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“I’m sorry sir; I’m not sure what you’re saying here.” I clear my throat and say.
“The Hornets are discontinuing services with your agency.”
SIX
GUNNAR
THE FRONT DOOR to the house slams and I hear Sawyer’s heavy footsteps as she walks through the tiled front of the home and into the kitchen.
I’m cutting a tomato in slices for a sandwich and just about to slice again when she bursts around the counter.
Her eyes are puffy, and her nose is red. She slams her shoulder bag onto the top of the counter and blows out a long breath as she looks at me with her bottom lip trembling. I didn’t see her after lunch for our afternoon practices, so I didn’t get a chance to speak to her.
“Babe?” I ask.
She holds up her hand and looks down to the top of the counter.
“I’m no longer working with The Hornets,” her tone is void of emotion with her bottom lip trembling.
“You got fired?” I ask.
“No, yes. I guess so. The team is going with another agency. Your coach said that it had nothing to do with me. The owners made the decision and didn’t give him full details.”
“Fuck. You have helped the team so much the past few years. What other freaking agency could do a better job that what you guys are doing? Where’s my phone?”
“No! Don’t’ call. That would be unprofessional of the both of us. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I want to drink. I need to drink, and then I want you to take me to bed and have your wild way with me.” She leans forward and asks.
MY ARM IS FIRMLY around Sawyer’s waist as I walk her into the bedroom and pull her to my side when she almost face plants into the wall beside the doorway.
I let her go when she’s close enough to the bed and she lands with an ‘umph’ and runs her hands along the comforter of the bed.
“I love furniture,” she slurs. “Furniture is a funny word. I love that too. Do you think that the word road is pronounced weird…? It should be ro-ad. I love words, they’re nice.”
I hold in my laughter and go to the closet to grab something for her to change into. Once I turn back around and I see that Sawyer is passed out, half on and half off the bed.
I shake my head, carefully remove her pants and then pull her up to the top of the bed and under the covers. I grab a glass of water and some aspirin and place it beside her side of the bed, with a wastebasket. I leave the light on in the closet just in case and turn off the bedroom light.
I walk back into the kitchen, grab my phone from the countertop and dial the Skipper, knowing that I shouldn’t be, but I know that I need to hear it from him myself.
“Listen son, I know why you’re calling and I had nothing to do with the Chainsaw’s agency being replaced, I’m sorry.” he says as soon as he answers.
“How long ago did you find all this out?” I ask.
“You know I cannot discuss anything further with you Gun. In fact, I don’t know anything more than you do. But besides that, it’s a discussion between management.”
“I get that, but with all due respect sir; she’s been a huge asset to the team for the past four years.”
“I agree Gunnar, but again - this matter was a decision that was made by a pay grade higher than myself and again, it wouldn’t be a decision that we would have discussed with players,” he says sternly. “It’s business, son.”
“Understood. Thank you though, for picking up the phone and speaking with me.”
“Get some rest; even though you won’t be playing tomorrow, you need to be in prime shape just in case. What I’ve seen from these farm boys is that they need a lot more work if they want to play this season.”
“What about Bellows sir?”
“Bellows is going to have a lot of catching up to do this season; he’s doing his own kind of conditioning. More on that later though. You’re still set to head back to town early for the meetings we discussed this afternoon, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
