Homecoming (A Boys of Fall Novel) (7 page)

Kelly shook her head. “Trust me, every single resident of Stewart Mills knows you’re not allowed to have a hash omelet. Sam, are you ready for your first away game tonight?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I think we’re ready, though.”

“We’ll let you girls get back to your meeting,” Coach said. “Looking at your plates is just pissing me off even more about having to eat scrambled egg whites and skim milk.”

Once they were out of earshot, Kelly leaned across the table. “Okay, what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Sam wouldn’t look at each other. And there was tension. Like a rubber-band-about-to-snap kind of tension.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“And you’re lying.”

Jen pulled out her phone and pulled up her texting app.
We kissed in the gym atrium after practice last night.
She hit send and waited for Kelly’s phone to ding.

Her friend’s eyebrows rose when she read the message. Then she looked at Jen. “And?”

“That’s it.”

She texted again.
It ended a little awkwardly and we left separately.

Why are we texting?

Because he’s sitting right there.

“Way over there,” Kelly said out loud.

“Not far enough.”

“Are you going to the game tonight?”

Jen shook her head. “It’s an hour and a half drive each way. I wish there were more schools in our competition class with football teams because the travel’s crazy.”

“It’s an expensive sport, which we know all too well.”

“Are you going?”

“No. Chase isn’t going to want to drive all the way from New Jersey and then add another three hours on top of that to watch the game. If it was closer, maybe. And I have to work tomorrow.”

The Stewart Mills police force had been reduced to the chief, some support people and two officers—Kelly and Dylan Clark. That meant Kelly had to work a lot of weekends, even if Chase was in town.

“Chase knows Sam is back, right?”

“Of course. And Gretchen told me Alex should be back tomorrow morning, so Chase said he might organize a guys’ night out while I’m at work.”

“It’s too bad you have to work or we could do a girls’ night out at the same time.” As soon as she said the words, she thought about Kelsey Jordan’s observation that it seemed
logical for her—as the third of the female best friends—to hook up with the third of the male trio.

“You could hang out at Gretchen’s and I can swing by about break time. Maybe Gram’ll make us up some macaroni salad.”

Even though she was actually in the process of eating a meal, Jen’s mouth watered at the thought of Ida Walker’s famous macaroni salad. “You should text Gretchen.”

Ten minutes later, it was a plan, macaroni salad and all. Kelly grinned and put her phone away. “This is perfect. Maybe we should do this once a month. Send our guys out to the pizza house while we invade the farm and eat Gram’s cooking.”

Our guys.
Even Kelly was subconsciously falling prey to the assumption.
Whatever
, Jen said to herself. They could think whatever they wanted as long as there was macaroni salad involved.

—

D
uring the almost ninety-minute drive to another high school in their division, Sam had thought hell was being trapped on a school bus full of pumped-up teenage boys. But being trapped on a school bus full of teenage boys who’d played hard in the rain and lost by a missed field goal was so much worse.

Sitting up front, across the aisle from Dan and Joel, Sam listened to the chatter behind him and with every passing mile got more pissed off. Some of the players had stuck earbuds in their ears, cranked the music and checked out. But too many of them were rehashing the game and there was a lot more blame than he’d expected from this group.

“What kind of loser can’t kick a football twenty-three yards?”

“It was pouring, asshole.”

Sam heard rumblings about a fumble that happened in the third quarter, and a lot of crap being said about the defense not containing the run. Dissecting a game was one thing. But the guys were angry and they were taking it out on each other.

“If you can’t catch one of the slowest running backs in the state, maybe you should try out for the girls’ softball team next year,” he heard Hunter Cass snarl at somebody.

Sam stood and turned to face the rest of the bus, putting a hand on the back of the seat to keep his balance. “Hey! What the hell is going on?”

Silence fell immediately and they all looked at him with guilty eyes. The few that had earbuds in took them out and he had everybody’s attention.

“We have to win for Coach,” Hunter said, the anger in his voice tempered by sadness. “We
have
to.”

Sam understood the sentiment and probably would have felt the same way back when he was in high school. They were feeling the pressure of not letting down a guy they respected and loved. He got it. But Sam was the adult in this situation and keeping these kids on track was as much—if not more—his job than just being the guy on the sidelines calling plays.

“You
have
to win for Coach?” he challenged, sweeping them all with a questioning look.

“Coach doesn’t expect us to win every game,” Shawn said. He didn’t raise his voice but, as always, the other guys gave him their full attention. He stood and leaned against the window so he could see his teammates. “He expects us to give every game our best.”

When he fell silent and the quiet stretched out, Sam risked pushing him for more. This was the leadership he wanted to see from the kid. “And?”

“And he’d rather we lose as a team than win because we’re tearing each other down.” Shawn looked at Sam for a few seconds, and then turned back to his teammates. “We lost. We’ve lost before and we didn’t turn on each other. The only difference is that we wanted to win to honor Coach, but that isn’t how we do it. We honor Coach McDonnell by being the team he’s taught us to be.”

Life should come with a soundtrack, Sam thought, because the moment really needed a swell of dramatic music. “That’s the truth, guys. I know what Coach means to you. I don’t think anybody knows better than me what he means to you guys. Hell, here I am, a decade and a half later, and I still want to make him proud.”

“You made him proud,” Hunter said. “You won the championship.”

“Yeah, we did. We won the championship and the town went wild. A parade. That damn shrine in the lobby. They renamed Coach’s street to Eagles Lane. But I know in my heart if we’d fallen short that day, the town would have been disappointed, but Coach would still have been proud.”

There was no response to that, but a lot of them were nodding and they all looked thoughtful. That was probably enough for now. He gave a quick nod of thanks to Shawn and then sat down. After blowing out a frustrated breath, he took out his phone.

You busy?
He hit send before he could change his mind.

Jen responded almost immediately.
No. Everything okay?

Lost by 3.

I heard. How are they taking it?

What he really wanted to do was call her. He missed the sound of her voice. That gave him pause, though, because maybe she’d been right. Here he was having a rough night again and his first instinct was to reach out to Jen.

He didn’t believe that made her any kind of comfort object he was using to make himself feel better, though. She was simply the person he wanted to turn to when he was having a rough day. Maybe he didn’t have a lot of experience with healthy relationships, but he was pretty sure that was supposed to be a good thing.

Well, a good thing if they were actually going to
have
a relationship. But he wasn’t going to be in New Hampshire long enough to make that kind of commitment, and he wasn’t staying. She wouldn’t leave here. Even if he was her type, which he wasn’t, it was a moot point.

Not well.
He debated on how much he wanted to type, then added to the text.
Blame and anger and some harsh words for each other. But I stepped in and then Shawn took over. Gave them a pep talk.

Good.
A moment later another text followed.
I’m sorry this was your first game with them. Are you okay?

He wasn’t sure about okay, but he felt better now.
I’m okay. And they’ll bounce back. Just wanted you to know they had a rough night.

Are you home yet?

No, we’re on the bus.
He wondered why she asked. Did she want to see him?

Too bad. Sometimes talking on the phone is easier than texting.

So much for wanting to see him. But texting was okay, too. At least she was talking to him. After the awkwardness between them at O’Rourke’s that morning, he was afraid he’d blown it. Blown what, he wasn’t sure, since he wasn’t even sure what they were doing, but he knew he didn’t want her avoiding him.

He realized he should respond to her text.
I’ll let them have the weekend to calm down and do some thinking and we’ll regroup. If I think they’re still off heading into homecoming, I’ll bring Coach into it.

That’s a good plan. Touch base with me Monday if you think there are any particular issues.

Okay. Have a good weekend.

Good night.

He put his phone away and sighed.
Touch base with me on Monday . . .
If that wasn’t all business, he wasn’t sure what was. For a woman whose job it was to help teenagers and their parents navigate high school and get ready for college, she sure had a way of messing with a man’s mind.

S
am met Alex and Chase at the Stewart Mills House of Pizza on Saturday night, more than ready to talk to men who weren’t flailing their way through adolescence. They’d invited Deck, but he’d already committed to getting a sitter and taking Cheryl to the city to watch a movie, so it was just the three of them.

He’d thought about calling Mrs. McDonnell and getting permission to bring Coach, but he changed his mind before he made the call. As much as he loved Coach, that would be kind of like taking your dad along on a guys’ night. You still have a good time, but you can’t talk about anything you wouldn’t want your mom—or in his case, Mrs. McDonnell—to know.

He was the last to arrive, so the first thing they did was
order two pizzas and a basket of fries. Sam grabbed a soda, while Alex and Chase ordered a pitcher of beer.

The young man working the counter gave Chase a nervous look. “I, uh . . . your girlfriend called. Officer McDonnell, I mean. She said one pitcher has to last you the whole night and then you have to switch to soda.”

Sam didn’t even try to disguise his snort of laughter with a cough. While his two cohorts were probably too drunk to remember it, the last time they’d had multiple pitchers of beer was during Eagles Fest. They’d decided to break into the high school to see the trophy they’d won a decade and a half before, and Officer McDonnell had busted them.

Chase shook his head at the pizza guy. “I think that’s a serious abuse of power on her part. The police department can’t dictate the beverage choices of citizens unless laws are broken.”

“Officer McDonnell is also sponsoring my half marathon next month,” the guy continued.

“Bribery.” Alex slapped Chase on the back. “She’s good.”

They brought their drinks to a table and made themselves comfortable. The place was close to full, which wasn’t surprising for a Saturday night. While a lot of people preferred takeout, there was only so much to do in Stewart Mills, and the pizza house had two arcade games in a side room.

They talked about the football team for a while, before Sam finally held up a hand. “You know what? I’ve had enough football for this week. They’re good. Coach is good. Everything’s good.”

“How’s the plumbing business going?” Chase suggested. “I know he’s had somebody coming up from the city, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be helping out.”

“I’m an electrician, not a plumber.” Sam laughed. “And I’m hoping to avoid getting roped into anything that requires going back to school again.”

“I’d make a joke about not knowing plumbers went to school,” Chase said, “but plumber jokes are only funny if there’s a plumber in the room.”

“What’s going on with you?” Sam asked. “How much longer do you have in New Jersey?”

“Not much longer, actually. I’m hoping to have everything wrapped up by Thanksgiving.” He smiled, and it was the smile of a man who was pretty damn happy with his life. “Then I’ll be home and Kelly and I can get started on our future.”

Sam looked from Chase to Alex. “You guys aren’t going to get sucked into some goofy double wedding thing, are you?”

“No,” they said together.

“Besides,” Alex said, “you know if Gretchen and Kelly have their way, it’ll be a goofy
triple
wedding.”

“Three best friends marrying three best friends,” Chase said. “Trust me, I’ve heard it.”

“So have I,” Sam said. “It’s not going to happen.”

And he really hoped nobody was sitting close enough to hear them. The volume level was pretty high, though, since the jukebox was on and everybody was trying to talk over it. He didn’t see any faces that set off gossip alarm bells, and nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, anyway.

Chase leaned closer. “I don’t get it. I’ve heard the chemistry between you guys like literally sparks.”

“Who the hell did you hear that from?”

“People.”

“I can’t handle somebody like Jen in my life right now.”

Alex snorted. “You mean somebody attractive, intelligent, good with kids and—judging by the look you get on your face every time you talk about her—somebody who you’d like to see naked on a regular basis?”

“I mean somebody who totally has her shit together.”

“The horror,” Chase said.

“I’m serious. She comes from a normal family. She has a great job and, from what I’ve heard, a nice house. She doesn’t have any baggage and she deserves a guy who’s like her, you know? Like a teacher or an accountant or something. They’ll have perfect little kids who are smart and pretty like them.”

“You’re an idiot,” Alex said.

Chase held up a hand. “Not that I disagree with Alex on that fundamental point, but I do kind of get where you’re coming from. You guys know when I came here for Eagles Fest, my life was a mess. My business partner took off with our money, not that there was much left of it. And my girlfriend left me for some other guy. I basically had no business and no place to live.”

“You have a nice truck, though,” Sam said.

“Never underestimate having a good truck,” Chase agreed. “Anyway. Kelly wanted her life all neat and tidy and I was a total shit show and in the end it didn’t matter because—”

“If you say love conquers all, I’m throwing something at you,” Sam interrupted.

“I was going to say because I’m great in the sack.”

“Sure. And none of it matters because as soon as Coach takes his whistle back, I’m getting in my truck and going back to Texas.”

“Coach Leavitt,” the pizza guy yelled from behind the counter. “Your pizzas are ready!”

Sam heard the name, and he let it sink in for a few seconds. The boys on the team had called him that a couple of times, but that seemed different somehow. When he was in the Eagles polo shirt with the whistle around his neck, he was the substitute coach and it made sense.

But hearing it out in public, from a guy he didn’t know, touched him. It was nice to have an identity in his hometown that had absolutely nothing to do with his parents. Even when people talked about the championship football team, his role as quarterback was more often than not tied to his childhood because it made for a feel-good story.

They dug into the pizza and fries, catching up while they ate. Alex told them about a project he was considering, taking photos of a recently renovated ski area for their promotional campaigns.

“Advertising pictures?” Chase asked. “No offense, but isn’t that kind of a step down for you?”

“I don’t consider commercial work a step down. A lot of photographers have to balance their art and needing to pay the bills. And I certainly wasn’t working for free before, awards or no awards. Besides, being home with Gretchen and Gram is more important to me.”

“And Cocoa,” Chase added, and Alex gave him a high five.

Sam popped a fry into his mouth, chuckling. He hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the chocolate Lab yet, but he’d heard a lot about her.

Chase looked around at their fellow customers. “I wonder if we can talk somebody at one of the other tables into getting us another pitcher of beer.”

—

J
en was late getting to Gretchen’s, and she hoped like hell the others hadn’t eaten all the macaroni salad. Her mom had called, though, and it had been a while since they talked, so she didn’t send her to voice mail.

All was well with the Cooper family. It still struck Jen as ironic that her parents fell in love with the southwestern corner of the state when she went off to college in Keene. They’d made the move her junior year since her brother was accepted to a college only an hour from hers, and then she’d turned around and gotten the job back in Stewart Mills.

Her brother was married now, with two small children, and her parents had bought an antiques store instead of finding office jobs in their prior fields. They were all content, except for missing Jen. She hadn’t gotten down to visit as often as she usually did during the summer break because of Eagles Fest.

Once she was finally off the phone, she drove to the Walker farm at maybe just a few miles over the speed limit, and parked behind Gretchen’s truck. Kelly’s cruiser was in the drive, too, and Jen hoped she hadn’t been there long.

They were laughing when she walked into the kitchen after high-fiving Cocoa on her way through the living room. “What’s so funny?”

“Jen! You made it.” Gram left whatever she was doing at the counter and walked over to give her a hug.

Ida Walker was like a grandmother to all three of them and since Jen’s family had moved, she and Mrs. McDonnell usually filled in when Jen needed maternal advice or love in person.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “My mom called.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Really well. They all are.”

“We already ate all the macaroni salad,” Kelly said. She was in uniform, sitting at the table across from Gretchen.

Jen stopped halfway across the kitchen. “No, you did not.”

“Kelly Ann McDonnell,” Gram chided. “Since you’re being mean, you can serve everybody. Cocoa and I are going to go watch some television and let you girls visit.”

“How’s your dad?” Gretchen asked once they each had a bowl of macaroni salad, and Kelly rolled her eyes.

“He’s driving my mother crazy, so she’s driving
me
crazy. He’s the worst patient ever.”

“I was going to call and see if he wanted to go on some pumpkin deliveries with me just to ride in the truck and see some people, but I think he would have tried to take over the unloading for me because watching me work wouldn’t sit well with him.”

“He doesn’t seem to grasp that his personality is the reason Mom has such a tight leash on him. If we could trust that he’d settle for being out of the house, she probably wouldn’t mind. But you’re right. He’d jump into whatever was going on and probably end up back in the hospital.”

“That sounds like Coach,” Gretchen said.

Jen held up a forkful of macaroni salad. “I almost feel sorry for the guys, having to make do with pizza while we have this.”

“I’m glad they’ll all be here for homecoming,” Kelly said. “It only seems fair since they’re a big reason we even get to
have
it this year. Plus, I love seeing them together. I feel like
we’re all a big family coming back together, the way it’s supposed to be. We even have the guys convinced we want a double wedding.”

Gretchen laughed. “Actually, we have them convinced we’re after a triple wedding.”

“Don’t even start,” Jen said with a sigh.

She couldn’t even imagine what Sam would think if the other two guys started talking about a triple wedding. Since she’d so often heard the assumption she’d hook up with Sam, she had to assume he’d heard it, too. But—sex on the hood of the car notwithstanding—they hadn’t managed a kiss without it being awkward after. Marriage was too big a jump even if he wasn’t planning to leave town again.

“We’re not even having a double wedding, so it’s just a joke to mess with their heads,” Kelly said. “Besides, one of us just wants to go to the town hall.”

Jen looked at Gretchen, but she was surprised when she nodded her head back toward Kelly. “You’re kidding.”

Kelly shrugged. “You know I’m way too practical to spend who knows how many thousands of dollars on a party.”

“Not a party. Your wedding.”

“The marriage part is a legal document. The wedding itself is just a party to celebrate the legal document.”

“What about Coach and your mom? Will they be disappointed?”

“We did the whole thing the first time, with the gown and the walking me down the aisle and the tears. It didn’t stick. I’d rather hit town hall, have a barbecue in the backyard and then spend that money on something else.”

Jen shook her head. “I would have guessed it was you, Gretchen, who’d want to skip the gown and the flowers.”

She shrugged. “Remember when you guys dressed me up to go to that fancy function with Alex? I kind of liked that. Not all the time, but one princess day would be fun.”

“It would be awesome,” Jen agreed. “But based on your day-to-day fashion sense, Kelly and I get to pick our own bridesmaid dresses.”

Kelly laughed. “Does the feed store have a formalwear section?”

“Hey! I’m a farmer. Leave me alone.”

“What kind of wedding do you want, Jen?” Kelly asked. “When you find Mr. Right, of course. Who I think you’ve found but are pretending you haven’t for reasons you can’t seem to articulate.”

“Really?” Jen gave her a look. “If and when I get married, I’ll do the dress and flowers and fancy cake thing, but on a reasonable scale. My mom would be disappointed if she missed out on any of the mother-of-the-bride glory.”

“Remember when we were young and would talk about the weddings we’d have someday?” Kelly said.

Gretchen snorted. “I think there have been royal coronations with less pageantry than we had planned.”

Jen remembered the many hours they’d spent as teenagers talking about their future weddings. And their future husbands. Her Prince Charming always wore nice sweaters and could quote book passages and knew how wine tastings worked. She wasn’t sure why the wine tasting mattered, except that she’d seen them on TV and they looked very sophisticated.

But now when she thought about her future, she couldn’t help but picture the man with rough hands and the faded T-shirts. His book quotes were plays from the football
playbook and he didn’t drink because his childhood had been a nightmare.

No, Sam wasn’t a man she would ever have daydreamed about actually marrying when she was younger. The adult her, though, spent so much time daydreaming—and night dreaming—about him, she wasn’t sure she thought about anything
but
him anymore.

“Earth to Jen.”

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked at Kelly. “What?”

“I asked what you’re wearing to the homecoming dance.”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll just grab something out of my closet.” Something that was tasteful, but would still knock Sam’s socks off. “It’s not really about us, anyway. We’re just the invisible chaperones. Half the staff members there will be in jeans.”

“I’ll be in uniform,” Kelly said, not sounding happy about it. “But maybe I’ll throw on some glittery lip gloss.”