Covering Kendall

by Julie Brannagh

  “I know.”

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  “No. If I did, I’d be in trouble I couldn’t get out of. He said the only way he’d consider it is if the team threw what he calls ‘stupid money’ at him.”

  “Do you plan on doing that?”

  “No. He identified several issues the team’s already having that could be fixed with the money we’d have to pay him to leave Seattle.”

  Sydney stared at her. “I think that’s crazier than the fact you had the discussion.”

  “He’s fair,” Kendall said.

  Actually, Drew was generous. She knew the problems with the current team. They’d been over it multiple times already with Jack Phillips, who insisted the players in question were simply “lazy” and “unmotivated.” She knew from talking with those players’ agents that they’d had it with the head coach and were looking for a way out of San Francisco as quickly as possible.

  “So eat something. You’re meeting with the equipment guys a little later, and then we’ll be prepping for tomorrow morning’s agenda,” Sydney said.

  More meetings. More decisions. The guys who were gunning for her job were probably rubbing their hands together with glee. She had never wanted the GM job to begin with, but she’d do her best while she had it.

  The next several days were a whirlwind. The Miners were playing at home, which meant she wasn’t required to travel to an away game with the team. Kendall also did her best to stop thinking about Drew. It wasn’t working. She’d sent him some junior-high quality text the other day about missing him, and he didn’t text in response. In other words, she needed to get over it and keep her mind on her work.

  She was finishing up some e-mails at seven PM on Friday evening when Sydney walked into her office.

  “What are you doing here?” Kendall said. “You were out of here an hour ago. You have homework.”

  “It’s Friday night, and I can do the homework tomorrow or Sunday. You should have been out of here an hour ago too. It will all wait until Monday morning.” Sydney reached out to shove Kendall’s office door closed. “Have you heard from him?”

  They both knew who “him” was.

  “No. Maybe it’s better that way.”

  “Your meetings on Monday don’t start until noon.”

  “I thought there was some kind of breakfast thing.”

  “No,” Sydney said. She handed Kendall her tablet; flight times between San Francisco and Seattle were already on it. “Throw a few things in a bag and I’ll tell everyone you have an appointment.”

  “Why are you doing this for me?”

  Sydney grinned at her. “You and this job are getting me through undergrad. It’s the least I can do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  THERE WAS A reason for that old cliché about houseguests and fish starting to stink after three days. Neil McCoy wasn’t exactly a houseguest, but he’d been slowly driving Drew insane for the past several days while camping out at his house. Drew would be staying overnight at the team hotel this evening in preparation for tomorrow’s game. He could pack his garment bag in his sleep, but he was worried about what mischief his dad could get into while he was gone. He’d already asked Owen, to make something meat-and-potatoey for his dad’s dinner tonight. If Drew was lucky (and Neil wasn’t bored) he would stay home and order an action-adventure movie on pay-per-view or something.

  Drew wanted to send his dad to his room without his dinner. Neil had been sullen and irritable since he arrived in Seattle.

  “Dad, this is not a competition. You love her. She loves you. Go home and work it out,” Drew pleaded for the hundredth time since he found his dad napping on his family room couch. His older brother and both of his sisters had tried to convince their father to return to Wisconsin via long distance phone calls and Skyping. “What’s going on with you? You’re acting like a child, Dad. What would you say to me?”

  “No, I am not acting like a child, and I am not calling your mother. She can apologize to me. I’m not the one who’s ignoring my household duties, and I’m not crawling back to her, either,” Neil said. “You . . . you wouldn’t be happy if your wife wasn’t cooking dinner for you and making sure things were nice at home, either.”

  Neil put his hands on his hips and tried to look angry, but Drew could see the sadness in his dad’s expression. Instead of talking with Drew’s mom and telling her he felt worried he was losing her, he blew his stack and stomped around. Drew’s mom didn’t take that from her kids, and she sure wasn’t taking it from her husband, either.

  “Crawling back to her, Dad? Really? That’s not the point. You’re being stubborn. Mom’s not doing this to hurt you. It’s a part-time job. She’s happy. Why can’t you accept the fact she wanted something else to occupy her time besides all of us, something she enjoys doing?” Drew heaved a huge sigh and grabbed the suit and tie he’d need tomorrow out of his closet. He’d already grabbed a freshly laundered dress shirt, appropriate underwear, dress socks, and shoes. “You remember how to set the security system when you leave for my game tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Drew reached into the closet again. “You’ll need something to wear,” he told his dad and handed him one of his game-worn jerseys. “I think I might have a brand-new Sharks hat in here. The weather tomorrow is supposed to be overcast and chilly. Do you need a turtleneck or something to wear under that?”

  “I brought my heavy jacket. I’ll be fine.” Neil told him. “Thanks for the jersey. Your mom wears hers every Sunday when we’re watching your game at home.”

  Thank God for pay-per-view. He’d fly his parents in each week, but they preferred being at home surrounded by Drew’s siblings and the grandkids. He made a point of finding a TV camera during the third quarter each game, giving his mom a little wave, and mouthing, “Hi Mom. I love you.” Needless to say, the Sharks fans (and the team’s PR department) ate it up, but he wasn’t doing it for them. He knew his mom got a kick out of waiting and watching for it.

  “Okay, then. Let me get the hat, and I’m almost ready to go.” Drew grabbed his shaving kit out of the bathroom and made sure he had a couple more of the black covered elastic bands he pulled his hair back with. His fingers closed over the brim of a brand-new Sharks logo hat, which he handed to his dad. “Dad, Owen will be here in about an hour. He’s making you some steak and potatoes for dinner, and he’s bringing you a few snacks and maybe a Bud or two. If you want to stand on the sidelines for the game, you’ll need to be there a couple of hours early. The guy at Will Call gets a team employee to make sure you get where you’re going.”

  “Thanks, Son.” His dad held out both arms. “Good luck tomorrow. We are so proud of you.” Drew was folded into the huge bear hug his dad had been giving him since he was a little boy. They slapped each other on the back.

  “I’m proud of you too, Dad, and I’ll be prouder still when you go home and make up with Mom.” He backed away a little and grabbed his dad by the biceps. “I’ll be driving you to the airport Monday morning, so if you want to get Mom some of that candy you talked about, you might want to stop by there tomorrow before the game.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” his dad said, but he smiled. “Kicking your old man out?”

  “Sending my old man home where he belongs. Bring Mom next time.”

  “I might.”

  The doorbell rang downstairs. Drew wasn’t expecting anyone; it wasn’t Girl Scout cookie time, so he was tempted to not answer. Owen knew how to let himself in, so it couldn’t be him. A minute or so later, the doorbell rang again.

  “I’d better see who that is,” Drew said to his dad and headed downstairs. He didn’t see anyone when he looked through the peephole in the door, but he opened it anyway. He saw her sweet smile when she poked her head around the doorframe.

  “Surprise,” his mother said.

  “Mom! What are you doing here?”

  Drew’s mom, Bonnie, threw her arms around
him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. I have missed you so much.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way? I would have picked you up at the airport.” He gave her a huge squeeze. “I’ve missed you too.”

  “The plane landed an hour or so ago. I took a shuttle here.” Drew glanced up to see the driver wave as he got back into the van. “It’s so easy, and the flight was nice. I brought one bag.” She kissed his cheek. “I won’t be here long. I’m picking up your father, and we’re going home.”

  He heard his dad’s heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor of the entryway.

  “I’ll go home when I want to,” his father said. Drew almost let out a groan. In other words, he was back to acting like a child.

  Drew’s mom reached back to grab the handle of a small rolling suitcase, stepped around him, and faced her husband.

  “No, you’re coming home with me. Our son has enough on his plate without acting as a referee between us,” his mother scolded. “I’ll stay in the other guest room, and we’ll be going home tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you want to see my game, Mom? I can get you a suite ticket. You’ll have fun, and I’d love it if you were there.”

  “Oh, yes, honey, but not if I’m intruding.” She glanced up at Drew. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the team hotel tonight?”

  “You could never intrude, Mom. Let me get this set up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolled to find the Sharks’ PR director’s number, and hit “dial.”

  Drew’s parents were still glaring at each other. He had to be at the hotel in less than an hour, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave at the moment. His dad would never put hands on his mom, but they were sure as hell still angry with each other. He hated to think of them spending the evening fighting and unhappy, but there was little he could do about the situation right now. His little mom looked like a housecat that was defending her turf, and his dad was the neighborhood German shepherd. This wasn’t going to end well.

  He heard a “hello,” and he put the phone up to his ear. “Hi Colleen, it’s Drew McCoy. I’m wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

  “Of course, Drew. How can I help?”

  “My mom, Bonnie, just arrived in town. Both of my parents will be at the game tomorrow, if they can get into the team suite.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll take care of it. Would they like sideline passes?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll make that happen,” Colleen said. “Leave it up to me.”

  Easiest phone call he’d made all week. He thanked her, said goodbye, and ended the call. Maybe he was imagining it, but his dad had sidled over to his mother a little. He had to get his ass in gear and go to the hotel. He couldn’t leave them like this, though.

  “Mom, my chef will be here in a little while to make dinner for you lovebirds,” he said. He had no idea if Owen would have enough ingredients, but he always seemed to cope admirably with whatever food situation he found himself in. “I need to go, but I’m not leaving until you at least kiss each other and say hello.”

  “I can make myself a sandwich,” his mother said.

  “No, Mom, let Owen cook for you.” He put his hands on his hips. “Do I need to send you to your rooms? Nice greeting. I need to see it.”

  His dad folded his lips and raised an eyebrow. His mother put her bag back down on the hallway floor.

  “I can be an adult even if you’re having problems with that right now, Neil,” she said. He scowled in response. She moved closer to his father, slipped her arms around his waist, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hello,” she said.

  Neil’s arms surrounded her. “Hello,” he said, and he gave her a peck on the mouth.

  “That’s not a kiss,” Drew said.

  “This is private—”

  “When you dragged me into it, Dad, it stopped being private.”

  Father and son stared at each other over Bonnie’s head. “Fine,” Neil said. He stroked his wife’s cheek with one big hand. “I missed you, baby.”

  “I missed you too.”

  His dad kissed his mother—a real kiss, not that pecking at her stuff. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His parents were ignoring him, and he was happy about that. It was time for Drew to make himself scarce.

  THE NEXT DAY, the Sharks beat Dallas 30–6. Drew had a pair of sacks, several tackles, and had batted down a pass. His parents were holding hands on the sidelines. He knew he was going to have to spend a little more time making sure things were fine between them when he got home, but it was great to see them at one of his games.

  Instead of finding a TV camera in the third quarter and delivering his message to his mom, he crossed the tape line the grounds guys made each week on either side of where the team set up on the fifty yard line to keep spectators out of their area. She wasn’t hard to pick out of the sidelines crowd. He hugged and kissed her and rejoined the team.

  Coach Stewart caught up with him a few minutes later. “I’m going to have to fine you for that, McCoy.”

  “I realize that. Had to say hi to my mom.”

  The coach gave him a slap on the back. “It’s good to see your parents here.” He tugged on the mouthpiece of his headset and moved off to another part of the sidelines as the offense took the field again.

  Two hours later, Drew walked out of the Sharks locker room and met up with his parents.

  “How about I take you out for dinner tonight? You loved John Howie Steak the last time we went there.” Drew grinned at his mom. “I’ll get you one of those caramel ganache tarts for dessert.”

  “Thank you, honey, but you don’t have to do that. Your dad took me to the store this morning, and I have a roast cooking at your house. I’ll make the potatoes when I get to your place. There’s a salad, and I baked a chocolate cake.” His mom’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t leave you here without a good dinner and some leftovers for this week.”

  “Mom, I’ll help you with the dishes.”

  “Your dad actually loaded the dishwasher, honey.” His mom was blushing. His dad did a lot more than “load the dishwasher,” if Drew was reading the situation correctly. He did his best not to flinch.

  Neil slipped his arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “Come on, Son. Let’s go home.”

  Derrick walked out of the locker room and came to a screeching halt. “Mama McCoy,” he said.

  She let out a squeal and threw her arms around him. “Derrick, it’s so good to see you!”

  His dad let out a grunt, but he reached out a hand to Derrick. “Nice to see you.”

  “Nice to see you too, Mr. McCoy.” Derrick shook his hand and turned to Drew. “Are you meeting us at Ruth Chris’s for dinner tonight?”

  “My mom made dinner for us at my house,” Drew said.

  “Why don’t you come over for dinner, Derrick? We’d love to see you, and there’s plenty to eat,” his mom said.

  “Yeah, D,” Drew said. “Go get Taylor and ask him if he’d like to come over. We’ll grab a drink or something afterward.”

  The Sharks had won, so the players would visit the facility to verify they were healthy on Monday morning and not be expected back to work until Wednesday morning. Many of the single Sharks could be found at some of the nightclubs in the Seattle area on home game Sunday nights as a result. Drew took it easy on the alcohol during the season, but he liked to socialize with his teammates.

  Seth must have heard his name. He emerged from the locker room a minute or so later and headed toward Derrick and Drew.

  “What’s up? Are we going to the steakhouse? I’m starving.”

  “We’re going to Drew’s house instead,” Derrick said. “His mom is cooking, and you’re invited.”

  Drew’s mom gave Seth a hug. “I baked a chocolate cake,” she said.

  “I’ll be there,” Seth said. “Thank you for the invite.”

  Drew’s mom was beaming. “Why don’t you invite some more of your teammates, honey?”

  �
�I’m not sharing your chocolate cake with anyone else, Mom. Let’s get out of here,” Drew said. His dad took Bonnie’s arm and propelled her toward the parking lot.

  “We’ll see you at home in about half an hour or so,” Drew called after them.

  DREW, SETH, AND Derrick headed toward the team bus. They’d pick up their cars at the Sharks’ training facility. Drew hoped his mom had made a side of beef or something. She was used to how much he could eat, but she hadn’t fed these knuckleheads for a couple of years. Maybe she forgot what it was like. Maybe he should pick up some more food at the store or something.

  Derrick must have read his mind.

  “We’d better stop on the way to your place and get some flowers and wine or something, man. My mama would kick my ass if I showed up empty-handed,” Derrick said.

  “You know what’s going to happen if we walk into a grocery store together,” Drew said.

  “It won’t be that bad,” Seth said to Drew. “The wine department is right by the flowers at that store near your house. We’re in, we’re out, no problemo.”

  “Oh, sure,” Drew said. “Like you know what to buy there.”

  “Your mom’s serving red meat,” Seth said. “I’ll be buying red wine.”

  “Where the fuck did you learn that one?” Derrick said.

  “My mom told me.”

  “Well, then,” Derrick said. “You’re just a goddamn somi . . . soma . . . what the hell are they called? Wine guys who tell you what to get?”

  “Sommelier,” Drew said. “Plus, there are tags on the wine displays giving hints on what might be best to buy and drink with the food you’re having.”

  “Oooh. Aren’t we fancy?” Derrick said. “Did your mom tell you that too? She’s a nice lady, so I’m not going to kick your ass for that.”

  Seth rolled his eyes, and Drew laughed. Derrick had meted out some punishment on the field today, but he’d be in a much better mood after he had something to eat.

  The three men were back in their vehicles and speeding down 405 to Drew’s house minutes later. They pulled into the lot outside of the neighborhood grocery store, and Drew gestured for them to gather around.