He looked up from his desk and smiled as he rose to his feet. “Hey, Dex.”
“Hey, Coach. Nice place here.”
“Thanks.” He came around the desk and shook my hand. “Let’s have a look around.”
He gave me a tour of both the indoor and outdoor facilities, and I was thoroughly impressed with the size, the amount of equipment, and the quality of the machines. We talked about the kind of sessions I might do, how we could schedule them, where they’d fit into an athlete’s overall training regimen. He asked if I’d be interested in doing private fitness coaching since he fielded quite a few inquiries from parents looking to give their kids a leg up on the competition, what I’d charge for both group and private sessions, and what my schedule was like through the fall and winter. I told him I was up for helping out wherever I was needed, as long as he could work with my availability.
We went back to his office, where I filled out some paperwork and gave him my schedule for September and October.
“This is totally workable,” he said. “I’m going to put a few group sessions on the website for September, and send out an email that we’ve got a new trainer—a firefighter and ex-Navy SEAL—but his time is limited so if you want to get in, you have to act fast. I’m positive they’ll be full in a week.”
“Sounds good.” While he typed something on his computer, I glanced around his office. He had a lot of photos and memorabilia from his MLB days, but also pictures of his family. I recognized his wife April—Chip’s birth mom—and their two younger kids. He also had a big picture of Chip framed on the wall—standing on the mound, looking fierce and ready for battle. It looked like it had been taken in the early days of Chip’s Major League career, and I could easily see the resemblance between father and son.
It made me think of my own father. What did he look like now? Was he still tall and wiry? Did he still have dark hair? Mean eyes? Were his knuckles still scarred?
Or would he be old and frail now? White-haired and stoop-shouldered, just another old man shuffling toward death, burdened by the weight of regret. Maybe I wouldn’t even recognize him.
Tyler frowned at his computer screen. “Can you text me a short bio by the end of the day?”
“Sure.” Maybe Winnie would help me with that.
“Thanks. Before you go, I’ll take your picture.”
“Okay.” I ran a hand over my hair. Had I even brushed it today?
“Don’t worry about your hair, Matthews. They’re all going to be looking at those guns.” He grabbed a shirt from a file cabinet drawer and tossed it at me. “Here. Put this on. It’s a medium, so it’s probably going to be a little tight, but that’s the idea.”
I laughed. “Okay.”
After the guy at the desk took a picture of me in a very fitted Bayside Sports T-shirt, I shook Tyler’s hand, thanked him, and told him I’d get the bio to him later tonight.
“Perfect,” he said, giving me a smile. “Welcome to the team.”
On my way home from Bayside, I stopped by my sister’s house. I hadn’t spoken to her all week, and I felt bad about it. She and I were close, and even though I had no intention of changing my mind about seeing our dad, I didn’t want that to come between us.
I let myself in her side door just as she was coming into the kitchen. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” I ran a hand over my hair. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop in and say hi.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I just got the kids down for a nap. Let’s go outside.”
“Okay.” I went out to the deck and dropped into a chair, slipping my sunglasses on. Bree came out a minute later with a baby monitor, setting it on the table before she sat next to me.
“Justin around?” I asked.
“No. He’s at a dentist appointment.”
I nodded and looked around their yard. “Tell him I said he should mow the lawn.”
She nudged my leg with her foot. “Tell Hallie I said you should stop wearing her clothes.”
Glancing down at my ridiculously tight shirt, I chuckled. “My new uniform.”
“You got another job?”
“Just part-time. I’m going to do some conditioning sessions over there. Give them a little taste of boot camp.”
She laughed. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”
We sat in silence for a moment. On the monitor, Prescott made a few fussy noises, but settled again.