‘Twas the Love Before Christmas

12. Noah

Chapter twelve

Noah

T houghts of the snowball fight and sipping cocoa with Catherine yesterday lingered in my mind. But so did my job hunt, so I’d better get a move on.

One thing my mom had said over the years always rang true in desperate situations, and it was that crazy sports people didn’t know when to quit for the holidays. She was right. I was headed into Brighton to the university to catch a few of the coaches or staff. I was certain that a few of them would be around their offices.

I was looking for something to do to keep me occupied – and not necessarily because I needed the money. I had made darn good money in baseball and had invested wisely through the years. So, it wasn’t the money I needed. I just wanted to stay close to the sports world. Something about the camaraderie and the competition drew me close. The camaraderie kept me in touch with my teammates, but the competition encouraged me to do better in each game. Of course, there was always that unpredictability that made it even more fun to be on the field when a player broke a record or pulled off the perfect save.

The drive into the city was a quiet one. There were plenty of people on the road, but the snow muffled some of the noise. Had the snow always muffled the noises? Being alone today may have allowed me simply to notice it better than other drives. Often, these drives to Brighton had been done with others in the truck and a lot of talking. I must admit, the silence was nice.

It didn’t take me long to find the university. Then again, this had been my commute home for the holidays and other occasions for four years. I had attended this school and played baseball here, and I hoped that some of the staff could help me navigate finding a job at the university.

Besides, those I truly wanted help from were more likely to be in the office looking over stats and players and making sure they had their team set up right for the upcoming season.

I made my way into the building where most of the sports coaches had their offices and looked at the directory on the wall. To my surprise, one of the names stuck out to me: Coach Jason White. He had been the coach who had worked with me the most while I played ball here. After ten years, I hadn’t really expected him to still be here. He had been one of the younger coaches, and I was sure he’d be on to bigger and better things by now.

There were a couple of new names that I didn’t recognize on the directory, so I suspected some of the more senior coaches had retired. Maybe Coach White had moved up in the ranks. That wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Life goes on, and things change.

I made my way up towards Coach White’s office. He was on the third floor, so it took me a moment to get there. This building was old, and it had no elevator. I didn’t see the problem, but the freshmen often complained about having to walk up all the stairs to see their coaches – particularly when the newer offices on campus had elevators. I remember thinking that it was a good test of mettle to see which athletes were keeping up in their off-season and which weren’t.

Since it only took me a little longer, I considered it a good thing. My knees weren’t aching, either, so I had done my conditioning well. And I was doing my physical therapy right, too. That was half the reason I was going; it was meant to make sure my entire body was working as it should have again.

I knocked on the door, which was open. Coach White sat at his desk, his head bowed over some statistics from the last season. I could hear him muttering, and he hadn’t heard me knock. I knocked again, this time getting the response I had wanted: he looked up.

Then broke into a wide smile.

“Noah West, back in my office! What a Christmas surprise. Come, take a seat,” Coach White said. “What brings you to see me? And how did you know I’d be here instead of at home?”

“I took a wild guess,” I teased him as I sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk. “Besides, there are only so many places you would want to be, poring over sports statistics this time of year. Anything particularly interesting?”

“No, not really. But I get the feeling that the statistics are not why you’re here to talk to me,” Coach White said. “What really brings you to my office?”

I laid it all out for him as quickly and simply as possible. The better I could make myself understood, the less explaining there’d be. Besides, it wasn’t like Coach White had the best means to tell the world I was retiring. After all, I had left that up to the coach at the Barracudas to do. I’d refused to let him trade me to another team and decided to retire because I didn’t want to slow down any other team. At this point, I would only hamper a good team with the way I had healed. That wasn’t my game.

“We all worried that the injury you took in that last game would be too much to keep going for more than a season or two,” Coach White admitted. “Well, as far as getting you a job here, we don’t currently have anything open. It’s unfortunate timing, but we’ve currently got all the spots filled.” He frowned. “However, if I can think of anything we can do for you, I’ll let you know. How’s that sound?”

His frown turned into a soft smile as he spoke. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t have anything he could offer me, but I supposed that was one of the reasons that I had come. It was okay if he couldn’t offer me a job for now. The support made me feel warm and protected inside—something I hadn’t really felt lately, even with my teammates supporting me.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to try, at least,” I said with a soft laugh. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me, even if it’s almost Christmas. Keep me in mind if something opens up, all right? I’d be interested, no matter what it is.”

“Ah, so this isn’t about the wages,” Coach White inferred. “You’re going to get bored without anything to do, huh?”

“More or less,” I admitted with a soft blush on my cheeks from the embarrassment. “I’m only thirty-one, coach. I had expected to play until I was at least thirty-six or so. This is an early retirement… and please, keep that a secret until it hits this season, all right? No one else knows that I will be retiring outside of my family.”

Coach White nodded solemnly.

“I can keep a secret, Noah. I promise,” he said. “What should I say if my coworkers ask why you’d be interested in a spot here?”

“Just tell them that I’m shopping around because my career is going to be ending sooner than I’d like,” I said. “But don’t tell them why. Or how soon. Just that it’s ending sooner than I’d like.”

He nodded again, and this time, I left the office without another word.

Walking these halls brought back a sense of familiarity. I had walked these halls as I had turned my baseball hobby into more than just a hobby. It brought back the nerves of a freshman just accepted on the team and struggling to balance everything, as well as the accomplished feelings that came with my senior year of being able to get everything done so I could graduate on time.

I had walked these halls with Catherine during Christmas break my freshman year, just showing her around. Even now, I could hear how excited she had been to see where I was playing, where I met my teammates, and even simply where I took my classes. How I wished I had been able to see the university she had gone to, but I had never been able to get a trip to California to work out.

I could also hear remnants of the last argument we’d had that Christmas, both of us worried that the relationship wouldn’t make it to the summer because she wanted to take a spot at a creative writing workshop that would be all summer long and I needed to train in the summer. It was less because it was needed and more because I had wanted to. And I’d be in summer classes because one of the math classes had been much more advanced than I was ready for.

Neither of us wanted to admit that we couldn’t do a summer away from each other. She had wanted me to come with her and do my schooling online and training in the fields while she wrote the day away. I wanted her to attend a creative writing workshop in Brighton so that I could have access to equipment I already knew how to use. It hadn’t been a great New Year’s that year, but at least Christmas had been good.

As I turned into the lobby of the building, I slowed and then stopped at the trophy case. Since this building also housed some of the faculty offices, it also housed all the trophies that were not currently displayed because they were older, less impressive wins. Inside, I immediately recognized a few trophies and pictures from my time on the baseball team here.

One of the trophies was from winning the NCAA Division I tournament. We’d been able to come through successfully—partially because of my skills with throwing and at the bat, but mostly because of our teamwork. We worked hard and became, as they say, a well-oiled machine.

“Those days feel like they’re long gone, huh?”

I turned around and found one of my fellow teammates standing behind me, a coffee in his hand and a scarf around his neck.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here, Tobias,” I said with a smile. “What brings you here?”

“I work here. My office is just down the hall, so when I heard you, I came to check it out. Coach White is probably also here, upstairs, and slaving away over his statistics,” Tobias said with a smile. “But what brings you here, Mr. Baseball? We’ve all watched your star rise in the big leagues. You’ve accomplished much more than any of the rest of us.”

“I came to talk to Coach White, actually,” I replied. “Just to reminisce. Running into you is a bonus!”

We walked over and sat down where students usually sat and waited for their meetings with their coaches and professors in the building.

“Well, I’m glad to see that you’ve at least been able to come home for the holidays this year. With the snow and everything, we all worry that people won’t be able to get home to see families and have to stay on campus,” Tobias said. “But I’m glad that hasn’t been an issue with you. Hey, since you’re here… I picked up some things to give to my kid for Christmas. Would you mind signing them? He’d go nuts; he’s followed your career since you first entered the big leagues.” He grinned. “And I might have told him some stories about my high school buddy who went big-time pro.”

I smiled a little.

“Anything for a friend, but if anyone asks… you got it signed at one of my events last year,” I said. “Okay?”

Tobias nodded. He pulled the baseball bat out of the large stack of things he had been ready to take to the car. With a Sharpie, I signed it next to the trademark.

“I imagine you’ve got him playing baseball,” I said as I returned the bat and Sharpie to him.

“Indeed I do, and, you know, he’s pretty good at it for only eight years old,” Tobias replied. “Wants to play pro ball just like you. And thank you for the autograph. He’s going to go nuts! Hey… it’s kind of snowy outside, and I think heavier snow is on its way. Why don’t you stay at my place for the night?”

I shook my head. “I really should be getting home, Tobias. I’ll be all right. I can drive safely in the snow.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”