“Heavens no. As Ms. Renshaw kindly pointed out, no charges were filed, therefore we don’t have due cause.” His voice veered toward sardonic. “Anyhow, everyone felt a need to express their opinions to me. All. Day. Long. Miss Constance and her cane were the most aggressively supportive of you retaining your position. I’m here to make sure everyone knows I have your back.”
The man held out his hand for a shake, and light-headed, Robbie returned it. The superintendent patted his shoulder and got them moving again.
“I called a team meeting,” Robbie said.
“Yep. Heard that too.”
Still in a state of mild shock, Robbie huffed a laugh. He stepped into the meeting room, and the buzz of conversation crescendoed before dipping into a heavy silence. Throats cleared and feet shuffled as he made his way to the front. Perkins stood to the side, his smile distorted by the chew pooching his lip.
Robbie tripped over his words at the beginning, but as he came clean with his players, the power his past held over him faltered. Once the facts had been laid out, he made eye contact with as many players as possible. “My mistake is why I’m tough on you boys. One act of poor judgment can alter your lives forever. Even though I wasn’t charged, don’t think I haven’t paid a steep price. Anyone have any questions?”
Boys shifted and a low murmur filled the room. Tyler raised his hand. Robbie tipped his chin, and Tyler asked, “What’s the game plan Friday night? How’re we going to kick those Raiders’ asses back to Huntsville?”
Whoops and catcalls erupted. Someone started a Falcon chant. Logan clapped Robbie on the shoulder and slipped the folder of new plays into his hands, a smile on his face. A sea of noise cascaded around him.
It was over with no bloodshed and his job intact. He’d underestimated them. What if he’d underestimated Darcy too? If he hadn’t already screwed it up and turned her love into hate.
* * *
Darcy stomped up the porch steps and tried unsuccessfully to rip the screen door off its hinges. Kat followed her inside, chewing on a fingernail and pulling at her hair. “I shouldn’t have told you, should I?”
“No. He should have told me, the jerk-face. Instead, he dumped me.”
If Robbie stood in front of her, she’d punch him in the face or knee him in the nuts. Yep, nuts sounded more satisfying. Then she’d throw herself at him and kiss him until he agreed he was an idiot.
His announcement they’d only been fuck buddies had jolted her, but even as she processed his hurtful words, his face conveyed a contradictory message. Somewhere under the nonsense he had spouted in her front yard was the man who’d confessed the pain of his childhood, the man who’d dropped everything when Ada died, the man who’d slept on her couch when she didn’t want to be alone, the man who’d made love to her with such passion and care. That was the man she loved.
His foster father was a total bastard. Did he think she would react with prim horror at his loss of control? Did he have no faith in her? The answer to that was obviously a resounding yes. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been Kat standing in her yard spilling her guts.
Darcy yanked a suitcase out of the closet and threw clothes inside, not bothering to fold or organize them. If she ended up with fifteen shirts and no panties, so be it.
Kat grabbed the T-shirt in Darcy’s hand and they played tug of war. “Don’t go. Give him another chance.”
“Whose side are you on? He dumped me. And, trust me, it was harsh. I need time.” Time away from everyone’s well-meaning meddling, away from Falcon, but mostly away from Robbie. A psychology book on the workings of the male mind would be nice too.
Kat looked near tears. “I’m always on your side. You know that.”
Darcy sighed, zipped the case, and hauled Kat in for a one-armed hug before stomping down the stairs. Clutching her suitcase, she stopped in the den and tucked the three books stacked on the side table under her arm. The hospital bed was gone, leaving an empty hole. With a last look around and a deep breath, she walked out the front door. After shoving her suitcase into the backseat and tossing the books beside her, she waved to Kat and skidded down the gravel lane to the blacktop out of town.
With her body still shaking from a maelstrom of emotions, chiefly anger and hurt, she pulled over behind the city limits sign. She couldn’t bring herself to cross that line. It felt too much like giving up. Was that what she was doing? Was this the end? She banged her head against the steering wheel. Ada’s books drew her focus. A strip of white poked out of the top of one book.
A crisp folded piece of paper marked the title page of Ada’s copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Carefully, as if booby trapped, she opened the single sheet of paper. It was a letter. A letter addressed to her from Ada and dated a week before she died. She flipped on the overhead light to read her grandmother’s spidery handwriting.
Darcy,
Something tells me my time is short. Maybe it’s God or maybe it’s my aching bones. Either way, I’ve made my peace. If I go on to live another decade, I’ll tear this letter up. Or I’ll show it to you and we can laugh about it.
Otherwise, I hope my advice takes on the proper gravitas given that it’s coming from the grave. I’m not sure why we give dead people wisdom they didn’t earn in life, but I’m willing to take advantage of the fact.
Let the past stay there and believe in love.
Decide what will make you happy. If Atlanta and your job is where your heart leads you, then know that I support you. But, if your heart lies elsewhere don’t allow fear to push you past the path you’re destined to travel.
Now, about my will, which I’m sure surprised and even pissed you off a little. I left Logan the house, not because I love you any less, but because I didn’t want it weighing you, and because Logan needs it more. I left you something more precious. Freedom. The freedom to follow your heart. Plus, all the wisdom in my books. (We both know that would be lost on Logan! Ha!) I would have sold the Wilson homeplace to Robbie anyway. If anyone ever needed a home, it’s that fine young man.
I loved you the minute you were born and never regretted taking you and Logan in. Just as I know how much you loved me.
Ada
PS. The Wilson house would be very lovely with a woman’s touch.
Warmth squeezed her from head to toe, like one of Ada’s hugs when Darcy was little. She tucked the letter away and, laying her cheek against the worn cover, breathed in the unique smell of an old, loved book. In the few minutes it had taken her to read the letter, she knew exactly where to go and what to do. She fishtailed off the shoulder and onto the road, headed to Atlanta.
25
Are there any off-field issues we should be aware of?”
Robbie held the scout’s eyes. “Absolutely none. Tyler is a great all-around kid. His family is supportive. He’s never been in any kind of trouble. Maintains a solid-B average. He would be an asset to any program—on and off the field.”
Every single word Robbie spoke was the truth. Whether Tyler liked girls or boys was none of the scout’s business, and not one iota of guilt rose at the omission.
“I have to say, I was impressed. I watched film of your last game, and your kids were outsized but still managed to win. What’s your secret?” the scout asked as he rose, gathered his papers, and shuffled them back into his canvas satchel.
“Hard work. In the weight room, on the practice field, and with scouting videos.” Robbie came around the desk, and they shook hands at the door.
“He can expect a scholarship offer from UAB. Could you put in a good word?” The scout smiled a charming, salesmanlike smile.
“I’ll let him know we talked.” It was all Robbie would promise. He wanted to open as many doors as possible, and let Tyler decide. That was a coach’s job.
Logan exchanged farewells with the scout in the hallway and walked into his office. He dropped into a chair, extended his legs, and closed his eyes.
“No time to nap. We have work to do.” Robbie kicked at Logan’s fee
t on the way back around his desk.
“Some friend you are.” Logan sat up and scrubbed at his face. “You think we have a shot in hell Friday night?”
“Maybe.”
“Those boys from Huntsville are bigger and faster.”
“Yep.”
“Better program, better equipment, better field.”
“Good thing you didn’t say better coaching or I might’ve punched you.” Robbie propped his feet on the desk.
Logan heaved a sigh and slumped back in the chair, his gaze subtle but intense. “Darcy is gone.”
Robbie stopped breathing. He had gone by the house after the team meeting and banged on the door, even though her car wasn’t out front. She hadn’t responded to his texts, and he wasn’t brave enough to call after their last confrontation. Pain pumped from his heart through his body. It burned worse than any physical wound. Was he having a heart attack? He didn’t keel over dead. No, this was a broken heart. And damn, but it hurt like hell.
“Are you sure?” His words echoed cavelike in his ears.
“Talked to her yesterday. She’s back in Atlanta.”
“I’d broken it off already so I’m not surprised. It’s no big deal.” Lies, but he’d wallow at home in his grief, not in front of Logan with the entire football team down the hall.
“You broke it off? Why on earth did you do that?”
“It was time. Plus, I didn’t want her dealing with the shitstorm of my past.”
Logan shook his head and muttered something unintelligible under his breath on the way to the door. He pivoted back and propped his hands on his hips. “Goddammit, Darcy’s not like one of the flighty women you’ve fooled around with. She sticks. No offense, but you fucked up big time.”
Logan stalked out, brushing by Tyler who knocked on the doorjamb and bounced back and forth on his feet. “I saw the UAB scout in the parking lot. Did he say anything about me?”
Robbie tried a smile, but it felt anemic. “Expect a scholarship offer. Full ride if that’s what you want.”
“I want. I want,” Tyler chanted.
“Not so fast. There will be more scouts in the stands Friday night. We’re one of the top four teams in state. You might get some interest from an SEC school.”
Tyler took the seat Logan recently vacated. His eyes were wide, and a wondering smile turned his lips. “I can’t believe it. This time last year, we were reading about the playoffs. None of us ever imagined we’d be in them. Thanks, Coach. For everything. Whipping us into shape, getting us tutoring, helping me. You didn’t have to do any of it.”
“I consider it part of my job. The best part.” Robbie paused—at one time, that’s where he would have stopped. “My high school coach was more of a father to me than anything.”
“You should invite him down for our game.”
Robbie’s throat drew tight. The memories were like sandpaper against his raw nerves. He could still feel the phone in his suddenly damp hand while the coach’s wife told him the news. “He died right before I graduated college. God, I miss him.”
“We’ll win it for him and for you,” Tyler said solemnly.
“All I ask is you give it your all. Tell the boys to head out to the field and run laps. I’ll be out in ten.”
“Yes, sir.” Tyler rose and crisply saluted.
Robbie hadn’t given Darcy his all. The morning Robbie stole away, he should have held her close, spent every second loving her instead of bowing to his fear. He never told her exactly what she meant to him, because he was too much of a coward. Instead, he been afraid that if she saw the ugly parts of him she’d turn away and tell him he was an unworthy, no-good loser. The words he’d heard so many times, he’d come to believe them to be true.
But they weren’t. Not anymore. He was making a difference, giving Falcon something to be proud of, teaching boys how to be men.
Regret churned his stomach. If he told Darcy how he felt and she turned away, at least he could live with himself. He’d pushed her away, afraid she’d destroy him. Now he knew. It was too late. She owned him. She had from the very beginning. Even one day without her, one day with her believing he’d only used her, seemed a lifetime in hell.
If he didn’t have eighty boys and an entire town counting on him, he’d fire up his motorcycle and ride a hundred miles an hour to Atlanta. He’d find her and tell her he loved her. He’d make sure she heard his offer before making the decision to leave. But, he couldn’t. He’d have to wait and hope it wasn’t too late.
* * *
“’Scuse me, pardon me, so sorry.” Darcy repeated the litany as she stepped closer to her goal—Kat’s distinctive corona of hair. The band performed their halftime show and most of the people stood and chatted.
“Darcy!” Kat squealed. She grabbed Darcy’s hand around the disgruntled bodies of three men and pulled. They hugged between the narrow bleacher seats right on the 50-yard line.
“I’d forgotten what a nightmare traffic is on a Friday night in Atlanta. I wasn’t sure I’d make it in time. We’re losing.” Worried, Darcy wiggled into a spot next to Kat.
“We were down by seventeen, but Miles intercepted with twenty seconds to go and ran it in for a TD right before halftime. The Raiders are good. And fast. And really, really big. I swear they must be pumping those boys with IVs filled with protein shakes.” Kat’s voice dropped. “What did you decide?”
“I tendered my resignation at Emory and took the Falcon library job. Moving van is arriving next week. I’ll put my stuff in storage and stay with Logan.”
Kat grabbed her close for another breath-stealing hug. “Have you talked to Dalt?”
She looked toward the field where Robbie led his team out of the locker room for the second half. After all the decisions she’d made over the two days without regrets, she was racked with sudden uncertainty. “Not yet.”
A nod was Kat’s response, but concern drew her mouth into a slight grimace.
Darcy turned away first. “Kickoff.”
She concentrated on the game, cheering and moaning as the tide turned back and forth. The Falcons pulled within one scoring drive with three minutes to go. Darcy stood tall on top of the metal seat and hollered at the team, waving blue-and-white pompoms above her head.
Tyler saw her and gave her double thumbs-up before he pulled his helmet on. Robbie huddled his offense and gave them last-minute instructions. The boys jogged onto the field and assumed their positions.
Either Tyler said something or Robbie sensed her in the stands, because he turned and scanned the crowd. Their gazes tangled. Her screams lodged in her throat and she froze, her arms still in the air. What could she do?
She smiled. As big and open and loving a smile as she could manage. He didn’t smile back, but neither did he turn away. Not until the referees blew the whistle, signaling the start of the most important three minutes of his coaching career.
* * *
Robbie jogged under the goalposts to the locker room in a daze. They’d lost in spectacular fashion. A Raiders linebacker had stripped the ball and ran it back for a touchdown the second play of the series, hurtling the game out of their reach.
The loss only filled him with mild disappointment reserved for the boys and for the town. Their dream season was over, but another dream materialized for Robbie. Darcy had been in the stands. At first, he thought he’d imagined her or mistaken someone else for her, but then she’d smiled. He’d barely restrained himself from looking behind him to make sure her attention wasn’t meant for Logan or one of the players.
A gauntlet of reporters and mopey fans waited outside the locker room. How long would it take to extricate himself? A second felt too long.
Robbie grabbed the back of Logan’s shirt. “You have your phone? I left mine inside.”
Logan fell into step beside him and patted him on the shoulder. “Great season, man. I wish we could have finished it off.”
“It’s fine,” Robbie replied absently. “Listen, Darcy was in the sta
nds. Shoot her a text and make sure she sticks around. I need to talk to her.”
Before he could say more, Falcon faithful and reporters swallowed him. He comforted mothers and fathers, but underneath their misery wove excitement for next season. Sure enough, reporters questioned his talent pool for the next year and mused on whether this season was a fluke or whether Falcon had permanently inserted itself into the Alabama elite.
In that moment, Robbie didn’t give a shit about next season. He wanted Darcy. But his players waited in the locker room, and they would want words of comfort and wisdom. Words he felt incapable of locating.
Words came anyway. Not his best speech, and definitely his shortest one, but the kids seemed satisfied. His shower was expedient. Logan and most of the players still lingered. Usually he wanted to be the last one out, like the captain on a sinking ship. This time, he abandoned everyone.
He caught Logan’s eye on the way out and got a wink and a thumbs-up. He hoped that meant Darcy had agreed to wait. A deserted, cold parking lot of a high school football stadium was not tops on his destination list for a romantic declaration. Actually, as he’d never made a romantic declaration, the only other spot he had in mind was his bedroom, but what he had to say couldn’t wait.
His black truck stood in a row littered with a handful of other cars. The stadium lights high overhead cast long, deep shadows. His quick step slowed. Nothing moved. A lump formed in his throat. She hadn’t waited. Why did he think he deserved another chance with her?
Loneliness hollowed his chest, and he wished he hadn’t left Avery at home. Maybe his penance was having to face the night alone. All his nights alone.
A faraway shadow moved and materialized into a woman. His breathing accelerated as if he had sprinted to her even as his feet remained mired in the cement.
Slow and Steady Rush: Sweet Home Alabama Page 26