Homecoming in Mossy Creek

by Debra Dixon

  “Beau, Maggie’s... well, she’s fifty. Anything can happen. I’ve got to be there.”

  “Yeah, she said you’d say that.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “Yep. It’s true. But if you really want to make that woman madder than she’s going to be when those labor pains start in earnest, you just go ahead and abandon these boys.”

  “Madder?”

  “Well, my understanding is that women get pretty mad at their husbands. Or in your case, the fathers of their babies, while they’re suffering that excruciating labor pain.”

  “Crap. What am I going to do?”

  “It’s less than an hour, Tag. You’ll be there.” He nodded toward the field as the football flew into the air in the most perfect kick a Mossy Creek kicker ever kicked. “You’re not going to let them down.”

  Defeated, I turned and trudged toward HayDay.

  He looked at me with a question on his face. “What’s up?”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the lightheadedness that seemed to consume me. Maggie in labor. Without me. We’d practiced together. She depended on me. “Maggie’s in labor.”

  “Hey, congratulations. Are you leaving now?”

  I glanced at him and then downfield. The Harrington player caught the ball and got slammed for his trouble. The ball popped loose and Tater caught it. He raced for the end zone and scored. I steadied my breath and tried to calm down. Less than an hour. I had to keep that in mind.

  “I’m staying. These boys are counting on me.” I turned back to him and tried a half-baked smile. I clapped his back and nodded toward the activity on the field. “They’re counting on us.”

  The team played like they were the Dawgs on their best day. Those kids could do no wrong. They caught pass after pass. They rushed for big yardage. Our linebackers kept Harrington from getting a single first down. We intercepted two passes and created three fumbles.

  Greg was on the sidelines going crazy. That kid was there every time a player came off the field, handing them towels and Gatorade. Then he’d be on the sideline, calling encouragement and whooping it up when they did something good.

  Toward the end of the fourth quarter, we were so far ahead I sent in the second string players. By the time the game was over, every single player had spent some time on the field. Everybody would be able to say they had a hand in this win.

  The horn blasted announcing the end of the game and the Mossy Creek players mobbed each other, then HayDay and me in celebration. Then, like the true gentlemen they were, they lined up on the fifty yard line and marched across the field to shake hands with the players and coaches of Harrington High. As they rushed back across the field, their joy was obvious. This game meant more than just a regular football game, more even than a Homecoming game. These boys had played for pride, for being the first Mossy Creek High School team in twenty years. And for a coach whom they’d grown to love and respect, who now lay in a hospital bed fighting for his life.

  “Okay, boys. Let’s get showered.” I looked from face to expectant face. “We’ve got to report our win to the coach.”

  “Hey, Coach Garner,” Willie said. “I just got a call from Christie. She said Monica is okay and that your wife’s at the hospital, too.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “Yep, she is. Looks like this is gonna be a big night for Mossy Creek. We won the Homecoming game in a big way. And I’m about to become the daddy of twins.”

  “Hey, Coach,” called Tater. “I got a couple a names for you. I think you need to call ’em Tater and Willie, after the heroes of this game.”

  I laughed in spite of everything that had happened. “Yeah, right. And a few years from now, when my daughters are running for Homecoming Queen, who’s going to date girls named Willie and Tater?”

  Tater blushed. “They’re girls?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” I gazed at the guys. “I’m hoping for at least one football player.”

  “Hey,” Willie said, “Maybe you’ll get a boy and a girl. A football player and a Homecoming queen.”

  The boys showered in record time, and we were on the way to the hospital. I dashed into the maternity area and breathlessly demanded to be taken to see Maggie. The nurse smiled. “Yes, sir. We’ve been expecting you.”

  She led me through a couple of sets of double doors that slowly swung open and we were in the labor suite. There was Maggie with Anna Rose.

  “Well, Coach, did we win?” Maggie asked, looking more beautiful than I’d ever seen her.

  “Yep.” I leaned over and kissed her and then nodded to Anna Rose. “Tater says we need to name them Tater and Willie in honor of the heroes of this game.”

  “Tell Tater to keep his names to himself.” Maggie laughed, a sweet musical laugh that never failed to entrance me.

  “That’s pretty much what I told him.” I glanced at Anna Rose. “Any word on Fred?”

  She shook her head, and Maggie caught my arm. “Go see about him. I’m fine for now. Only five centimeters. It’s going to be awhile.”

  “No, I’ll just hang out with you. I need to be here in case...”

  “In case what? In case I need somebody to yell at?”

  I tried hard not to look sheepish. “I’m sorry about this, Maggie. I mean... I hate... You know I can’t stand...”

  “Stop stammering and go see Fred. He needs you worse than I do right now.” Her voice softened and she smiled. “He doesn’t have anybody. Anna Rose can sit with me until you get back.”

  “Well, maybe for a minute.” I gazed at Anna Rose. “Call me the minute anything happens.”

  She nodded, and I left. I asked the same nurse who’d led me to Maggie’s bedside for directions to the cardiac unit.

  After only two wrong turns, I ended up at the desk in Cardiac ICU. “Fred Mabry, please.”

  A nurse who looked like any harpy you can imagine in a horror film looked up at me. Her teeth were yellowed with age and her jet black hair had to be out of a bottle. Maybe it was shoe polish. She had that look about her that reminded me of Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I started to ask her how much she’d charge to haunt a house. After all, Halloween was getting close.

  “Are you family?” she asked in a voice husky from cigarette and alcohol use. “Only family members are allowed to visit. For ten minutes only.”

  I started to say no, but stopped and inhaled. “Son. I’m his son.”

  She glared at me a moment and then shook her head. “Your brother is here already.”

  “My...brother?”

  “Yeah. Baldish guy. A lot older.” She peered at me over her reading glasses. “You do have a brother, don’t you?”

  Was she testing me or telling the truth. I didn’t know. I finally decided to tell another lie. “Yeah. Half-brother.”

  She just shrugged. Thank goodness she didn’t recognize me. I followed her through the hallway and into the unit. Over her shoulder, I could see Fred, hooked up to a bunch of beeping machines and IV drips. The nurse said, “Mr. Mabry, your other son is here.”

  Fred’s eyes slowly opened. “My other son?”

  Before he could say he didn’t have a son, I jumped in. “Hey, Dad, just got in. We won the game.” Then I noticed Willard Overbrook standing there. “Hey there...brother. I didn’t expect to see you here. Um...yet.”

  The nurse eyed me suspiciously for a moment. Fred focused on me. “Oh, yeah... Hey, son. Glad we won.”

  Willard nodded. “Sorry I missed the game. I felt like Dad needed somebody here.”

  With that, the nurse stalked away, obviously not believing either one of us for a minute. I shook Willard’s hand and moved closer to Fred’s bed. “So what’s the game plan?”

  “Heart attack. They’ve isolated it to an artery and will probably put
in a stent later on. Seems like most of the doctors in town were at the game.”

  I chuckled. “Well, they caught a good game then.”

  “How’s Maggie?”

  “You’re about to have a stent put in and are asking about Mags?”

  “Yep. You gotta make an honest woman of her, son.”

  “I’d do it in a heartbeat...Dad.” I kept up the ruse in case the old bat was still listening outside the room. “She’s holding out on me.”

  He tried to chuckle and coughed instead.

  Willard leapt forward as if there was something he could do. “You all right?”

  Fred nodded and looked at me. “What the hell are you doing here? I heard she’s here having your baby.” His eyes narrowed and his forehead wrinkled. “I raised you better than that. Just take yourself back to her. I’ll be fine here.” He angled his head toward Willard. “I got your brother Willard here. He’ll come after you if I need you.”

  “You always did love him best,” I teased, and Willard laughed.

  Fred growled, “Get out of here and take care of your woman. She needs you.”

  I was beginning to feel useless. I told “Dad” and “Brother Willard” I’d see them when I could and left. Fred must be feeling better. His sense of humor was returning.

  In the waiting room, I was mobbed by the team. They were all waiting for word on Coach. “Okay, guys, looks like he’s going to be fine. They’ve got him stabilized and they’re going to put in a stent later.”

  I answered a bevy of questions and they stepped toward the door. “I’m going to check on Maggie. I’ll be back when I can.”

  I hurried down to the labor and delivery area. I heard a shriek and dashed into the birthing room. “Maggie! Was that you?”

  “Yes!” She released a stream of expletives as she gripped the bed railings, her knuckles turning white. Gradually she began to relax. Finally, she asked. “How’s Fred?”

  I related the story of my newly discovered “brother” and the details of Fred’s condition. She relaxed as I was talking. I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back, pulling her into the circle of my arms. “Just relax, honey. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Even though I’m not much of a praying man, I closed my eyes and offered a silent prayer for the health and well-being of Mags and my babies. Hours passed that seemed like days. Maggie grunted and screamed and puffed and inhaled and exhaled and screamed some more.

  I cried. Honest to God, I cried. I never felt so helpless in my life. I’d have given anything to take that pain from her. Finally, the first baby’s head poked out. It was the tiniest human I’d ever seen. My daughter weighed in at three pounds and eight ounces. I watched, mesmerized as they cleaned her up and whisked her away in the neo-natal incubator that would be her home for the next few days at least.

  And then came my son. He was a bit larger at four pounds, two ounces. They both had all ten fingers and toes. They both were breathing. Even though they’d have to stay here for a few extra days, they were going to be fine.

  Maggie was fine. We decided it would be okay to roll her down to see Fred. My “brother” Willard was there. Nurse Ratched was nowhere to be found, so we sneaked in.

  “Hey, Fred, Willard,” I said in a low voice.

  They greeted Mags and me enthusiastically. Fred’s procedure had been done and his color was much better. “Well?” he said, a question in his voice. “Are you going to tell us what the babies are?”

  Mags beamed. “We have a girl and a boy.”

  “So much for Tater and Willie,” I commented dryly. We’re going to have to be more creative than that.”

  Maggie shook her head. “We’re not naming them after anybody we know. I’m thinking of Magnolia and Milford.”

  I gaped at her in astonishment. “Maggie! You’re not!”

  She laughed. “Okay. Just teasing.”

  Trying to appear nonchalant, I nodded. “I was thinking of something like Dooley for our son.”

  “Dooley...as in Vince Dooley?”

  “Do you hate it?”

  “No, actually I sort of like it.” She reached out and gripped my hand. “It’s different and it means something.”

  I was thrilled she liked the name. Vince Dooley meant a lot to me. It was kind of my personal tribute to him, I guess. “Okay. So what’s our daughter’s name?”

  “Hmm...How about Dayna?”

  “Dooley and Dayna. Works for me. But what does the name Dayna stand for?”

  “Nothing in particular. It was the name of a character in a book once and I liked it.”

  “Perfect.”

  Fred opened his eyes and nodded. “And when do I get to see these babies?”

  “As soon as they gain enough weight to be released from the neo-natal unit.”

  Willard stayed a moment longer, congratulated us and then left. He left so abruptly that I glanced at Fred. “What’s up with him? He’s been here like glue and now he dashes like his pants are on fire.”

  “I asked him to do something for me.”

  Though I asked, Fred refused to say anything else. Nurse Ratched came in. “Time for you folks to go. We’re moving your ‘father’ to a regular room.”

  Maggie and I left with a promise to come back when he got settled. As I pushed her back up the hall, she looked a little sentimental. “What’s up, Magster?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I was just thinking.”

  “Always a dangerous thing,” I teased.

  “No, seriously.” She looked back at me. “Do you still want to get married?”

  I stopped, spun the wheel chair around and knelt beside her. “Of course, I do. Do you even have to ask? What’s changed your mind?”

  “The twins. I was thinking I would like to have the same last name they have. I mean,” she fought for words to explain. “It would just be much simpler.”

  Knowing Mags, that had little to do with her change of heart. I kissed her and pulled her close. “Sure it would. I love you. We’ll marry as soon as we can arrange it.”

  Feeling very light all of a sudden, I took her back to her room and tucked her back into bed. She was dozing when my phone rang. I grabbed it as fast as I could, but her eyes fluttered open. It was Fred.

  “Why didn’t somebody take your cell phone away?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

  He laughed. “I got things to do. You and Mags come back down here. I got a problem I need to talk to you about.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I clicked off and turned to Mags. “You okay? Fred needs us to come back down there for something.”

  “I’m fine. Let me slip on my pretty robe and fix my face. I must look awful.”

  “Never. But go ahead.” In moments we were ready to go. I rolled her down the hall, into the elevator and up two floors. When we got to Fred’s room, it was full of people. It looked like they were having a party.

  He spotted us. “Hey, come on in.”

  I was a little puzzled. There were too many people in the room of a man who’d just had heart surgery. When we walked into the crowd, I realized the entire football team was there along with the Homecoming court, all dressed in their finery from the previous night. I noticed Willard was back, too. And with Preacher Hickman of Mt. Gilead United Methodist Church. He congratulated us enthusiastically and smiled back at Fred.

  “Oh. Okay.” Fred shifted in the bed and cleared his throat. “Okay, Maggie and Tag. Preacher Hickman is here to marry you two.”

  “What?” I said, gaping in astonishment. “Really, Fred, we don’t have a license and—”

  “Fine.” Maggie said and smiled up at me. “Let’s do it, Honey. We can take care of the details later.”

  “Wait, here we are!” Nurse Ratched entered trailed by two nurses f
rom Neo-Natal and our two babies in their incubators. “These precious babies need to be here for their parents’ wedding.” She parked Dayna beside Maggie and Dooley beside me. “Okay. Now we have a maid of honor and a best man.” She grinned and backed up.

  There, in front of everybody, Maggie and I said our vows. When Preacher Hickman pronounced us man and wife, a cheer resounded through the entire hallway. Even though we hadn’t been expecting this, it seemed to work out perfectly.

  We had our fairy tale ending...even though it had its own twist.

  PART TEN

  The Great Time Capsule Caper

  Louise & Peggy, Saturday evening

  There was already a crowd of cars parked in the lot in front of the high school, but I didn’t see either Ida’s SUV or Amos’s cruiser. Where on earth could they be?

  “Peggy, go in there, find ’em and bring Amos out here,” I said.

  “I’m filthy and I smell. You go.”

  “No way.”

  “Well, we can’t simply sit here in hopes that one or the other of them will stick a head out the door,” she said. “We’ll both go.”

  I groaned. Charlie wasn’t supposed to attend, but I knew my daughter Margaret and her husband Bud would be here. She’d never let me forget showing up looking like a bag lady, especially if there was something in that box that compromised her.

  Still, what choice did we have? “We could forget the whole thing,” I said. “Let them think we didn’t find the box.”

  “Louise, don’t be ridiculous. We sweated bullets to get it to Amos, then he and Ida simply defected. We’re going to open that box and be there when every one of those things is taken out, even if there’s evidence that the captain of the football team shot Jimmy Hoffa.”

  “We don’t have a key.”

  “You have a tire iron. Bring it along.” She climbed out of the car.

  And I thought Ida was dictatorial.

  Together we humped the box back onto the two wheeler and rolled it up the ramp and down the hall to the gym. We must have looked a sight. At first everybody gawked, then somebody—I think it was John McClure—recognized the box.