Chapter Text
Bitty was surprised to hear that Coach had decided to attend a conference in Montreal. He had thought that his dad would never leave the state of Georgia for anything more than tickets to the Superbowl. But the proof was there in his hand, surrounded by white.
Coach: Jnr. Will be up your way 12th Feb.
That was it. No further explanation. Bitty stared at his phone for what could have been an hour before another text from his dad arrived.
Coach: AFCA holding conference in Montreal, Canada, 7th-10th. See you on way back.
“What?” Was all that he could process. The timer for the oven rang out, startling him. As he got the pie out, Holster walked into the kitchen.
“Sweet! Pie!” he said in a way which suggested that he hadn’t had a meal all day. Bitty looked out the window at the sun setting behind the LAX house.
“Holster, I know you ate like half an hour ago.” He replied. Holster grinned and got to plates out.
“I have to eat frequently,” he stated with a grin, “I’m a growing boy.”
“I don’t doubt that” Bitty muttered, looking back at his phone. He swore that Coach had at least doubled the amount of texts he had sent this year. Another text alert, it was him again.
Coach: Does you house have a barbecue? Thought that I would make my famous pork.
“Do we have a barbecue?” Bitty asked himself. Holster looked up from the pie that he was slicing.
“Maybe? I remember using one a couple of summers ago. Why would you want a barbecue?”. Bitty looked up from his phone to stare at Holster with wide eyes.
“Coach wants to come ‘down’ and cook. His going to a football conference in Montreal and is passing this way on the way back.” Holster nodded and started eating his pie. As he finished the slice he looked up again.
“Is that going to be trouble?” He asked as some of the SMH filtered in to get to the pie. Bitty shrugged.
“Well, he doesn’t believe in letting the bear get him when his cooking, I can say that at least.” Several of the boys around the table looked up from their pie. Nursey mouthed ‘What?’ to Dex. Dex, laughed.
“I guess everyone needs to be good at something, and maybe he lucked out on football.” Bitty smiled at that and sat down to eat the pie that Holster had saved him.
Bitty wished he could say that he was surprised when the day rolled around, but seeing as he had been nervously counting down the days, there wasn’t much he could chat about. He and Coach had been exchanging texts again.
Bitty: Just so I know when to put this pie in the oven, what time are you expecting to get here?
Coach: Pete suggested that he could just carry me here instead of wasting my money on a rental. I think he wants to give me lunch…
Coach: Jnr, he said no later than 2.30 as he has a surprise training session planned for 3.30
Bitty: Are you getting a lift from Samwell’s coach, Robert Johnson?
Coach: Yes son. He goes by Pete.
Bitty laughed to himself as he read the text. He knew from experience that football nicknames had ridiculous roots, just like hockey nicknames. Bitty set about making a blueberry and apple pie. For all that Coach enjoyed peaches as much as any true-blood Georgian, his favourite pie was Bitty’s blueberry and apple. Actually, thinking about it, Bitty should probably make more than one pie. So he also started to put together a rhubarb and raspberry pie, because he knew it would get a laugh out of his dad.
At two o’clock Bitty heard a knock on the Haus door. As it was usually unlocked and almost everyone on the SMH team had a key, Bitty assumed it was his father. Approaching the door allowed Bitty to hear a familiar tune being whistled and he opened the to confirm that it was his father.
“Hello Coach.” Bitty said as his father pulled him in for a brief hug. As he let go Coach asked,
“Well, are you going to let me in, Junior?” Bitty stepped aside.
“Come in. Most of the team are in class at the moment.” Bitty explained as he led the way through the Haus. “Can I interest you in a drink?” He asked as they walked into the kitchen. Coach shook his head.
“Have you got any pie instead, son?” He asked, “I have to see if you’ve improved yet.” Luckily Bitty had carefully timed the cooking process. This meant that the pies were in the oven warming.
“Apple-Blueberry or Raspberry and Rhubarb?” Coach closed his eyes as he decided.
“I’m going to go with the raspberry one, this time. And when your team come back, Junior, I will have a piece of the apple. Got to make sure they know you don’t poison your pies.”
Coach was in the lounge room watching ESPN when Jack came home. Jack paused to look at the back of the man sitting on the couch before heading to the kitchen, where Bitty was studying.
“Trying to prove to your dad that you do study, huh Bittle?” Bitty thought about sticking his tongue but decided that that was probably not the thing to do.
“He seems to be singing under his breath.” Jack continued.
“Oh That. Yeah. He does that when he’s doing strategy. It’s the Jaunty Alby Ettey song.” Bitty replied.
“The what?” Jack asked. Bitty shrugged.
“He only ever seems to sing the first verse. It goes Alby Etty, jaunty Alby Ette, Alby Etty, jetty plum ray, Jetty plum ray a tent, Jetty plum ray a tent Alby Etty, Alby Etty.” Bitty shrugged. “I’ve never understood it.”