsity, I was the pride and joy not only of Wayward Harbor, but the entire region. And by high school graduation, nobody in Maine talked about football without saying my name.”
Her eyebrow arched. “You must have been insufferable.”
“Probably. But I was also disciplined and focused, and shared a common goal with a team of guys who were like brothers. Being in that locker room and on the field felt likehometo me.”
“You’re not much older than me.” She frowned. “Right?”
“I’m thirty-five.”
“Okay. Again, don’t know sports, but did you retire already?” She covered her mouth. “Oh no, did you get hurt?”
“I never played pro ball.”
Lucy dropped her hand. “Wait, after all that, you didn’t get drafted?”
“My dad passed away suddenly, right before I started my senior year.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes softened, and he got up to check the steak just so he didn’t drown in them.
“I came home for the funeral, and it was a mess, of course.” He shook the potato packet and closed the lid again, though he didn’t turn around. “Gray was a senior in high school. Beck was fifteen and Theo fourteen. We’d not only lost Dad, but he had jobs in the works. Some were unfinished. Some he’d scheduled and taken deposits for. Mom hadn’t worked outside the home since I was born—she mostly helped Dad with the office part of the business. This was before college athletes could earn money on their merch and stuff, so I couldn’t do that. But I told her if she could hire somebody to keep the jobs going and keep the roof over their heads, I’d be able to send money when I signed my rookie contract.”
Nick stopped to breathe for a minute because he hadn’t even gotten to the hardest part yet. Lucy was quiet, seeming to know there was more, but not pushing him to continue.
“I went back to Texas, but my mom—she couldn’t get her feet under her. She called me every night, crying about how difficult it was to manage my brothers. My mom was dealing with depression and my brothers were acting out. It was pretty obvious they were falling apart and neededme, and it doesn’t matter what the choice is—I’ll always choose my family.”
“That had to be devastating,” Lucy said softly. “I’m sorry you lost football. It obviously meant a lot to you.”
“It did. But time went by, and Gray and Beck had things pretty well in hand, with Theo…being Theo. He was a handful, but he was making good choices, so I started thinking about football again. I interviewed around and was offered a position as a JV coach just outside of Boston. Two weeks before I was supposed to start, our mom was diagnosed with cancer.”