Scrimmage Gone South (Crimson Romance) (8 page)

“I guess I was a little loud.”

“Why are the two of you fighting?”

“You heard. Kirby Lawson has lost weight he can’t afford to lose and she isn’t feeding him right.”

“No. That’s what you were fighting
about
. Not
why
.”

“She’s not going to watch him play ball.”

“Does every parent of every boy on your team come to the games?” It was a rhetorical question. Lou Anne knew better than he did that there was more than one Merritt Bobcat who’d never had a parent root for him and never would. “Are you going to visit around now and straighten them all out?”

“It wouldn’t do any good.”

“Tolly’s a good woman. She’s done a great thing for Kirby. She’s got to find her way. My guess is you are trying to make her pay for what Arianna did to you.”

Arianna.
“I can assure you that what I think of my mother has nothing to do with my opinion of Townshend. In fact, I don’t even think about her.”

“Arianna was addicted to the limelight. That’s what drew her to your daddy in the first place.”

“Yeah, I know all about it.”

Lou Anne’s eyes widened. “Richard told you?”

“No. She did. Arianna.” Normally, he would have refused to respond to any reference to his mother, but it got Lou Anne off the subject of everyone’s favorite debutante lawyer and saver of orphans, so it was a small price to pay. And he wouldn’t have to pay it long. He was in control of his coming and goings.

“You are in contact with her?” Lou Anne looked horrified.

“No. I was for a short time during my senior year.” Nathan had spent a lot of time on the phone that fall — with Arianna, with Townshend, with sports agents begging to represent him. And it had all stopped at once.

Lou Anne’s face blanched and Nathan knew she was wondering how much he knew. The answer to that was too much and not enough.

Not that he cared. Arianna was not a factor in his life, never had been.

“Gotta go. Practice.” He picked up the milkshake that he knew better than to offer to pay for and controlled his going.

But not before Lou Anne got the last word. “Nathan, lighten up on Tolly.”

“Yes, ma’am.” But Lou Anne didn’t know that Townshend had been just as addicted to the limelight as Arianna had been.

Tolly settled down with a cup of coffee and the bright blue shopping bag. She tossed the rah-rah kit to the other end of the sofa. She had already put out the yard sign and stuck the magnet on her car, but she wouldn’t need the shirt, button, stadium seat, and pompoms. The fat manila envelope labeled “parent packet” was at the bottom of the bag. Summer schedule. That was past. Calendar of events. Practice schedule. Rules and academic requirements. List of booster club officers. Ah, there — the holy nutrition plan, according to the Pope of football, Nathan Scott.

It was written in paragraph form. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, pre workout snack, post workout snack, post game meal — it went on and on and on. Four ounces of this, six ounces of that, plenty of water, no energy drinks, only this sports drink, make sure it’s whey protein powder — her head began to pound. Clearly, Nathan had typed this himself, as it came into his head. No one with any organizational skills would have produced a document so hard to follow. What the hell was whey protein powder anyway? Tomorrow, she’d retype this information in chart form but for now she needed a grocery list. She picked up a legal pad and began to write. What kind of milk? Did it say skim? That didn’t make sense since Nathan wanted Kirby to gain some weight.

She had filled one column with things to buy and started on a second when the door opened.

“Hi, Miss Tolly.” Kirby sat down across from her and tossed his backpack and the blue drawstring mesh bag that held his practice clothes on the floor beside him.

“Hi, Kirby.” Tolly flipped a few pages back to the choices for post workout snack. “Let’s see. You’re supposed to have a protein smoothie and a banana,” she read, “or some peanut butter on a whole wheat bagel and a glass of skim milk.”

“It’s okay. I already had it. They give it to us after we shower.”

“That’s good,” she said, “because we don’t have any of that stuff except maybe the peanut butter. But we will.” She held up the legal pad.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“No, it really isn’t, Kirby. I ran into Nathan today. He mentioned that you aren’t eating correctly.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You can’t eat what’s not available to you. I am sorry that you have not been getting enough to eat.”

“It’s not like I’ve been hungry.”

“But you knew you weren’t eating right, didn’t you?”

“I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders.

She sighed. “Okay, Kirby, here’s the thing. I promised to take care of you but you’ve got to help me. If this is going to work, you have to tell me when you need something. I don’t know how to do this.
We
don’t know how to do it. We’ve got to figure it out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, there are lots of choices for what you are supposed to eat. Look at this and tell me what you like and what you don’t.”

He took the papers from her and flipped through. “I like most things but not salmon and not tuna. And I’d rather not have any beets.”

“Okay. That’s simple enough. What do you especially like?”

“I like chili made with turkey. You can’t even tell. And green beans. Chicken pot pie. And I know how to make those smoothies for myself. I like them with peaches and bananas. Not blueberries. I don’t mind eating blueberries, but when you put them in a smoothie it turns all gray looking.”

“Good.” She added to her list. Missy could teach her to make chili and pot pie.

“Okay. Only — ” He looked at the floor.

“What?”

“To make smoothies you have to have a blender. I’m pretty sure my aunt took mine and I haven’t seen one here.”

“Okay!” Tolly added it to her list. “One blender coming up. See how easy that was?”

Kirby blushed. It had not been easy at all.

“What else do you need? For football, or not. Anything?”

“I’m good.”

“Kirby. Don’t tell me that. There is bound to be something you need.”

“Well … ” He blushed. “We’re supposed to reading
The Great Gatsby
in English and I was going to wait until I get paid next week to get it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We can get the book tonight, sweetie. Creekview Books is open until nine. I don’t want you spending your money on necessities. You hardly make enough to take a girl to a movie and buy a hamburger. Though, I’m not sure if you’re supposed to have a hamburger.” She took the papers from Kirby and flipped through them.

He smiled. “I can have fast food twice a week as long as it doesn’t replace a real meal. And I’m between girls.” The mood was lighter but he was still embarrassed.

“I thought you were dating Lauren Kilpatrick.”

He shrugged. “I was. Then we just kind of stopped. She came to the funeral and all. Her parents sent some nice flowers. I think she might want to go out again but it’s like I don’t have room for it right now. You know?”

Tolly nodded, though she really didn’t know. “You’re almost a man, aren’t you? It’s going to be hard for you to ask me for things, isn’t it?”

He looked at the floor again. “I guess. You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Like what? Starve you? You’ll get past the not asking. But, until then, how about this? I’ll put a pad on the refrigerator. When you need something, write it there and I’ll get it. How’s that?”

“That might work.” He hesitated.

“What? Kirby, I’m a lawyer. I can read minds. I know you want to ask me something.”

“Yeah. I’ve wondered. How do we get clean clothes? There’s no washing machine or dryer here.”

“Rosemary Jackson comes in and cleans every Friday. As soon as she gets here, she takes the dirty clothes and linens to the drop off laundry. When she finishes cleaning, she picks them up and puts them away. So on Thursday nights, if you’ll make sure that all your dirty clothes are in the hamper, you won’t need to worry about it at all.” She was going to need to give Rosemary a raise.

“Oh.” Clearly, this was not good news for him.

“Kirby, what is it?”

“I only have two sets of practice clothes. I’m supposed to wear clean ones every day. Something about fungus. And then there’s the smell. I kind of got in trouble today for having stinky practice clothes.”

Which meant
she
was in trouble. Splendid.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to buy you enough practice clothes to get you through the week.”

“That won’t really work. The clothes are issued to us. Coach says we should be glad to have two sets. When he played, they only had one and he had to wash them himself every night.”

“Poor Coach. Well, I guess we’ll stop by the self service laundry tonight when we go to the bookstore. And this weekend, we’ll see about getting a washer and dryer.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve spent enough at the drop off to have bought a set anyway. I’ve just been too lazy. And I’ll tell you what else we’re going to do this weekend. We’re going to go through your clothes and decide what we need to buy for winter. And we are going to talk about your social life and decide what is a reasonable allowance for you.”

“Oh, Miss Tolly, I can’t — ”

“Hush, Kirby. If you were going to be where no one was going to take care of you, you might as well have gone to Ohio. I’m going to screw up. So are you. But we’re also going to figure this out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is there anything else that you need immediately? Anything we need to get tonight?”

“No. Only — ” His eyes wandered to the rah-rah paraphernalia on the sofa. “I just want to say that I know you didn’t used to go to games and I didn’t expect it. But it means a lot that you got that stuff.” He gestured to the pile of blue and gold. “I’m glad you’re going to come and see me play — that there’ll be somebody there for me like the other guys, you know. Wearing that shirt and all.”

Oh, no. Anything but that. Anything.

“Kirby, I — ” But she couldn’t say it, couldn’t look into his eyes and tell him he was mistaken, that she would not be coming to watch him play.

“Yes?” He smiled a sweet smile and he wasn’t embarrassed at all anymore.

“Uh … I know I’m not your mother. Not your grandmother. But is there anything else that the other guys’ moms do? Other than go to the games and make cookies?”

“Well. You probably can’t do this because you have to be at work but lots of parents come to the pep rallies.”

She took out her iPhone. “And that’s when?”

“Fridays at 2:15.”

She punched it in. “I’ll be there if I’m not in court.”

“Really?”

“Really. What do the other guys’ moms wear to pep rallies?” His eyes drifted to the shirt. Well, of course.

Not only was she was going to a football game, she was going to a pep rally. And she was going tricked out like the biggest supporter who’d ever lived.

Fabulous.

“Come on.” She stood up. “Let’s do our errands and get some dinner so you can do your homework. You’re probably already behind on
The Great Gatsby
.”

• • •

After parking at the high school, Tolly threw her blazer in the backseat and jerked the rah-rah shirt on over her silk blouse. Because she always wanted to know exactly what was going to happen to her, she had thoroughly interrogated Kirby about what would go on at this pep rally. According to him, there would be a section of bleachers in the gym reserved for parents — who would be mostly mothers — and, though this part was not dictated, the band parents always sat at the top, the cheerleaders’ parents in the middle, with players’ parents — where Tolly would sit — in front. For the first ten minutes, the band would play and the cheerleaders and majorettes would dance. Kirby wasn’t sure what else went on before he made his entrance with the team.

She was late, but if she hurried, she’d make it before the team came in. The band was playing “Mr. Touchdown” and Tolly looked past the dancing cheerleaders to the section of rah-rah shirts. Sondra Bowman waved and motioned for the other women to move closer together to make room for Tolly.

“Thanks, Sondra. I had a client who would not leave.”

“No problem.” Sondra was a pretty woman with dark amber skin and a friendly smile. Her son, Marcus, played left guard and it was his primary job to protect the quarterback — Kirby — after the ball was snapped. “Glad to see you here. You’re a good woman for what you’re doing for that boy.”

“Not really,” Tolly said. “Kirby is the good one. No trouble at all.”

Sondra laughed. “There hasn’t been a teenage boy invented who’s not trouble of some kind. But Kirby is a sweet boy. I’ll grant you that. He and Marcus have played together in their same positions since seventh grade and Kirby always thanks Marcus for protecting him. Look.” Sondra pointed to the north door. “Here they come.”

Nathan stepped inside first and the band shifted into the Bobcat fight song. As cheers emanated from the crowd, Nathan made his way across the gym with the assistant coaches behind him, followed by the team, led by Kirby. The boys wore their game day jerseys and the coaches wore khakis and Bobcat blue blazers. Nathan wore a tie.

Nathan was the kind of man who walked into a room like he knew the world was waiting for him — loose hipped, head high, half smiling with eyes half closed and looking at no one. He made his way toward the microphone in the middle of the gym floor as if he was alone and he had until next Tuesday to get there. Was it her imaginations or did most of the team seem to be trying to copy his lazy graceful gait?

As Nathan stepped up to the mike, the coaches filed behind him and stood on his left, and the boys gathered to his right.

“Bobcats,” Nathan said and the crowd went wild. Majorettes threw their batons, cheerleaders jumped and turned backflips, the crowd clapped and roared. Some students raised their hands over their heads, mimicking a clawing bobcat paw.

Nathan put a hand in the air and gradually the noise subsided. “Bobcats. That’s you, you know. It’s not just me. It’s not just them.” He swept his hand toward the team. “It’s every band member, every cheerleader, every student, faculty member, and parent — ” He swung his eyes toward the parent section and his eyes locked dead-on into Tolly’s. A startled expression settled on his face and she raised the back of her hand to cover her mouth to hide her amusement. She couldn’t resist wiggling her fingers in a barely detectable wave.