Golden Trail (16 page)

They approached, the boys giving Rocky
smiles, all of them friendly except Smithfield’s which was overt
and made Layne expend some effort in trying to stop himself from
ramming Smithfield’s teeth down his throat, and then they settled
at the fence. Rocky started eating her hotdog and his eyes went to
the field.

Jasper was a starter and had been since
halfway through his freshman season. It was extremely rare for a
kid in this ‘burg – a haven of all sports but especially football
since the team had either gone to, or won, State nine times in the
last two decades – to make the varsity team in his freshman year
but Jasper did it playing tight end. Now he played tight end
offense, linebacker defense, he was being scouted and Layne hoped
to all hell someone pulled his boy in on even a partial ride
because his grades sure as fuck weren’t going to get him into
college.

Tripp had surprised him by following in his
brother’s footsteps. He made varsity too, even though he was a
freshman. Layne knew his son was good, had seen him play in junior
high and before and he’d always shined so bright the other players
didn’t exist on the field. But that was always playing with kids
his own age, therefore, Layne thought the high school boys would
chew him up.

They didn’t. Tripp became everything not
Tripp on the football field. Not yet as tall as his brother, but
faster, more agile and cold as ice. He was playing wide receiver
and when he was on the field his focus was so intense, it was clear
the world outside those one hundred yards ceased to exist.

If Tripp bulked out, which he probably would
in the next year, he’d have to find a different position. For now,
that was where he was which was unfortunate. Coach Adrian
Cosgrove’s son was a senior, a wide receiver and not a great one.
Tripp hadn’t played much because Cosgrove wanted any scouts there
to get a look at his boy. Layne suspected this would be unpopular
because whenever Tripp played, it was clear he could run circles
around Cosgrove’s kid. The rabid Bulldogs fans who lived and
breathed high school football did not care about Cosgrove’s kid,
they cared about winning and they would not put up with nepotism
for long. Cosgrove further wasn’t liked because, since he moved up
from assistant coach to take over for the beloved, long-time head
coach three years ago, the ‘dogs hadn’t gone past regionals. He was
feeling the heat and nasty rumors about Cosgrove’s temper were
spreading. Layne didn’t know if they were true, and neither Jasper
nor Tripp shared, which Layne reckoned was another item for a
future agenda for breakfast conversation.

Unfortunately, this all became evident in
the second quarter when Cosgrove’s son went off the field for a
play, he sent Tripp in and then Cosgrove called a passing play. If
he wanted his boy to shine, this was an asinine decision because
Tripp was damned good but when he wasn’t on the field, their
passing game was garbage. Even if another receiver was open, every
long pass was thrown to Cosgrove’s son, who hadn’t caught a single
toss and had even been intercepted twice. The only passes caught
were short shots, nabbed and run by Jasper.

Therefore, when the ball was put in play,
Tripp shot forward, got open within seconds and the quarterback,
under some pressure, let fly. The ball was thrown high but Tripp
jumped at least three feet in the air, arm extended to the maximum,
tagged the pass, pulling the fucking thing down with his
fingertips. He tucked the ball close, ducked his head, deflected
two tackles and ran forty-three yards for a touchdown.

The crowd went berserk, every last one on
the purple and white side, including Rocky standing in front of
him. With her arms straight in the air, she jumped up and down on
her fancy-ass boots, her ponytail swinging wildly right in his
face, she was screaming her lungs out without even a freaking hint
of the decorum a high school English Literature teacher should
display at a school activity.

“That’s it, Tripp!” she shouted as Tripp ran
off the field right in front of them, jerking down the straps of
his chin guard, he heard her and his eyes went to the fence. “You
rock!
” she yelled, pointing at him.

Such was his worship of Rocky, for once,
Tripp’s intensity slipped, he grinned at her through his faceguard
and then he was tagged viciously with a slap upside the helmet that
came from the flat of Coach Cosgrove’s hand, causing Tripp’s head
to jerk unnaturally toward his shoulder pad, so hard, Tripp’s
helmet was ripped clean off his head. Then Cosgrove shoved Tripp’s
shoulder pad once, twice, three times and finally Tripp started
moving back unable to stand firm under the obvious violence of the
blows when Cosgrove went through the fourth, fifth and sixth and
then he stopped.

“Head in the game, Layne!” Cosgrove bellowed
in a voice that carried.

The crowd, seeing this, had quieted and
Rocky went statue-still in front of Layne but Layne didn’t really
notice it. His vision had clouded, his body had locked, his fists
had clenched and his mouth had gone dry.

“Tanner,” Colt muttered and Layne could feel
him close.

When Rocky heard Colt, her body moved, her
shoulder brushing his chest as she turned to him but his eyes were
locked on his son standing on the sideline. Tripp was looking at
his cleats while Cosgrove stood close, his mouth at Tripp’s ear,
spittle coming out with the force of his continuing tirade,
shouting it an inch from his boy’s ear.

“You pay attention
to me
and what’s
happening on
that field!
I don’t care if
the Virgin
Mary
appears and is shouting at you, you keep your effin’
head in the game!
”

“Lay off, Coach!”

Layne heard it and knew it came from Gabby
but he didn’t move a muscle.

“Layne,” Rocky whispered and he felt her
hands on his abs.

“Hear me!” Cosgrove roared.

“Hear you, Coach,” Layne heard Tripp
reply.

“Good, bench,” Cosgrove jerked a hand at the
bench and Tripp didn’t hesitate to take a seat. He bent to snatch
up his helmet, head bowed, his eyes still to his cleats, he turned
his back on the bleachers as fast as he could and sat his ass
down.

“Layne, sweetheart,” Rocky whispered and he
looked down at her to see her head turned toward Tripp. She must
have felt his gaze because it quickly moved back to him.

He stared in her eyes and he tried to find a
reason not to jump the fence and rip Coach Cosgrove’s head off.

“Layne, dude, you good?” Morrie was close
too and he put a hand to Layne’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t touch me now,” Layne said
quietly and Morrie’s hand disappeared instantly from his
shoulder.

“Morrie asked if you’re good, Tanner,” Colt
said softly.

“Yep,” Layne lied.

His friends stayed close and so did Rocky,
Rocky doing it by moving to his side, wrapping her arms around him
and putting her head to his shoulder.

This felt good, it felt very good. But it
didn’t strip a single layer off the thick wall of fury fencing him
in and he stayed still, not moving a muscle until halftime when
Rocky got his attention by pressing into him.

He looked down at her only after he lost
sight of both of his boys after they entered the locker room.

“You want a soda?” she asked quietly.

“Nope,” he answered.

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“Cocoa?”

“No.”

“You okay?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Oh boy,” she whispered then he felt her
body jolt against his, her arms moved from around him and she
stepped away.

He saw her looking around him and he heard
Silvestri mutter, “Oh fuck,” when he turned around and saw Gabby,
Stew trailing, bearing down on him.

“You gonna quit snugglin’ with your
girlfriend
long enough to do something about
that,
”
she jabbed a finger at the field, “Tanner?” she leaned into him
antagonistically, “hunh?”

“Not now, Gabby,” Layne murmured.

“Tripp’s so damned excited that his Dad’s
bangin’ High and Mighty Raquel Astley, he doesn’t have his fuckin’
head in the game!” she screeched.

Before Layne could say a word or find a
reason why he shouldn’t rip the head off his kids’ Mom, Rocky
spoke.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately, “I
shouldn’t have –”

“No you shouldn’t!” Gabby shrieked.

“I’m thinkin’ you need to calm down, woman,”
Joe Callahan suggested in a way that sounded more like a
warning.

“It’s okay, it was my fault,” Rocky
stated.

“Damn straight it was,” Gabby snapped.

“No, it wasn’t,” Layne said, his voice
sounding like a rumble and his eyes cut to Gabby. “I’ll deal with
Cosgrove.”

“Oh yeah? How?” Gabby shot back.

“Don’t worry about it and don’t,” he
hesitated searching for control, “ever,” he hesitated again, losing
the control he found and searching for it again, “speak to or about
Rocky that way again. Do you hear me?”

“You have
got
to be jokin’!” Gabby
shouted. “She’s outta her husband’s house a month and you’re in her
pants!”

Layne took a step toward her, Gabby took a
step back, Stew, he noted with disgust, took
two
fucking
steps back leaving Gabby shifting in the wind and both Colt and Cal
came up to his sides.

“Your situation is precarious, Gabby,” he
informed her, his voice low, he was aware they had an audience and
that audience was listening. “Do not push me. Understand?”

“Go to hell, Tanner!” she snapped.

He turned away from her and walked back to
Rocky. Then he slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her
into his side. He felt the tension ebb out of the boys around him
and he knew Gabby and Stew had retreated and only then did he tip
his head down to see she was staring at the top of the fence and
biting her lip.

“Sweetcheeks,” he called quietly and watched
her head tilt back. When he caught her eyes he noted, “One ex down,
one to go, we’re halfway there.”

She stared at him for a second.

Then she gave him the dimple.

* * * * *

There were a fair amount of people milling
about after the game and Layne knew why.

Both Jasper and Tripp were going out for
pizza, Jas responsible for getting his brother home so there was
only one reason Layne would remain after the game.

Therefore Colt, Morrie and Cal remained too
and Rocky’s Dad, Dave and his cronies Ernie and Spike were also
sticking close.

So did Gabrielle, but Stew was nowhere to be
seen.

Some of the crowd was waiting around to see
what Layne would do. The rest of them were likely there to give
moral support or, perhaps, set up the ladder for Layne to climb in
order to swing Cosgrove’s noose around a stout branch.

The folks in that town liked their football
but they also looked after their kids. Cosgrove’s abuse of Tripp
had been widely witnessed and an unpopular man struggling to keep
his footing in that community had not only slipped, he’d come
crashing to the ground.

Most of the players had come out when Jasper
and Tripp came out together. When they did, Layne saw that Jasper
was so close to his brother, he was crowding him but Tripp didn’t
notice. His mind was elsewhere. He’d stayed benched the second half
and he’d been humiliated in front of his friends, his schoolmates
and half the town.

Jasper saw Layne first and he started with
surprise, his eyes darted to his Mom and then came back to
Layne.

Gabby closed in on Tripp.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

Tripp took a quick step away from her, not
wanting to be mothered, not anytime at fourteen years old and
especially not then.

“Yeah, Mom,” he muttered.

Layne approached but Rocky stayed clear,
standing in a huddle with Josie Judd, February Colton, Violet
Callahan and Violet’s extremely pretty daughter, Keira.

The minute Layne met Keira between the third
and fourth quarters when the women had decided that they’d given it
enough time, they’d borne down on Rocky and infiltrated the boys
long enough to pull Raquel aside for a quick, voices lowered
discussion before they all returned and hung out with the men,
Layne could see why Jas had been hooked.

He stopped close to Jasper, Tripp and Gabby
and said, “Good game, Jas. Tripp, sweet tag and great run,
Pal.”

Tripp tipped his head back just enough to
look at his father under his brow and then bent his neck again.

“Great catch, kid,” Cal said, coming up to
Layne’s side, Tripp shrugged, not looking at him then Cal went on.
“You Jasper?”

“Yes sir,” Jasper replied.

“Layne says you’re goin’ for pizza,” Cal
remarked.

“Yeah,” Jasper answered.

“Keira wants to go. You think you could get
her there, bring her home?”

This was something Keira had finagled during
the fourth quarter (giving cause to her hanging out with the
adults) through a girl gang ambush of Cal that included her mother,
Feb, Josie and Rocky while Cal stood, arms crossed on his chest,
his eyes to the heavens. Rocky had not been wrong. Keira Winters
definitely liked Jasper and it was evident she was tired of waiting
around for him to make his move. Layne knew this because, during
her finagling, she and her posse had succeeded in enlisting Cal for
the maneuver he’d just delivered.

Tripp’s head jerked around to look at his
brother but Jasper looked toward Rocky, Keira and the other women
then he looked back at Layne.

“Why’re you hangin’ around, Dad?” he
asked.

Layne didn’t delay in replying. “Waitin’ for
Coach.”

Tripp’s body got tight and Jasper’s face got
hard before he looked at Tripp then to Cal then to Keira.

Then he yelled, “Hey Keira, can you wait a
sec for pizza?”

“Yeah,” Keira shouted back.