Scrimmage Gone South (Crimson Romance) (18 page)

And damn it all to hell again. They had Daryl between him and Coach Coal. On the other side of the podium, the senator was between Superintendent Margaret Rockwell and Principal Sydney Malone.

If he’d thought of it, he would have told somebody to fix it where he wouldn’t have to sit by Daryl, but when would he have had time to think of that? He had a game to win, plus he had exerted much time and energy trying to get his team in their beds at an appropriate time and — come to think of it — himself in Townshend’s bed. Not that it had worked out.

He shook hands down the line, pausing to hug Coach Coal, who, so long ago, had praised him when he deserved it and punished him when he had it coming. He had arrived this afternoon and Nathan hadn’t seen him yet.

Nathan whispered to him, “I would have preferred to sit by you.”

“I know you would, son, but we’ll catch up Saturday before I fly back. You won’t have a minute to spare until then.” They talked every few months, but Coach Coal had moved to Florida after his retirement, and they hadn’t seen each other in years. This was the first time he’d come back for Homecoming since his retirement. “Now you go suffer a fool.” He nodded toward Daryl. “It builds character.”

“Don’t remember you suffering many fools.”

The older man chuckled. “I want you to have more character than I do.”

“You’ll be with us on the sidelines Friday night, won’t you? Got a headset with your name on it.”

Coach Coal’s eyes misted. “I reckon you’ve done more fool suffering that I would have figured. I’d be honored.”

“All right, then.” He slid into his seat.

Suffer a fool. Suffer Townshend. He didn’t know which was worse.

Townshend might as well have been a burning bush, standing at the back of the room with the gaggle of mothers — she stood out that much. She was wearing an apron — bright blue with a big “7" on the front, along with the words “Proud Quarterback Mom.”

His dad had always served at this dinner when Nathan was in high school, had insisted. They hadn’t had aprons then, but all the mothers were wearing them now. Townshend was the only one wearing pearls. And what was that on her face? A bruise? His stomach bottomed out and he squinted to get a better look. Not a bruise. She had painted a bobcat paw on her cheek. A little tenderness shot through him. The other mothers always did that for the game, and she kept intending to and forgetting. Evidently, she’d thought of it today. Of course, she was the only one. She looked adorable and he had to remind himself that he was still mad at her. She wasn’t looking at him but he looked at his salad plate, in case she did. He certainly wasn’t going to look at her.

He didn’t look at Daryl either. He hadn’t seen or heard from him since the scene, though he’d heard plenty about it from sincere sympathizers, as well as
gossips hungry for a reaction. His response had been the same for everyone. “Daryl was upset. I appreciate that he came directly to me.” And that was all.

Mr. Malone rose and welcomed people and said a lot of good things about the team and a lot of stuff about Nathan that didn’t matter.

The principal made some joke about everyone being hungry and the Baptist minister rose from the Class of ’73 table to pray over the food. He prayed a long time. Baptists did that.

Nathan sneaked a peek at Townshend. Eyes closed, head bowed, like a good girl. Which reminded him. He looked at his team. Only a couple of them were looking around. He gave them the stink eye and they bowed their heads.

Maybe he ought to pray that Daryl wouldn’t try to cause another scene. But even if he tried, there would be no scene because Nathan simply would not participate. He still could not believe he had let himself be baited that night, when there was nothing he hated worse than loud public drama. He would have probably married Shelley Windley eight years ago if she hadn’t thrown a fit in a restaurant because they’d had the audacity to put dressing on her salad instead of bringing it on the side. Of course, they’d probably be divorced by now. Looking back, Shelly had been another Townshend clone, though he couldn’t see her in an apron at a high school dinner.

He sneaked another peek. Townshend was holding a tea pitcher. At least they weren’t going to turn her loose with a vat of soup. Not that they would have soup. These dinners were always the same — the salad that was already on the table. There would be a plate of chicken, some kind of rice, and some limp broccoli. Or it might be green beans. Then there would be a square of cake or cobbler. Her head was still bowed. She should set that pitcher down. It had to be heavy.

Oh, well. Not his business.

Finally, there was an amen. Nathan picked up his fork. Nothing like room temperature salad to get a man excited about his dinner. The only thing that would make it better was room temperature ranch dressing. He reached for it anyway.

“Iced tea, Coach?” asked a female voice, but it was the wrong voice. Sophomore running back Will Adcock’s mother. What was her name? Kimberly? Carol?

Daryl was talking to Coach Coal. Something about how Daryl went down to Florida a few times a year and they should go deep sea fishing.

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Adcock,” Nathan said.

“Call me Clair,” she said with a smile and moved on. So not Kimberly or Carol. Unless she was lying, which could be the case. Why would she? Who knew? Who had ever been able to figure out why a woman did anything? Or didn’t do something — like try not to mess in other people’s business.

Townshend was pouring tea in the back of the room. He wondered if she picked that job or if someone assigned it. And who did
someone
think she was to be assigning anything to Townshend? She was the parental figure of the QB-One and the girlfriend of the head coach. She should get to pick her own job.

Though she might
not
be the girlfriend of the head coach.

He stabbed a tomato.

Uh oh. There was a blazer arm waving in the air from one of the team tables. And it was attached to, of all people, Kirby. That boy had better not be motioning for service. Nathan half got out of his char, but then he saw Townshend, all smiles, headed toward his team. Kirby had just been saying hello. She lightly patted him on the shoulder and said something. All the boys in hearing distance laughed. Shaun Walters said something to her and she leaned in to give him her full attention. She pointed to the tea pitcher and shook her head no. Then she turned and motioned to the back of the room and Louisa Bennet headed that way with a gallon of milk. Well, good job, Townshend. He would catch her eye and give her a thumbs up. What could that hurt?

But she wouldn’t look at him. She patted Kirby lightly on the shoulder again and walked away smiling and pouring tea at other tables. Well, she was busy. No wonder she hadn’t noticed him trying to get her attention.

“So, Nathan,” Daryl said in his ear.

So it was
Nathan
now?

“Yes, Daryl,” he said tiredly.

“I am going to make you a deal.”

“Not looking to buy a car, Daryl.”

“And I’m not trying to sell you one.” Daryl ran his roll through the salad dressing on his plate. “I know we both said some things we didn’t mean the other night.”

“Yeah? Did we, now?”

“Sure did. It was an emotional night. We’d both been drinking.”

“I had
not
been drinking. I had had one sip of the only drink I had intended to have. Turns out, I didn’t get that.”
Because you pitched a fit.

“Well, well, whatever. What do you say, you unbench my boy for the Homecoming game, and I’ll just forget the whole thing.”

Nathan almost laughed that laugh that people do when they don’t know how else to react. Incredible.

Keith hadn’t come to clean the stadium Saturday morning and Nathan had gone looking for him. When he found the boy at the batting range, he was taking his anger out on a bunch of innocent baseballs. The kid had assumed he was kicked off the team and Nathan suspected he was also embarrassed because of his father’s behavior.

Though he sympathized, Nathan was no nursemaid and he had not gone all have a cup of tea and cookie on him. But he had shown the kid some kindness — at least he hoped he had — and talked some good sense to him. Then he’d just told him to get his butt to the stadium if he wanted to play football, and to expect to run an extra mile every day after practice next week.

And after careful consideration, he benched him for Homecoming. It was a little harsh, but Keith Grayson needed saving and this was the only way Nathan knew how to do it.

“No,” Nathan said quietly. “I will not unbench him. Keith gets it, even if you don’t.” Reba Clayton and Kate Chandler came by taking salad plates and passing out rubber chicken.

“Thank you. Looks delicious,” Nathan lied.

“Look.” Daryl was in full swing good old boy mode now. “It’s not fair to punish my son for my behavior.”

“I’m not.” Nathan peppered his food. Couldn’t hurt; might help. “If I was punishing him for your behavior, he would have turned in his uniform. I am punishing him for his behavior, even if you did egg him on. Unfortunately, I cannot kick you out of the booster club. But I will tell you this, Daryl, if you pitch a fit at this dinner and drawn attention to yourself, me, or — most especially — that boy, if you so much as raise your voice, I will do my best to kick your ass. If we are going to have a scene, it’s going to be one that will give me some satisfaction. But I suggest that you think about who should be the most important person in this room to you. And it’s not yourself.”

He narrowed his little pig eyes. “Nathan Scott, you are going to regret that you said that.”

“I might. And I might not. Regret is something I deal with on a regular basis. It hasn’t slowed me down yet.”

“Maybe I’ll just call off those scouts I’ve got coming from Tennessee and Auburn.”

“Maybe you will. And Kirby and every other boy on that team who has what it takes to get football scholarships will still get them.”

Without another word, Daryl turned his back and started talking to Coach Coal. Finally, Nathan could enjoy his rubber chicken in peace.

Ah, there was Townshend, sashaying around with her little pitcher. He would try again. He looked at her imploringly and held up his empty glass.

She nodded. Then she went over and tapped her tea pouring partner, Sondra Bowman, on the shoulder and pointed to Nathan. After that, she turned her back on him and went to the 1983 alum table.

“You wanted tea, Coach?” Sondra reached for his glass.

He sighed. “Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I want.”

Disney World might be the happiest place on earth for many, but Tolly’s vote went to Heavenly Confections. With its chocolate star ceiling and candy decorated walls, it had always been bright and fun, but since Lanie had married Luke, it was pure magic.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t any magic for Tolly today. Or much happiness.

She opened the door and the chimes played a few bars of “The Candy Man.” Lanie was keeping the shop open late for the parade and people were lined up three deep at the coffee bar.

“Miss Tolly!” Emma Avery barreled toward her. She was wearing a little bobcat costume.

“Oh, Emma. You are scary.” Tolly dropped to her heels to meet the child’s eyes.

“Rrrrr.” Emma growled and clawed the air. “Beau is wearing the same as me. And me and him is going to ride on a float with Beau’s mommy. She’s the queen of the float!” She shook her head back and forth. “I won’t fall off.”

“Well, that’s good news. I wouldn’t want you to fall off.”

“Hello, Tolly.” Luke Avery stepped up. “Emma. Missy is not really the queen of the float. She is riding on the float for all the former Homecoming queens.”

Emma bounced up and down. “She is the queen! And then me and Beau is going trick-or-treating.”

“Not tonight. Tonight, after the parade, we’ll go to the bonfire for a little while and see the cheerleaders do cheers. You will go to sleep two times before it’s time to go trick-or-treating,” Luke said patiently.

“Beau’s daddy is going to take pictures! You want to ride on the float, Miss Tolly? You can be the queen too.”

As if Missy would share her realm with anyone.

“That sounds like fun, Emma. But I’m going to stay here and watch the parade from the front window with your mommy and Miss Lucy.”

Emma threw her arms around Luke’s leg. “My daddy’s in the parade. He’s driving with the roof off.”

Tolly gave him a questioning look.

“Homecoming queen or something.” Luke shrugged. “They gathered up every convertible in town.”

“That would be the Homecoming court,” Tolly said. “We won’t know who the queen is until tomorrow night at half time.” Jamie Fisher was among the candidates. Tolly almost hoped she would win. It might distract her.

“You certainly are clued in to the doings at Merritt High School these days.” Luke laughed and stroked Emma’s curls.

“Oh, you have no idea. I have learned many, many things. Would you like to know what’s going on with the senior class play tryouts? Or perhaps the scandal of the new cheerleader uniforms for basketball season? The politics are astounding.”

“Ha! I think I’ll pass. But I would like to drop by your office next week, if that’s okay. I have a few personal legal matters I need to tie up and I’d like you to do it.”

“I am flattered, Judge Avery. Just call me.”

“Mommy!” Emma jumped up and down. “Here I am!”

Lanie’s happy laughter filled the air as she came out of the back wiping her hands on the towel tied to the waist of her candy corn festooned apron. Luke picked up Emma and they all landed in a little group cuddle and kiss.

They made it look so easy. But then, Luke Avery was a reasonable man with an even temper. If only Nathan could take some Luke lessons. She sighed. But then he wouldn’t be Nathan and that was the hell of it.

“Heavy sigh?” Lanie smiled at her. Luke and Emma were gone. Tolly hadn’t even noticed them leaving.

“Just tired,” she said. “But probably not as tired as you. I’m not pregnant and I haven’t been on my feet making candy all day.”

Lanie laughed. “It’s not as bad as all that, but I am ready to sit. Phillip saved us a place.” Lanie led her to a table by the window that had been set with a three tiered tea tray and carafe of coffee. But there were only two places set.