The Carolina sun poured through the window as Marcus Watson lounged comfortably on his sofa. It was a Sunday, and the day was all his. He sipped his beer while sitting in a tank top and shorts, watching the movie Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels on the TV. Since his move to Beauford, North Carolina, his life had indeed started to turn around.
Growing up in southern England, he believed the world was his oyster. Up until life, as it so often does, brought him crashing back down to earth. For most of his life, football had been his world. Having played at multiple levels of youth football, even going as far as playing at not just county level but also for England schoolboys, His career eventually peaked when he signed for Oxford United. He was living his dream. But then his dream turned into a nightmare. During one training session, aged 20, he suffered a horror injury: a ruptured anterior cruciate ligament and a torn meniscus in his right knee. His career was over before it had even truly begun.
After his recovery, he began work on his second biggest love, cars. He trained and became qualified as a mechanic. And a successful one, at that. However, life was never the same again. The memories of his life haunted him before the injury. So, at the age of 30, he decided to emigrate. A new country, a fresh start, was his thinking. After plenty of research, he settled on Beaufort, South Carolina. After many protestations from friends and family claiming he must be mad to move to the US, especially a Southern state, as a black man. But he was not deterred by said warnings. So, aged 34, he made the move and crossed the Atlantic and settled in Beaufort. Eventually, he set up his own business and felt his life had a purpose for the first time in years.
The warnings of his friends and family proved to be unfounded. The locals in Beaufort were not just welcoming; they embraced him. Initially surprised that an Englishman had chosen their small town over bustling cities, they soon recognised his value. Marcus became a highly regarded community member, and his successful business earned him respect and admiration.
At 39, Marcus found a new passion in coaching a local under-10s football team (meaning the kids were typically aged 9-10). This role allowed him to give back to the community that had embraced him and helped him rebuild his life. His joy in sharing his passion with the next generation was immeasurable. Now, at 41, Marcus couldn't be happier. He felt a deep sense of fulfilment in his personal and professional life, knowing that he positively impacted these young players' lives.
As a coach, you couldn't ask for more. Marcus could convey his thoughts well; he was supportive of his players and a great tactician. He even became a de facto father figure to many. And as Marcus was so good with their children, the parents also adored him. Some parents more than others; as he was English, 6'3, muscular, black, and despite his prolonged stay in the US, Marcus had retained his English accent, a handful of the single mothers took a noticeable shine to him, and a couple of the married ones too! Marcus ignored this (and their advances), not wanting to disrupt his team's dynamic as they closed in on their first league title under his stewardship.
Taking another sip of his beer, a sudden ring of the doorbell brought him back to his surroundings. Setting his bottle down and turning off the TV just as the doorbell rang again, he headed to the front door, opening it to see Sarah Cartwright-Baker on the doorstep.
Sarah was Jayden's mother, one of the boys in the team. She would more often than not arrive to training or matches in skinny jeans, a white blouse, and a black leather jacket, the look completed with her frequently wearing a pair of Versace sunglasses. Typically, her dirty blonde coloured hair fell to just below her shoulder blades. Whilst not explicitly flaunting it, her 36-24-36 figure was more than evident, accentuated by the fact that she couldn't be any taller than 5'5. And if he had to guess, around the age of 28. She would be there supporting her son, maybe not too interested in the actual football being played, but being there supporting her son nonetheless. Other than that, she usually kept to herself. Today, however, she'd gone for a different look. Her hair was back in a tight ponytail, and the lack of her trademark sunglasses revealed her hazel eyes and her angelic face. She'd opted for a sports bra instead of a blouse and leather jacket. Resulting in plenty of her flawless pale skin being on display. All of this was topped off with a pair of black shorts instead of the jeans that Marcus was used to seeing her in. She almost looked like a different person.
"Erm... Hi, Ms Cartwright-Baker," Marcus said, clearly surprised at the unsolicited visit. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Hello, Marcus." Said Sarah, with a rural Alabama accent and a massive smile, which caught Marcus entirely off guard. "If you don't mind, it's about Jayden. He's a bit down at the minute, with how little time he gets to play during matches. I was hoping we could have a quick chat?"
"Yeah, of course," Replied Marcus, stepping aside to let Sarah in. Please come in, although you're more than welcome to discuss things like this after training."
"I would," Sighed Sarah as she stepped indoors. But with Jayden's father living in Atlantic, we have to leave pretty quick, so he gets to spend as much time over the weekend with his father."
Marcus closed the door behind them and showed Sarah into the lounge. It was an open, spacious, modern-looking room. A large 65" TV stood fixed to the chimney breast, the opening now filled by an electric fireplace. Shelves populated the walls on either side of it. These were filled with movies, books, and the trophies Marcus had won in his playing days. Beneath those were media units holding a games console, some games and more movies. The wall to the left was fitted with large, south-facing French windows that looked out onto a patio in the back garden. The wall to the right, which looked out onto the front garden and road, was fitted with a deep bay window fixed with Venitian blinds, beneath which a steel-coloured, large, deep, fabric-covered chaise-end sofa stood. The wall opposite the TV and beside the door sat an equally large matching sofa, and above that, a plethora of framed signed football shirts and a smattering of pictures of Marus' friends and family back home adorned the wall. A large, geometrically patterned rug lay in the middle of the room that nearly covered all available hardwood floors, on top of which stood a sizeable walnut-coloured coffee table.
"Wow!" exclaimed Sarah. Looking around the room. "Your home is wonderful!"
"Thank you very much," Marcus replied. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Oh, I'm fine, thanks." Sarah laughed, noticing the beer bottle on the coffee table. Before adding jokily and a wink, "I don't like to mix business with pleasure."
Marcus found this comment odd but chalked it up to Sarah's sense of humour and let it slide. Offering her the place where he'd been sitting earlier, Marcus now noticed how much of Sarah's ample cleavage was on display. He blinked for a second, then, pretending he didn't notice, turned and went and sat on the chaise end. Looking back to where Sarah was, he could see she was sitting professionally, despite her attire, legs crossed and back straight.
"So," prompted Marcus. "You wanted to speak about Jayden?"
