Love Lifted Me (36 page)

“Don't bother yourself with the details, friend. But you know what they say, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

“I've been chewing on that notion myself these days.” Chevy looked up, and Bobby flinched at the courage he saw in his principal's beady eyes.

“Is Benson ready? All he has to do is resign and thank all the appropriate people. Blah, blah and everyone's happy.”

“You know, you can't live a good life chasing the ghost of your dead daddy.”

“Don't get all pop-psych on me, Chevy. This is my time. Coaching Warrior football has always been my destiny. And I finally found my way in.” He arched his brow. Dumb Chevy.

“You're not a good coach, Bob. Plano didn't teach you anything?”

“It was my word against his.”

“You're rigid. You don't like change. You're too controlling. Boys fear you but they don't respect you.”

“They will when we start winning games.”

“Remember when we went out this summer, after school let out?”

Where was he going with this? Bobby grinned. “You had one too many and decided to drive home? Got pulled over by a cop who called me instead of hauling you in. Yeah, I remember.”

“Yeah, that was one time. I mean, the week before when I drove you home because you had more than a few too many.”

Bobby furrowed his brow. “You helped me inside to the couch so Fiona wouldn't know how bad I was. Or so you told me.” Where was this line of questioning going? “What does this have to do with the press conference?”

“You told me you hit the kid in Plano because he ticked you off. Provoked you.”

“He was a crybaby. A whiner.” Bobby pictured the skinny kid trying to make the varsity cut. “Had no athletic ability. For a black boy, you'd think he could at least run.”

“That's why I can't let you coach, Bob.”

“You have no choice. If Benson doesn't resign, I'm outing him and implicating you for hiring him. And if I need to, I'll put out my principal-got-pulled-over-for-DUI card.”

“Either way, we're going to end this, Bobby. I should've sat on you a long time ago but I wanted to give credence to our friendship.” Chevy held up an iPhone. “Benson lent this to me. Here's my insurance policy. Some of the folks might like to know how you really feel about kids trying to learn football. Especially young black kids. In your own words, of course. It's the twenty-first century, Bobby. Not the sixties of your granddaddy's day. And I have Rick on here telling me how you gave him the pills to plant in Max's office.”

“You can't do this to me, Chevy.” Bobby launched out of his chair. “That job is mine. Mine. The Molnar legacy. This is my last chance.”

“No, this is your last chance. You can resign or I can fire you. Rick's waiting outside to corroborate everything if I need it.”

Bobby shook, his hand clinching and releasing. “You two are supposed to be my friends.”

“We are. Consider this an intervention. Now, we're going to go out there and have a press conference. I'm going to keep this quiet, and you're going to shut up about my DUI.”

“Why have a press conference? There's nothing to say.”

“I'll be naming Max Benson our head football coach for the next year with ongoing conversations the next five years. I'm also announcing my search for a new athletic director.”

“Just like that, you're firing me?”

“No, Bobby, I'm actually setting you free. Go, get out of Colby, away from the ghost of your daddy. Your memories of him are far more glorious than the truth. He's gone. You don't need his approval anymore.”

“You fire me, I'm taking you down with me. I'll report the DUI.”

“I figured as much. I already have a call into the district supervisor. I'm tired of living in fear someone will find out.” Chevy moved toward the door.

“Now, do you want me to say you're leaving to pursue other opportunities or because you tried to frame Max?”

Thirty-two

Under the lights of the Amarillo Sandies stadium, the Warriors played their last and best game. The stands rocked with red and gold Warrior fans. The pep band beat the air with their rhythms.

Noah and Calvin clicked on play after play. Max's weaker skill players found their stride, especially sophomore tight end Grant Strickland, who broke free on his first play and ran forty-two yards for the Warriors' first six.

Tucker easily made the point after. The grin on his face and the power in his stride as he came off the field would live in Max's memory for a long time.

But it was fourth quarter. Two minutes to go, 23–21. The Sandies led by two.

Second down, Calvin caught a pass that led the Warriors to the Sandies' six yard line. The stands rocked and waved. Air horns blasted. Drumbeats sounded.

Max signaled in a run. The Sandies were weak on the left side and he was going to send Calvin through into the end zone.

The ref 's whistle blew and Noah took the snap, handing off to Calvin.

Max's pulse surged. Just six yards . . . six little yards.

Fumble. Max jerked upright. Calvin . . .
dropped the ball
. Every player on the field was scrambling. Black and gold tussling against red and gold. An anxious knot weaved through Max as he waited for the refs to clear the pile. When they did, a lone Warrior guard lay on the ground, curled around the ball.

“Yes. Way to hustle.” Max ran down the sideline. “Haywood, way to go.

Now, let's hang on to it this time.”

“My heart darn near stopped beating,” Hines mumbled as he walked past.

“I think mine did,” Max said, shoving his hat back on his head. “Twice.”

The boys ran toward the sideline, defeated under their helmets.

“Let's go, run, shake it off.” Max stepped onto the field. “There's still a minute forty to play. We're not done yet.”

“What do you want to do, Max?” Coach Hines scanned his play card.

“Tucker's been hitting all night.”

Now it was fourth and twelve. Tuck stood next to Max, ready to go. But there was more than enough time for the best team in the district to defeat the worst.

It was a repeat of last week against Lubbock. Except . . .

“I say we go for six. The Sandies won't be able to beat us with a field goal.”

Max looked at Tucker. “Want to give Calvin and Noah another shot?”

“Let's go for six.”

“We can do it, Coach.” Calvin clapped Tucker on the shoulder pads and snapped on his helmet. “I won't drop it. I won't.”

“I know you won't.” Max scanned his play card. He called a pass. “Calvin, you run straight for that flag just inside the goal line. Noah, you put it right over his shoulder. Warriors on three. One, two, three.”

“Warriors!”

Max glanced back at Jade—she gave him two thumbs-up—then he scanned down the row for Asa. Dr. Gelman held him, helping him wave his Warrior flag. Asa already had a way with the ladies.

On the field, the offense lined up. The whistles blew. The clock started ticking. Expectation weighted the air. Noah called for the snap. The Sandies defense shifted.

“Blitz,” Max called. “They're blitzing.”

But Noah was poised and perfect, undaunted by the swell of black and gold coming toward him. Calvin blew past their cornerback and cut toward the left end zone marker. Noah released the ball. A beautiful, spinning spiral.

Calvin looked back. Max dropped to one knee. Eyes fixed on the left end zone flag.
Come on, Calvin, come on
. Calvin stretched for the ball.

It hit his fingertips and bounced, twirling end over end above his hands. Max dropped his head as Calvin tripped and stumbled.

The throw couldn't have been any better. It just didn't hit.

When he looked up, the Sandies' defenders were closing in. Calvin caught his stride and remained upright. Just before the ball hit the ground, he reached one-handed and pulled it in. By the time he hit the field, he had control of the football and his right foot anchored in bounds.

The ref 's arms shot into the air. Touchdown. Touch! Down! Max launched out of his crouched position, firing onto the field, racing arms wide toward Calvin. The stands exploded with Warrior pride—a deafening noise.

“Coach, coach—” Calvin jumped into Max, nearly knocking him over. But Max held on, amid the throng of celebrating players, yelling from the bottom of his being.

“That's the way to play Warrior football.”

The Sandies' offense didn't have a chance. Quick and accurate, they'd lost their momentum. No way would Haley's D let the team down.

When the clock ran out, the score said it all. Home: 23. Visitors: 28.

The Warriors had won their first game in two seasons with greenhorn

Maxwell Benson as their head coach. Even the Sandies had to celebrate with them. The stadium shook and shimmied. Both teams knelt to say the Lord's Prayer. Then the Warriors ran, celebrating, to their buses for home.

Max was pretty sure none of their feet touched the ground.

Sleep. What sleep?

“You awake?” Jade rolled on her side, resting her hand on her growing middle. Baby girl B had stopped being submissive to baby girl A about a week ago and it was an all-out war in there.

“Who can sleep?”

“You won, Max. You won.”

“I keep going over everything in my mind. I know how it feels to lose. I've relived those moments, on and off the field, plenty of times. But this . . .” His smiled parted the darkness in the room. “Is amazing.”

“I knew tonight was going to be different. Chevy stood up to Bobby. He got rid of the bad seed. These last few years Bobby brought the whole program down, Max. When Chevy let him run amuck, no one succeeded.”

“Run amuck?”

Jade shoved him. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. After the press conference it felt different. Did it to you?” Max reached over, finding Jade's hand in the dark.

“Yeah, but I felt bad for him. He's just trying to fulfill his dreams.”

“Chevy said his old man was pretty hard on him. He thinks leaving Colby High is the best thing for him.”

“Where's he going?”

“Not sure. But I've been praying about getting a lunch with him, checking in, seeing how he's doing.”

“I can't imagine how he feels, Max. In his mind, his friends Chevy and Rick betrayed him. Just when he thought they were in his corner. Instead of being coach, he's unemployed.”

“I feel for him too, but he made the decisions that got him in trouble. Just like I did, Jade. I had to live out the consequences and it made me get on my knees before the Lord and get real. If Bobby runs headlong into Jesus, he'll look back on this day with gratitude.”

“Are you happy, Max?”

“Yeah. Very. You?”

“Isn't it obvious? I can't stop smiling. I go to sleep smiling, I wake up smiling.”

“How do you feel about living in Colby for the rest of your life? Or the next twenty years, anyway.”

“I love Colby, Max. It's where we found each other, where the girls were conceived. Where we met Tucker. Did I tell you Brenda Karlin somehow got into Polly Vance's attic with all her vintage clothes?”

“R-really? How'd you find out?”

“She told me. She's been having tea with Mrs. Vance for months. Every Sunday. The old lady asked her what she wanted and she said a peek at the closet. So she told her she could have whatever she wanted.”

“Wow, babe.” Max squeezed her hand. “Didn't you want something from that closet?”

“Ha, I did.”
Ppffllbbttt
. “I can't wear it now. A little black dress? Even if I could fit into it, these two would fight over it, calling dibs. Listen, I think we need to write out rules and discipline for these two. They're going to be terrors.”

“They're going to be beautiful,” Max said. “Perfect angels.”

“Sure, okay, hold on to that fantasy.”

“So, Brenda . . . ?”

“She found a storefront and wants to open a vintage shop. She asked me to help get it started. Guess who will be her main employee?”

“Bit?”

“No, but good try. Mariah Walberg.”

Max hummed. “Good for Brenda. Mariah needs someone to believe in her.

So, you don't want the little black dress? You won't always be pregnant.”

“I asked her about it and she said she promised it to someone already.” Jade sighed. She would've loved that little black dress. “Maybe I can convince Brenda I need the dress more. Or ask who she promised it to and see if they'll sell it.”