Bryan forgot the injury as the anticipation of coaching returned. Before he realized what he was doing, he was reenacting the play he’d seen just before collapsing.
“The kid is a natural athlete, Kev. I wish I’d found out his name, but I didn’t want to scare him any more than I already had.”
“You don’t actually think his mom will call, do you? You know what women think of football.”
Again, the simple reminder of his wife was enough to set Bryan’s enthusiasm back ten yards. “You’re right, she probably doesn’t even realize the talent the boy has.”
“That’s a safe bet.”
Bryan leaned his head back on the chair, resting his bottled water on one knee. He recalled his own mother’s hesitation to let him play, and his dad’s convincing argument. Remembering his father’s death, Bryan realized for the first time that his own son was destined to an equal if not worse fate. He’d never even know the rare beauty of a mother’s protective love. It was obvious that Andrea didn’t care enough to think of anyone but herself.
Interrupting his thoughts, Kevin grumbled. “Don’t even think it, Bryan. There are too many kids with problems for you to solve.”
“The boy needs a little encouragement, a big brother, so to speak. He’s eight years old!”
“Okay, so he needs someone. If I remember correctly…”
“You’re the one who got me into coaching at all. It wasn’t my idea.” Bryan pointed to his friend, knowing by heart the lecture that was coming.
Before Kevin had a chance to speak, he added, “Besides, this isn’t at all the same as with Andrea.”
“You’ll never change.”
Bryan walked to the window, setting his glass on the sill. “I thought I could make it work. She needed someone to love her. It was good for a while.”
“What wasn’t good then? You were the new executive at Computex, women at your door all hours of the day and night.”
Bryan interrupted. “Those women were on your doorstep, not mine, Buddy.”
“Like I said, they were good times.” Kevin laughed, but Bryan continued to stare out the window. “Andrea had you under her spell. She knew what she wanted, and you were her ticket.”
“How can I go on without her?”
“She left you almost a year ago, Bryan! Forget her.” Kevin took a long drink, finishing his tea in one swallow.
“If she would have seen the counselor with me, we could have worked everything out…And a baby!” Bryan mumbled an expletive. “She didn’t even tell me about my own son.”
“You’re a saint, man. She leaves you without so much as a word, doesn’t tell you or her lawyer she’s carrying your kid, and you think you could have saved a marriage she never cared about.”
Bryan closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t understand, Kev. There has to be more to it…”
“What I understand is, you’re better off without her. Snap out of it! Andrea didn’t deserve you. What you need is a…”
“The last thing I need is a woman complicating my life.”
Hamburger sizzled in the cast-iron skillet. Laura massaged her temple, trying to ward off the tension headache looming beneath the surface.
The front door slammed just before T.J. ran into the kitchen. “Mom. Can I play football this year? The McKinley coach came by the park and he wants me to play.”
Before the words were out of her mouth, her son rushed through an explanation of how he’d come to talk to the stranger. After having seen his own father at the hands of the paramedics, she didn’t have the heart to lecture her son about trying to help a stranger who’d appeared to need medical help.
“I don’t know how we could fit that in this year, honey.”
“But Dad said when I turned eight I could play.”
“T.J.” Her mouth went dry. How could she explain?
“Please, Mom.”
“Wasn’t the sign-up last week?”
The smile disappeared. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that she’d just broken her son’s heart. Didn’t every boy dream of being an all-star quarterback at one time?
“Here’s the coach’s phone number. Can’t you at least call him?” Then as if he knew exactly how to turn the knife, he added, “Dad wouldn’t have forgotten to sign me up.”
She took the tattered paper and stuffed it into her pocket. That was when Todd was going to be the coach. Things changed. “Go wash up. Supper’s ready.”
If you’d take this baby, you wouldn’t have to worry about the money. The fact remained, though, that Bryan Beaumont knew nothing about raising a child, which meant she’d not only be caring for his son, but also trying to teach another workaholic father how to be a dad. To make matters worse, this father wasn’t her husband. This one was single, incredibly handsome and obviously had the means to substitute his love and attention with any number of material toys.
Both hands full, Laura kicked the refrigerator door closed. She set the gallon of milk and the skillet of hamburger gravy on the table, then sat down and waited for the children to settle before offering thanks. Their routine had. changed so little, it was as if her husband were at a board meeting and would return before the evening was over.
After supper, she finished the dishes and helped the kids get ready for bed, still agonizing over both problems. She thought of calling Bryan’s secretary for more information, as Vicky had been a client once, but realized how unprofessional that would appear.
Then she wondered if she should call the football coach.
Out of the question.
What could she say? Thanks for your encouragement, but I just can’t afford it? Not a chance. The last thing she wanted was some do-gooder giving them charity. It wasn’t that there really was no money to spare, but she was trying to keep within a budget, and after buying new tires and paying the plumbing bill, it would cut into the emergency fund. Not a good way to start the month.
She could always go into detail about how challenging it was to transport nine kids to practices. Or spew out her personal sob story and sound like a whiny, helpless woman. Forget it. They’d manage. There would always be next year, after life had settled into a dull and boring routine again.
Football taken care of, she set her mind to the problem of filling her opening, or more to the point, how to not fill the opening. At least, not with the adorable son of a potently handsome widower who twisted her words to suit his needs.
Sleep. That would clear her mind.
Wrong.
The quiet only filled her mind with more guilt. The furnace kicked on, squealing at first, then dissipating to a rhythmic drone. Oh, the joys of a fixer-upper. Before winter’s over, the furnace too, will most likely need to be replaced.
She rolled onto her stomach and covered her head with a pillow as overgrown branches of the giant maple rubbed against the side of the house. Another chore Todd had meant to do this summer.
Before long, the mental list of possible repairs had tripled, and her headache was pounding. “Okay, I get the message, God. You’ve always provided for our needs, and now is no exception. But why through a single father with an attitude?”