Homecoming (A Boys of Fall Novel) (3 page)

“I’m good, thanks. I ate on the road, and I won’t be carrying too much in. I made a few calls from the road and I’m looking at an apartment as soon as I can arrange it. I guess the owner of the building is going to have Chase remodel it when he’s done working in New Jersey and, in the meantime, doesn’t mind me staying there on a week-to-week basis. Gives him some money without worrying about a tenant getting in the way of renovations.”

“Well, you know if it’s not right for you that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I’ll just let you and Coach talk, and give a yell if you need anything.”

Once she was gone, Sam took a seat on the couch opposite Coach’s recliner. “Are you really doing okay?”

“I am. I’ve felt better and it’s frustrating as hell having my
wife and daughter and a bunch of doctors fussing over me, but I’m trying to look at the bright side, which is that I’m not dead.”

Sam laughed, even though the thought of it made his heart stutter. “I’m glad you’re not. What about your business? Is that under control?”

“Yup.” Coach was a plumber with his own business and, though he’d slowed down in recent years, most of the town looked to him when they needed somebody. “My buddy’s kid is coming up from the city two or three days a week to cover for me. He’s been in the market for a camp a little north of here so he’s looking around after work. Killing two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“Good. You know I’ll help out if you need me, but I’m not licensed.”

“We’re good. I just need you to focus on the football team.”

It seemed like a good opening. “What did you really drag me out here for? You’ve got assistant coaches and there are plenty of guys in town who know the basics. Decker played ball for you. He could have stepped in.”

“Deck’s got a business to run. And the coaching staff was already down to bare bones. A couple of the guys I had made other commitments when the funding for the team was cut at the town meeting in the spring. Charlie was damn good, but he got offered a job down south he couldn’t pass up. Dan’s wife just had a baby and there were some complications, so he’s needed at home a lot. And Joel, who’s the gym teacher, helps out with the workouts, but he doesn’t have a head for football.”

“Come on, Coach. You and Kelly didn’t ask me to drive up here from Texas because there wasn’t a guy in the entire
county capable of wrangling some high school boys on a football field.”

“They’ve had a rough go, son.” Coach’s eyes turned somber. “This town’s economy went to shit, dragging their families down and tearing some apart. Then they thought they lost the one thing that kept them out of trouble and gave them dreams of college and maybe something more to budget cuts. No sooner did they have hope again before I go and end up in the hospital. They’re shaken up.”

“I spent a lot of time with them when I was here for Eagles Fest and they’re good kids.”

“I don’t just need somebody to blow a whistle and call plays from the sidelines,” Coach said. “I need somebody who knows what they’re feeling—who knows what playing ball together as a team can mean when it’s the only thing in your world you can control.”

Sam took a moment before he spoke again, hoping the words wouldn’t jam up behind the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t the game, Coach. It was you.”

“Hell, I’m not magic. I was just a guy who believed in you and taught you boys to believe in yourselves and each other.”

“You saved me.” It was that simple in Sam’s mind. He’d been hell-bent on destroying himself because it was the only way to escape the hell that was his home, and he wasn’t long for a cell or a coffin when Coach had seen him throw a brick through the liquor store window because they wouldn’t sell him a bottle. Some sort of deal had been struck between Coach and the chief of police, and Sam ended up choosing showing up at football practice over doing time in jail.

“You saved yourself. I may have thrown you a rope, but
you hauled yourself up. You worked your ass off and learned to define yourself by your own actions and nobody else’s. I need you to get my boys through this, son.”

Mixed emotions churned in Sam’s stomach. The weight of responsibility and expectations, along with the pride that Coach’s faith in him brought to the surface. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I’ve ever asked of you.” Coach yawned and Sam noticed his eyelids were looking a little heavy. “Besides, I think you’ve got some unfinished business in Stewart Mills.”

He was pretty sure Coach meant giving his mother a chance at repairing their relationship, but it was Jen Cooper’s face that flashed through his mind. He wasn’t sure he’d consider the pretty guidance counselor unfinished business, but he had a feeling that whatever chemistry had brought them together during the Eagles Fest street fair was still just as potent as it had been on that summer
night.

J
en was surprised when a knock on her doorjamb interrupted the endless reading of paperwork. Usually somebody in the main office called back when she had a visitor, and the students seldom knocked except on the rare occasion when her door was closed.

Looking up, she saw Gretchen Walker and smiled. Then she saw the chocolate Lab beside her and laughed. “Cocoa! You must have been pretty stealthy to sneak in here.”

The dog walked around the desk to sit next to her and lifted her paw for a high five. It was the only trick she knew, so she never missed an opportunity to show it off. Jen slapped hand to paw and then scratched the dog’s neck.

Gretchen sank into one of the visitors’ chairs, pulling her long, dark braid over her shoulder so it wouldn’t get caught
behind her back. “I delivered your ugly pumpkin babies and nobody said anything about Cocoa, so here we are.”

Jen laughed. “Mrs. Fournier must have been thrilled to have them.”

“It’s hard to tell with her.”

Jen had asked Gretchen if she’d be willing to donate some small pumpkins to the health class, and that she’d happily take the rejects that wouldn’t sell. After her grandfather’s passing and in a tough economy, Gretchen had planted some pumpkins to supplement the farm’s income, and it had grown into a surprisingly good business venture.

The Stewart Mills High health class had, for decades, taken part in the longstanding tradition of making students pair off and care for eggs to teach them how difficult their lives would be as parents. Gretchen had her own thoughts on how ineffective the exercise was as birth control but, until Mrs. Fournier retired, the babies would stay.

After an unfortunate incident the previous school year, they had reconsidered eggs, however. One of the students lost hers and it wasn’t found until
much
later, when it broke between the seats of her mother’s minivan. It had taken two hundred dollars to clean it well enough so the family could ride in it without gagging, and Jen had floated the idea of using tiny pumpkins instead. It was one of the few times she and the health teacher had seen eye to eye on an issue.

“I guess they’re going to draw faces on them and everything,” Gretchen continued.

“Some of the big school systems actually have robotic babies, from what I’ve read. And the teacher can access data from the baby and see how well the kids are actually taking care of it.” Jen shrugged. “Considering we had to
nickel-and-dime the school budget right down to explaining to the committee the only way we could save any more on toilet paper would be a
bring your own leaves
policy, we won’t be having robotic infants anytime soon.”

“Pumpkins are cuter, anyway.” Gretchen smiled. “And speaking of cute, I heard you ran into Sam yesterday.”

“Did Kelly at least let me get out of the driveway before she texted you?”

“I doubt it. So?”

“So what?” When Gretchen just stared at her, one eyebrow arched, Jen sighed. “I have to see him in about an hour because he’s having his first meeting with the team after school, and Kelly and Coach both think I should be there. I need to mentally put him in a box with a big old
professional colleague
sticker on it.”

“But he’s only a temporary substitute professional colleague. That’s barely a colleague at all.”

“It’s Sam Leavitt, Gretchen. We didn’t hang around with him when we were kids, but we knew him. He was bad news, and not in the sexy-bad-boy kind of way.” Okay, maybe a little bit of the sexy-bad-boy kind of way, but if he’d ever actually noticed her, she probably would have run.

“Kelly told me you were focusing on who he was then instead of who he is now. That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I don’t really want to focus on him at all.” But she didn’t expect her friends to get that message any more than her subconscious had, judging by the steamy dream she’d had last night.

Cocoa started to fidget, making a soft whimpering sound while looking at Gretchen with her big eyes. “You need to find some grass, girl?”

“Thanks for bringing the pumpkins by. I would have found somebody to pick them up.”

“I had a few things to do in town and Cocoa wanted to ride in the truck. Alex is in Providence to empty out his apartment, so she’s been pacing the house and driving Gram and me crazy.”

Jen walked them through the maze of narrow hallways to the main office so Gretchen could sign out of the visitors’ log. Then she gave Cocoa a high five and watched them leave before heading to the staff break room. She wanted a coffee, and the powers that be wouldn’t allow individual Keurig coffee brewers. First the coffee brewers and then mini-fridges for the half-and-half, they had said. It was a slippery slope to having to go without pens in order to pay the electric bills.

Kelsey Jordan, the new social sciences teacher, was sitting at the break table, reading what looked like a badly handwritten paper. She looked up when the door opened, and smiled. “Coffee time?”

“You know it. Free period?”

“Yeah. I decided to hide in here rather than in my room because there are cookies here.”

Jen grabbed one of the aforementioned cookies from the plastic-wrapped tray. “I need to fortify before the football meeting. Trying to gauge the emotional status of a roomful of teenage male athletes is like trying to win a staring contest with an owl.”

“Speaking of the football team, I saw the new coach in the hallway a few minutes ago.”

Why hearing Sam was on the premises should send an
excited sizzle down her spine when she’d known he’d be there was beyond Jen, but she barely managed not to choke on the snickerdoodle she was chewing.

“He’s wicked cute,” Kelsey said, and Jen was reminded that Miss Jordan was young and single. And pretty.

“I guess,” Jen said, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show on the back of her neck. She shouldn’t have worn her hair up today.

“So do you have dibs on him or what?”

“Dibs? He’s not the last buffalo hot wing.” Jen grabbed another cookie before carrying her coffee to the table. “Or cookie.”

“I know the three guys—Sam and Alex Murphy and Chase Sanders—were tight in high school and are still friends. And you and Kelly and Gretchen are best friends. Kelly’s marrying Chase and Gretchen’s marrying Alex, so . . . you know.”

“I don’t have dibs,” she said, and then she sipped her coffee to keep from saying more. Maybe the new fill-in coach would hook up with the pretty social sciences teacher and Jen could be done with him once and for all.

She set the snickerdoodle on the table, her appetite for sweets suddenly gone. If that happened, Kelsey would be a lucky woman. Jen knew just how amazing Sam’s hands felt on naked skin and how, even though he was having a rough night, he’d made sure she was breathless and weak-kneed from pleasure before he went looking for his own.

If Sam actually set out to romance a woman . . . Jen shivered just thinking about it.

“You okay?” Kelsey asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I just got a chill.” She ate the cookie
and washed it down with the rest of her coffee so she could get out of there. “Everything okay with your classes?”

“So far, so good. I don’t know the kids as well as some of you, since I haven’t been here long, but I haven’t noticed anything that concerns me.”

“That’s a good thing, though it’s still early in the year.” Jen got up and washed her mug out in the sink before setting it in the drying rack. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Yeah, you’ll be hanging out with the hot coach.”

“I meant in my office on a daily basis, not for the next hour.” Jen forced a laugh to take any accidental sting out of her words. “But, yeah, I’ll be with the football team this afternoon.”

And the hot coach, she thought, yanking open the break room door.
So do you have dibs on him or what?
In her mind, she ran her tongue from his sternum over his Adam’s apple and under his jaw to his chin, licking him so nobody else could have him.

Jen almost walked right into a couple of seniors and mumbled an apology as they split apart to avoid a collision. She turned the corner and then ducked into the girls’ restroom to splash some cold water on her face. She really needed to get it together before she walked into the meeting.

And no dibs.

—

W
hen the door to the room they were using for the football meeting opened, Sam turned, expecting to see one or more of the players. Or maybe one of the guys who were supposed to be assistant coaching.

It was Jen, and she looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. She glanced around, as if hoping there were other people in the room, before putting on a polite smile. “I guess I’m early.”

“Not as early as I was. I guess I was anxious.”

“You’ll do great,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she believed that or if it was some kind of reflex response that came from her job.

“Thanks.”

“How’s Coach? He must be glad you’re here.”

“He seems good. Mrs. McDonnell’s making damn sure he follows his doctor’s orders, so he’s cranky as hell, though. And this morning he asked me to smuggle him a cheeseburger.”

Jen laughed, a happy sound that relaxed him. “I know you’re conditioned to do what Coach tells you, but I think that’s the wrong play in this situation.”

“You got that right.”

“Have you seen your mom yet?” His shoulders stiffened and he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Are you going to?”

For a few seconds, he thought about not answering. He didn’t care for personal questions and had a tendency to ignore them, especially if they came from women who might be trying to take his emotional temperature. But there was a possibility Jen’s only motivation in trying to get into his head was her concern for the boys on the team. His mental state could affect them, so it was slightly her business.
Very
slightly.

“I wouldn’t have come back if I wasn’t willing to see her, even for Coach,” he finally said. “That would be cruel.”

He could tell by her expression that Jen agreed, which he liked. But it was awkward having her ask about his mom,
because she was the reason he’d ended up alone with Jen the first time he’d come back to town. He’d run into his mom and it threw him, so he’d started walking. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking when Jen drove by before stopping and picking him up.

They’d started talking and ended up by the old dam, where a whole lot of making out in cars had happened in his teenage years. Talking became touching and, before long, touching became sex on the hood of her car.

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about that night out by the dam.”

Busted.
He shrugged, letting the corner of his mouth turn up in a half smile. “Usually when I look at you, I end up thinking about that night at the dam.”

Her cheeks turned a shade of pink that complemented the creamy sweater she was wearing. “It was a stress release. That’s what we decided.”

“I don’t think we ever talked about it, so when did we decide this?”

“No.” She waved her hand at him. “By we, I mean Kelly and I. We decided it was because you were so stressed out by seeing your mom and I was so stressed out by the whole football funding thing and . . . we just released some of that stress together.”

“Is that what it was?”

“Of course it was. We have absolutely nothing in common. I mean, we’re not each other’s type
at all
, so what else could it be?”

Since Sam was confident Jen had no idea what his type
was, he had to assume what she meant was that
he
wasn’t
her
type. At all. And for some reason, even though he hadn’t come back to town with the intention to pick up where they’d left off, that hurt.

He was saved from having to answer, though, when the door pushed open and a stream of teenage boys entered. They were talking to each other and, on the surface, the mood looked good. But he could see the tension in them and a thread of anxiety buzzed through the chatter.

Sam remembered some of them from Eagles Fest. He and the other alumni guys had worked with the team on the fund-raiser to-do list before the kids kicked their asses in the Eagles versus Eagles alumni exhibition game.

He saw Hunter Cass, who was not only the running back but tended to be the mouth for the team. He’d had a rough summer, but appeared to be back on track. PJ the cornerback was with him, talking as usual. The kid never shut up and had made it clear he was playing football just to pad his qualifications for being a head coach someday. He considered himself the secret weapon because he was observant as hell and quite the strategist. Ronnie was one of the defensive line, and the thing Sam remembered most about him was his notoriously bad sense of direction. The kid could get lost in the school cafeteria.

While he waited for them all to find seats and settle in, Sam looked over the clipboard he’d brought from the tiny closet off the gym that served as Coach’s office. Running down the names and positions calmed his nerves.

It became obvious to him after a few minutes, however, that the teenagers wouldn’t quiet down until he told them
to. He looked out over the group and then slapped the clipboard down on the desk. They all shut up and turned to him, expectation written all over their faces.

Sam had no idea what to say. All day he’d been running words through his mind, trying to come up with some kind of inspirational speech worthy of Coach McDonnell. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” they all said together.

Screw it. He’d come up with a pep talk another day. “So you’ve played some scrimmages. You won your first game.”

“Dude, we’re pretty good,” Cody Dodge said from the back row.

Sam smiled, remembering that the tight end called everybody
dude
to the point Chase had wanted to strangle him. “I was on the losing end of our exhibition game, so I know you’re pretty good.”

“Yeah, but you guys are like old, dude. We’re pretty good in our division.”

He heard Jen try to disguise a snicker as a cough and chose to ignore it, even though it was tempting to remind the woman they were pretty much the same age. “You boys don’t really know me, but I hope the fact Coach McDonnell asked me to step in for him temporarily is enough for you as far as accepting me as part of the team.”