The Hero
Page 22
Author: Robyn Carr
Spencer decided to ask Scott Grant about doing a little volunteer time with the team. Spencer could cope with practice injuries, but game night was another story. He couldn’t stop the game and couldn’t turn a wounded young athlete over to distressed parents. He would need medical assistance to help with those issues.
Then there was that woman—Miss Benjamin—whom he had recently learned was a high school history teacher. “What the hell is she doing on my practice field every day?” he asked Rayburough.
“She better be trying to get your attention,” the older man said. “If she’s not, I think she’s close to committing a felony.”
“Can’t we get her to stop that? To say that football is not on the team’s collective mind when she shows up would be an understatement.”
“Why don’t you ask her? In fact, why don’t you take her out for a drink and ask her—that might be all she needs.”
“Ah, no.” He shook his head. “No, she’s not my type at all. She’s a little too out there for me. She couldn’t be more obvious if she was sending me private pictures on the internet.”
Rayburough looked him up and down then shook his head. “You’re a strange man, Coach. I’m older than dirt and I don’t mind looking at her.”
“I know pole dancers who are more discreet. She could wear some fucking shorts around those seventeen-year-old boys. What’s she like in the classroom?”
“How would I know?”
“I’m going to find a way to get her to stop, without ruffling her feathers or getting her in trouble.” She pissed Spencer off but—even he almost had a woody, so those boys must be a hot mess right now.
“Now, I gotta have a trainer—where can I get one right away?”
“Put the boys on the job,” he said. “They’ll bring you one or recommend someone they know. There are plenty of boys who couldn’t make the team but love to be part of the action. And if you need me, I’ll train him.”
Spencer handed Rayburough a notebook. “I put together a weight training supplement that I think these kids should be on. How’s the overall nutrition on this team? They typically get enough protein? They have to force carbs, but they need protein to build muscle. You have any way of watching that? Because we need a little more muscle on that field and I want them well fed and hydrated.”
“I print out a workout diet guide every year—I think you’ll find most of these boys get great support from their families. They’ll provide what you ask for—they need the scholarships.”
Spencer decided right then he was going to do a little investigating. He could probably ask Landon for input. There was no way a player would come to him and confess he wasn’t getting enough food. But if there was anyone from a family who couldn’t afford the five eggs or broiled beef or steamed legumes or cheese and cracked wheat, Spencer knew ways to supplement that would get a player strong and healthy. He wasn’t going to have anyone collapse out there.
The locker room was filled with wet, half-naked boys, the showers still running. Spencer blew his whistle. It became instantly quiet as a church, even the water stopped running.
“I’m going to be here at eight tomorrow morning and at two tomorrow afternoon. It’s not a training day but anyone interested in talking about the best nutritional program for energy and body building should show up. And, after a short discussion about that, I’m willing to talk about some plays. I brought my playbook. I’m pretty sure my last team had a few you’ve never seen. This is not required—I know many of you have work and family obligations—don’t worry, I’ll catch you up next week if you have to sit this one out. This is entirely optional. Hey, good workout today, men. If you keep showing me your stuff like that, we’ll go far.”
Eight o’clock the next morning, the entire team was crowded into the locker room, waiting for him. Once he got over the shock of seeing them all there he realized that any of their parents or bosses would have excused them for anything to do with football.
Now the pressure was on....
* * *
Because school would start in less than a month, Dr. Grant’s clinic was pretty booked on Saturdays. The only serious situation was a laceration on the palm of a fisherman who carried a good many scars in roughly the same place. Devon helped with the treatment and the cleanup and then she sat down and put her head between her knees for a few moments. Scott laughed at her.
Blood bothered Devon, it always had. Once she cut her finger, pretty deeply, and had to lie down on the floor with a towel wrapped around it until she was no longer faint. “I’ll get better,” she told Scott. “At least I hope so.”
Around three that afternoon, Spencer came into the clinic. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “I have an appointment with the doctor.”
She looked at her computer screen. “I don’t have you down on the schedule.”
“Yeah, I know. I just called him. He said he can give me some time. And then, I was wondering, do you have plans for tonight?”
“Me? Plans?” At least she didn’t laugh out loud.
“You. Plans. I was thinking something simple. Relaxing. How about I bring a pizza over to your place. Or, I could take you and Mercy out for pizza, or something else if you’d like. I’m guessing you don’t have plans to go to the mall or a movie or something....”
Devon gave him a smile. She was a little surprised—she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she’d seen him on her lunch hour a day ago. With school starting soon she knew he’d been busy. “Pizza would be nice. I’ll give Mercy her mac and cheese and bath and we can have the pizza. It will be very quiet. There’s no TV or anything.”
“Just what I’m looking for. Seven too late?” he asked.
“Just late enough. I need a refresh. It’s been a long day in here. There was even blood!”
“Ewwww,” he said on a laugh. “Never expect that in a clinic, right?”
“Scott’s not with a patient right now so you can go back. I think he’s either in the office or the break room.”
The minute he was gone, she leaned her chin in her hand and smiled. She’d been thinking about him a lot but hadn’t expected that he would be thinking about her. He had a full and busy life.
The phone rang only twice while Spencer was talking to Scott, then they came out to the front together and Spencer was thanking him. Then he said to Devon, “See you tonight.”
“Sure,” she said.
And he was out the door.
Scott stood there beside her desk. She finally looked up at him. He lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Date?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s exactly that. We’re going to have a pizza together tonight.”
“I know you’ve been out of circulation for a while, but that’s a date in my book.”
“Spencer is a friend. And neighbor.”
Scott shook his head. “Devon, friends and neighbors date...”
The realization came to her slowly. She had gone to the wedding with Scott, danced with him and yet had not considered it a date. But this time she knew it was, because she wanted it to be. When you want a man to be your date—whether it’s champagne and flowers or pizza—it’s because you’re hoping it might go somewhere. And where, Devon McAllister asked herself, where do you think it’s going to go?
Her brows were drawn together fiercely, she could feel it. Then she heard Scott say, “Devon, I know you have problems to sort out, but the world won’t stop turning if you laugh. Have a good time. Enjoy yourself.”
“I guess that’s right,” she said.
“Are we done for the day?” he asked.
“You are,” she said. “I have some charts to enter. So as long as I’m here, I’ll answer the phone and add appointments to your roster for next week.”
“And I’m going to grab a cup of coffee, then head home. I’ll probably see you there when you pick up Mercy. Unless you’d like her to stay over so you can be alone with—”
“No! I mean, no, thank you. It’s not that kind of date.”
* * *
Scott could’ve had his cup of coffee at the clinic—they had a pot on. Or he could’ve gone out to the beach bar and had a beer to go along with his self-pity. Instead he went to the diner where he found Gina behind the counter and only a few teenagers in a back booth.
“Hey, I don’t usually see you this time of day,” he said, sitting in front of her.
“I’m usually long gone by now, but I’m covering for Ashley until four or so. She’s been out on the bay with a couple of her friends and Eric, her father.”
“That must be kind of interesting, being reunited with her father.”
Gina laughed. “There’s no ‘re’ about it—Eric took off when I was three months pregnant. We were kids...he ran far and fast. I found him last spring when I was looking for medical history for Ash—I realized I knew nothing about his side of the family and thought I’d better get some basic information. That got the ball rolling and they wanted to meet.”
“I didn’t realize,” Scott said.
“I raised her alone, with the help of my mother,” she said.
“What’s it like, seeing him again after so long?”
She shrugged. “He just says a quick hello if he’s going to be spending a little time with Ashley. And he’s not too intense about it—he sees her every couple of weeks. They’re developing a nice friendship, I think. But for me? Amazing how much water has gone over the dam. Life goes on.”
Not always, Scott thought. “You know, you and I had a couple of dates, right before you married Mac...”
She smiled. “We did.”
“Got any girlfriends? I’m not doing that great in the dating department. And I’d like my life to go on...”
She tilted her head and smiled sympathetically. “Scott, are you sure you’re ready?”
“My wife died almost four years ago....”
“I know. But everyone is different. Maybe it’s taking you a while—no shame in that. Be patient—when the perfect woman comes along, everything will fall into place.”
“How am I going to know the perfect woman if I don’t even date a potential perfect woman? I was just building up to asking Devon if we could go out to dinner and someone jumped in line ahead of me!”
Gina laughed.
He put his elbow on the counter and leaned his head into his hand. He groaned. “Shit. I’m pathetic, right?”
Gina poured him a cup of coffee. When he finally looked up, she was smiling. “Scott, you’ve known Devon for a while now. She’s worked for you for over a month. You keep her three-year-old in your home. If you had the hots for her, it wouldn’t have taken you this long.”
“It takes hots?”
She nodded gravely. “It takes hots. Right now you’ve got a real cozy deal—a nice new clinic, a good babysitter, from what you say an excellent clinic manager, plenty of time with your profession and your family, everything covered, everything handled. You’re free and clear—when the right woman shows her face, you’re ready. You’ll know it in minutes. Until you’re really ready, you might not recognize her.”
“What makes you think I’m not ready?”
Gina smiled. “You really want to hear this? Be sure, because I’m not real crazy about saying it.”
“Lay it on me. Please.”
She put her hand over one of his. “Our two dates? Were very enjoyable. You’re a very good date. And I was interested in your life, your relationship with your wife, and your kids. But you talked about your wife through two entire dates.”
Spencer decided to ask Scott Grant about doing a little volunteer time with the team. Spencer could cope with practice injuries, but game night was another story. He couldn’t stop the game and couldn’t turn a wounded young athlete over to distressed parents. He would need medical assistance to help with those issues.
Then there was that woman—Miss Benjamin—whom he had recently learned was a high school history teacher. “What the hell is she doing on my practice field every day?” he asked Rayburough.
“She better be trying to get your attention,” the older man said. “If she’s not, I think she’s close to committing a felony.”
“Can’t we get her to stop that? To say that football is not on the team’s collective mind when she shows up would be an understatement.”
“Why don’t you ask her? In fact, why don’t you take her out for a drink and ask her—that might be all she needs.”
“Ah, no.” He shook his head. “No, she’s not my type at all. She’s a little too out there for me. She couldn’t be more obvious if she was sending me private pictures on the internet.”
Rayburough looked him up and down then shook his head. “You’re a strange man, Coach. I’m older than dirt and I don’t mind looking at her.”
“I know pole dancers who are more discreet. She could wear some fucking shorts around those seventeen-year-old boys. What’s she like in the classroom?”
“How would I know?”
“I’m going to find a way to get her to stop, without ruffling her feathers or getting her in trouble.” She pissed Spencer off but—even he almost had a woody, so those boys must be a hot mess right now.
“Now, I gotta have a trainer—where can I get one right away?”
“Put the boys on the job,” he said. “They’ll bring you one or recommend someone they know. There are plenty of boys who couldn’t make the team but love to be part of the action. And if you need me, I’ll train him.”
Spencer handed Rayburough a notebook. “I put together a weight training supplement that I think these kids should be on. How’s the overall nutrition on this team? They typically get enough protein? They have to force carbs, but they need protein to build muscle. You have any way of watching that? Because we need a little more muscle on that field and I want them well fed and hydrated.”
“I print out a workout diet guide every year—I think you’ll find most of these boys get great support from their families. They’ll provide what you ask for—they need the scholarships.”
Spencer decided right then he was going to do a little investigating. He could probably ask Landon for input. There was no way a player would come to him and confess he wasn’t getting enough food. But if there was anyone from a family who couldn’t afford the five eggs or broiled beef or steamed legumes or cheese and cracked wheat, Spencer knew ways to supplement that would get a player strong and healthy. He wasn’t going to have anyone collapse out there.
The locker room was filled with wet, half-naked boys, the showers still running. Spencer blew his whistle. It became instantly quiet as a church, even the water stopped running.
“I’m going to be here at eight tomorrow morning and at two tomorrow afternoon. It’s not a training day but anyone interested in talking about the best nutritional program for energy and body building should show up. And, after a short discussion about that, I’m willing to talk about some plays. I brought my playbook. I’m pretty sure my last team had a few you’ve never seen. This is not required—I know many of you have work and family obligations—don’t worry, I’ll catch you up next week if you have to sit this one out. This is entirely optional. Hey, good workout today, men. If you keep showing me your stuff like that, we’ll go far.”
Eight o’clock the next morning, the entire team was crowded into the locker room, waiting for him. Once he got over the shock of seeing them all there he realized that any of their parents or bosses would have excused them for anything to do with football.
Now the pressure was on....
* * *
Because school would start in less than a month, Dr. Grant’s clinic was pretty booked on Saturdays. The only serious situation was a laceration on the palm of a fisherman who carried a good many scars in roughly the same place. Devon helped with the treatment and the cleanup and then she sat down and put her head between her knees for a few moments. Scott laughed at her.
Blood bothered Devon, it always had. Once she cut her finger, pretty deeply, and had to lie down on the floor with a towel wrapped around it until she was no longer faint. “I’ll get better,” she told Scott. “At least I hope so.”
Around three that afternoon, Spencer came into the clinic. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “I have an appointment with the doctor.”
She looked at her computer screen. “I don’t have you down on the schedule.”
“Yeah, I know. I just called him. He said he can give me some time. And then, I was wondering, do you have plans for tonight?”
“Me? Plans?” At least she didn’t laugh out loud.
“You. Plans. I was thinking something simple. Relaxing. How about I bring a pizza over to your place. Or, I could take you and Mercy out for pizza, or something else if you’d like. I’m guessing you don’t have plans to go to the mall or a movie or something....”
Devon gave him a smile. She was a little surprised—she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she’d seen him on her lunch hour a day ago. With school starting soon she knew he’d been busy. “Pizza would be nice. I’ll give Mercy her mac and cheese and bath and we can have the pizza. It will be very quiet. There’s no TV or anything.”
“Just what I’m looking for. Seven too late?” he asked.
“Just late enough. I need a refresh. It’s been a long day in here. There was even blood!”
“Ewwww,” he said on a laugh. “Never expect that in a clinic, right?”
“Scott’s not with a patient right now so you can go back. I think he’s either in the office or the break room.”
The minute he was gone, she leaned her chin in her hand and smiled. She’d been thinking about him a lot but hadn’t expected that he would be thinking about her. He had a full and busy life.
The phone rang only twice while Spencer was talking to Scott, then they came out to the front together and Spencer was thanking him. Then he said to Devon, “See you tonight.”
“Sure,” she said.
And he was out the door.
Scott stood there beside her desk. She finally looked up at him. He lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Date?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s exactly that. We’re going to have a pizza together tonight.”
“I know you’ve been out of circulation for a while, but that’s a date in my book.”
“Spencer is a friend. And neighbor.”
Scott shook his head. “Devon, friends and neighbors date...”
The realization came to her slowly. She had gone to the wedding with Scott, danced with him and yet had not considered it a date. But this time she knew it was, because she wanted it to be. When you want a man to be your date—whether it’s champagne and flowers or pizza—it’s because you’re hoping it might go somewhere. And where, Devon McAllister asked herself, where do you think it’s going to go?
Her brows were drawn together fiercely, she could feel it. Then she heard Scott say, “Devon, I know you have problems to sort out, but the world won’t stop turning if you laugh. Have a good time. Enjoy yourself.”
“I guess that’s right,” she said.
“Are we done for the day?” he asked.
“You are,” she said. “I have some charts to enter. So as long as I’m here, I’ll answer the phone and add appointments to your roster for next week.”
“And I’m going to grab a cup of coffee, then head home. I’ll probably see you there when you pick up Mercy. Unless you’d like her to stay over so you can be alone with—”
“No! I mean, no, thank you. It’s not that kind of date.”
* * *
Scott could’ve had his cup of coffee at the clinic—they had a pot on. Or he could’ve gone out to the beach bar and had a beer to go along with his self-pity. Instead he went to the diner where he found Gina behind the counter and only a few teenagers in a back booth.
“Hey, I don’t usually see you this time of day,” he said, sitting in front of her.
“I’m usually long gone by now, but I’m covering for Ashley until four or so. She’s been out on the bay with a couple of her friends and Eric, her father.”
“That must be kind of interesting, being reunited with her father.”
Gina laughed. “There’s no ‘re’ about it—Eric took off when I was three months pregnant. We were kids...he ran far and fast. I found him last spring when I was looking for medical history for Ash—I realized I knew nothing about his side of the family and thought I’d better get some basic information. That got the ball rolling and they wanted to meet.”
“I didn’t realize,” Scott said.
“I raised her alone, with the help of my mother,” she said.
“What’s it like, seeing him again after so long?”
She shrugged. “He just says a quick hello if he’s going to be spending a little time with Ashley. And he’s not too intense about it—he sees her every couple of weeks. They’re developing a nice friendship, I think. But for me? Amazing how much water has gone over the dam. Life goes on.”
Not always, Scott thought. “You know, you and I had a couple of dates, right before you married Mac...”
She smiled. “We did.”
“Got any girlfriends? I’m not doing that great in the dating department. And I’d like my life to go on...”
She tilted her head and smiled sympathetically. “Scott, are you sure you’re ready?”
“My wife died almost four years ago....”
“I know. But everyone is different. Maybe it’s taking you a while—no shame in that. Be patient—when the perfect woman comes along, everything will fall into place.”
“How am I going to know the perfect woman if I don’t even date a potential perfect woman? I was just building up to asking Devon if we could go out to dinner and someone jumped in line ahead of me!”
Gina laughed.
He put his elbow on the counter and leaned his head into his hand. He groaned. “Shit. I’m pathetic, right?”
Gina poured him a cup of coffee. When he finally looked up, she was smiling. “Scott, you’ve known Devon for a while now. She’s worked for you for over a month. You keep her three-year-old in your home. If you had the hots for her, it wouldn’t have taken you this long.”
“It takes hots?”
She nodded gravely. “It takes hots. Right now you’ve got a real cozy deal—a nice new clinic, a good babysitter, from what you say an excellent clinic manager, plenty of time with your profession and your family, everything covered, everything handled. You’re free and clear—when the right woman shows her face, you’re ready. You’ll know it in minutes. Until you’re really ready, you might not recognize her.”
“What makes you think I’m not ready?”
Gina smiled. “You really want to hear this? Be sure, because I’m not real crazy about saying it.”
“Lay it on me. Please.”
She put her hand over one of his. “Our two dates? Were very enjoyable. You’re a very good date. And I was interested in your life, your relationship with your wife, and your kids. But you talked about your wife through two entire dates.”
