Homecoming (A Boys of Fall Novel) (14 page)

—

T
hursday afternoon, Sam whistled as he made his way to his tiny office, feeling better than he had in a long time. Maybe better than he could ever remember feeling. He’d spent the previous evening with a woman who made him laugh and turned him inside out in all the best ways, and he’d come up with a great new trick play to run by PJ at practice.

Life was damn good. It was so good, in fact, that on the drive home from Jen’s house—since he didn’t spend the night due to it being a school night—he’d caught himself thinking about the weak job market in the area and wondering if he’d be able to find work if he stayed in town after Coach was cleared to take back the whistle.

He’d almost driven off the road when it truly sank in that he’d been considering staying. In Stewart Mills—the town he’d sworn he’d never even return to. He’d had a good reason for coming back both times, but the idea of calling the town home again should never have crossed his mind.

But once it did, he couldn’t seem to shake the idea. And he’d awakened that morning with a sense of optimism about the future that wasn’t familiar, but had him in a good mood.

He nodded to the gym teacher as he walked through the gymnasium to his office, sticking close to the wall so as not to disrupt the class. But when he got to the door, he saw a pink message slip taped to the whiteboard Coach McDonnell had screwed to the door so the guys could leave him a note if they stopped by when he wasn’t around.

Sam’s name was on it, so he pulled it free, scowling at the name and number written below it. He didn’t recognize either, but the box was checked to indicate whoever it was would like a return call.

After closing the door of his claustrophobic office to cut out the noise, Sam glared for a few seconds at the big desk phone with its overabundance of buttons and lights before pulling out his cell phone.

The mystery caller answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Sam Leavitt from Stewart Mills. I got a message you called?”

“Sam! Neil Page.” Sam’s scowl deepened as the man explained who he was. The assistant coach of the team they’d beat for homecoming—the one he’d recognized as being part of the team Stewart Mills had beat back when Sam was quarterback.

“Was there a problem?” he asked when the man took a
breath. If he was calling to complain about the facilities or some imagined misconduct on the part of one of the Eagles, he was barking up the wrong tree.

“No problem at all. I actually wanted to talk to you about something, but with a forty-five-minute drive between us and the season in full swing, I’m not sure we can get together.”

Sam was still waiting to find out
why
he wanted to get together and wished he’d get on with it. “Yeah, my schedule’s pretty tight.”

“I’d rather talk to you in person, but the phone will do. Do you have a few minutes now?”

He chuckled. “I called you, so I must.”

“Good point. So here’s the deal. Coach McDonnell’s one of the most respected coaches in the state and high school football’s a pretty close community, so we all know how tough it’s been up there. You were one of his best. Hell, you even managed to steal my championship. But more importantly, seeing how the team is holding up after the rough year they’ve had is a testament to how good you are on the sidelines.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t say anything else because he still couldn’t see where the conversation was leading and he didn’t like that.

“Our coach is retiring at the end of the school year,” Neil continued. “Not many people know yet, so I’d rather you kept that under your hat. Especially with the team. Who knows how hooked up they all are on social media. But anyway, I’ve already been offered the position.”

“Congratulations.” Neil coached at a big regional school with a fat football budget, so he’d be sitting pretty.

“Thanks. I’m kind of . . . clinical. Strategy and conditioning and stuff like that. I need a head assistant coach who can
really connect with the team and keep them on track, like you have with the Eagles. I know you came back to fill in for Coach McDonnell, but I’d like for you to consider coming and coaching with me next season. It’s a paid position. You won’t get rich, but the cost of living’s pretty low around here.”

Sam rocked back in his chair, trying to wrap his head around the fact he was being offered a job coaching football. His first instinct was to laugh at the guy, but he held it back and gave himself a few seconds to process it.

He had to admit he enjoyed coaching football a lot more than he’d anticipated. And forty-five minutes wasn’t too far away. It was close enough to drive up on a Saturday and visit Coach and Mrs. McDonnell before hanging out with Alex and Chase. He could see his mom.

And Jen. They were having a fling—they’d both made that pretty clear—but he knew in his gut their connection went deeper than that. It wasn’t just about the sex and if he didn’t go back to Texas, they were going to have to figure that out.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said finally, in case Neil hadn’t figured that out on his own. “This is unexpected.”

“I know, but the good news is you have time to think about it because it’s not something we’re going to start giving too much time to until the season’s over. But I wanted to touch base with you before Coach McDonnell is on his feet again and you head back to . . . somewhere down south, isn’t it?”

“Texas.” He blew out a breath. “And I’ll think about it, but yeah, I’ll need some time.”

The transition from wanting to get the hell out of Stewart Mills to thinking maybe it wasn’t so bad and then getting an
offer that would land him nearby on a more permanent basis was too much, and his mind was reeling.

“If you want to get together and have a more in-depth conversation about our football program, just let me know. We could probably find a place halfway between us to grab a meal.”

“I’ll let you know.”

When the call was over, Sam saved the number in his phone so he’d be able to find it again and then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Living in New Hampshire, coaching high school football. Not in a million years would he have imagined that as a possible future for himself. Yet here it was, his for the taking if he wanted it.

The old anger and resentment tried to rear their heads, but he forced them down. He was through letting his past dictate his future.

But even as he let that determination sweep over him, he decided he wasn’t going to tell anybody about Neil’s offer quite yet. It’s what pretty much everybody in his life would want for him, and if he couldn’t do it, he didn’t want to let them down. Until he’d sorted through his feelings about staying in the state, he was going to keep it to himself.

How would Jen react? He couldn’t help asking himself the question as he got up to open the door and let some air in, even if it came with the noise. Even if he moved forty-five minutes away, he’d still be in Stewart Mills a lot. Her best friends were marrying his best friends. They’d run into each other.

For a few seconds, he even allowed himself to imagine her going with him. It was a big school system, so maybe
they could find a place for her. They could make a home together and . . .

The sense of longing was so intense it almost weakened his knees, so Sam slammed the door on those thoughts. He had to figure out—on his own—what the hell he was doing with his life before he could even think about sharing it with somebody
else.

O
n Sunday morning, Sam drove to Eagles Lane and parked in Coach’s driveway. Mrs. McDonnell had called him and offered him breakfast in exchange for going for a walk with her husband. The doctor wanted him walking more, but she had things to do and didn’t like him walking alone. Sam also suspected the unusual amount of together time was starting to wear on them, though she’d never admit it.

He would have done it even without the bribe of a home-cooked meal, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Since he was expected, he knocked twice and then let himself in.

“We’re in the kitchen,” he heard Mrs. McDonnell call.

He followed the aromas of coffee and what he thought at first was bacon. But then he realized it wasn’t
real
bacon and felt a pang of sympathy for Coach. After shaking the older man’s hand, he kissed Mrs. McDonnell’s cheek,
moving quickly so he didn’t interfere with her plating the food. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Sam. Perfect timing, as always. If you pour juice for everybody, I’ll finish this up.”

He hated orange juice, but he kept his mouth shut and poured three glasses. Kelly had told Chase, who’d told Sam that there had been an epic battle in the McDonnell household over coffee. Mrs. McDonnell wanted him to only drink decaffeinated, and Coach wanted none of that. He refused to drink it in the mornings and his wife had said it was decaf or nothing. He’d gone with nothing and there hadn’t been a cup of real coffee brewed since then.

No wonder she was desperate to pawn him off on Sam.

He smiled his way through an omelet made with fake eggs, served with fake bacon and dry wheat toast. And he washed it down with the orange juice without even shuddering. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to jump on invitations to breakfast at the McDonnell house during the remainder of his time there. Even if he took Neil up on the job offer, he’d be too far away for impromptu breakfast invitations and right now, that didn’t look like such a bad thing.

“Thank you,” he said to Mrs. McDonnell as he stood and started clearing the table. “It was delicious, as always.”

“Liar,” Coach mumbled into his napkin.

Mrs. McDonnell gave her husband a look. “Hush. You can’t help make a boy into a good man like Sam and then call him names when he acts right.”

Sam wisely kept his mouth shut and piled the dirty dishes on the counter. While there was an edge to it that was new, the McDonnells had bickered in the kitchen for as long as he’d known them. At first it had made him nervous because in his
experience, spousal sniping led to drinking and yelling and hitting. But he’d learned very quickly there was genuine affection between the coach and his wife, even when they argued, and that Coach would throw himself in front of a logging truck before he lifted a hand to her.

“You guys go. Walk. Skip. Steal skateboards from some kids. I don’t care what you do as long as you do it out of this house.” Mrs. McDonnell waved a hand in Coach’s direction. “And don’t think I don’t know you’ll use every minute of it to complain about how awful it is having a wife who wants to keep you alive for a good long while yet.”

Sam couldn’t hold back the smile, so he turned his back and took his time rinsing the disgusting pulp out of the orange juice glasses. Once Coach had put on a coat and his shoes, Sam kissed Mrs. McDonnell’s cheek again and went out into the chilly air. It was a little brisk, but there was no wind and the sun was warm. Once they started walking, they’d be warm enough.

“Do you have gloves?” he asked. “In case your hands—”

“Don’t.”

Sam dropped the subject and shoved his own hands into his coat pockets. He knew it had to be hard for Coach McDonnell. It didn’t come naturally to him to be fussed over or to have to ask for help. And there was no sense in Sam trying to explain he’d scared them and they loved him and wanted him to be healthy. He knew that, too, but it wouldn’t make it any easier to accept being coddled.

“Did you hear there’s a buyer for the old mill?” Coach asked as they neared the end of the street.

“Somebody said there have been rumors of it off and on for a while.”

“There has, but the rumors are true this time. I guess they make some kind of furniture kits. Modular desks or something that you custom order on the Internet, and then they make the pieces and send them to you to put together. Something like that, anyway.”

Sam followed Coach’s lead and they turned right toward the town square. He didn’t think they’d make it that far, but it wasn’t like they had any other destination in mind. “Sounds like the kind of thing that would be mostly automated.”

“I guess it is to a point, but they said they’ll be hiring at least thirty people at first, if not more. This is an expansion for them, so they’re not bringing a big workforce with them.”

“Every job helps.”

“Amen to that.” Coach nodded, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. “If it happens, it’ll be a damn good thing for this town. Eagles Fest might have lifted everybody’s spirits for a while, and it definitely helped keep the kids on track, but it’s going to take solid employment to really make a difference.”

Sam nodded, and then asked the question that was really on his mind. He’d been more introspective than usual since Neil’s call, but he had a lot to work through. “Why did you have Kelly call me?”

“I told you, we didn’t have any stability in the coaching staff and I didn’t want them hiring somebody else while I was off my feet.”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen this town pull together and you didn’t need me. They wouldn’t have replaced you. Hell, Kelly would have coached them herself if she had to.”

“You’re probably right about that.” Coach snorted. “Those three girls can get anything done if they put their
minds to it. But growing up with a dad who coaches football doesn’t make you a coach.”

“Neither does playing the game fourteen years ago. I don’t think it’s about you at all. I think it’s about me. You wanted me back here and neither you nor Kelly was going to take no for an answer.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back if you didn’t have a damn good reason,” Coach said after a long silence. “And I think you needed to come back and spend a little time in Stewart Mills.”

“I hadn’t come back for almost fifteen years and was doing just fine.”

“You
think
you were.”

Sam felt a rare flash of anger at the old man. Coach didn’t know anything about his life in Texas. He had a good job and a place to call his own and he’d been doing just fine before Kelly emotionally blackmailed him into returning for Eagles Fest. And then he’d gone back to doing okay, more or less, until Kelly called him back for a second time. “What, because I don’t have a wife and a bunch of kids, I’m broken somehow?”

Coach stopped walking and turned to give him a hard stare. “Not for a second have I ever thought you were broken, son. You know that.”

The temper faded as quickly as it had come. “I do know that.”

They started walking again, more slowly now. “When you came back here in July, stuff got stirred up inside of you. Like kicking over a log that’s been sitting a long time. There’s stuff under there and it scurried into the light. You weren’t here long
enough to deal with it, and you can never get that log back into the right spot with everything under it again.”

Sam laughed, even though the truth in the other man’s words made him a little uncomfortable. “That’s one of the worst analogies ever, Coach.”

“I couldn’t come up with a good football-themed one. But you know what I mean.”

Yeah, he did. “What are you hoping I’ll find?”

Coach stopped walking and turned to face him again, but this time his expression was softer. “I hope you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on. That’s corny even for a guy who’s spent God knows how many years giving inspirational speeches to teenagers.”

“Maybe so, but what I said will sit and stew in your subconscious for a while.” As if Sam didn’t have enough stewing in there already. “How long have we been walking?”

“I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes?”

“Dammit. That’s not enough. Let’s keep going.”

Sam shrugged and kept pace with him. “The stronger you get, the faster you can get back to running herd on your teenagers and I can get back to my actual job.”

On the drive over, he’d recommitted to not telling anybody about the offer. Not even Coach. Or maybe
especially
not Coach. If Sam decided to stay, he had to know he was doing it only for himself. It felt like lying, but he needed a better handle on it before he let Coach in.

“You sound like you’re in an awful hurry to leave town for a guy who’s seeing an attractive, smart and all-around wonderful woman like Jen Cooper.”

Sam’s stomach dropped and he sighed deeply. “Me being
here is about you and the football team. It has nothing to do with Jen.”

“But leaving will have something to do with Jen, one way or the other.”

“I don’t know what kind of medications they have you on, Coach, but you’re talking in circles more than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“Just seems like starting a relationship with a woman when you’re not planning on sticking around isn’t a real stand-up thing to do.”

“It is if she knows up front I’m not sticking around.”

“So it’s one of those casual things? Like friends with benefits or whatever you kids call it?”

“More or less.” He did
not
want to talk about this with Coach.

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

Sam frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Must be the medications addling my brain.”

“Funny.” Sam glanced sideways at him. “I know what this is. Chase fell in love with Kelly and Alex fell in love with Gretchen, so now the whole damn town is convinced I have to fall in love with Jen. Even you.”

“Does have a nice symmetry to it, don’t you think?” Coach snickered when Sam made a growling sound deep in his throat.

“That’s not how it is.” Or so he kept telling himself, in between those moments he wondered if that was true anymore.

Coach held up one hand. “I don’t want the finer details on how it is. She’s practically a daughter to me. Her and Gretchen, both. I won’t interfere, but because of that relationship, I do want to say one thing.”

Sam stopped when he did, forcing himself to look the other man in the eye. Whatever was coming, Coach was very serious about it. He knew the tone.

“Sound travels in old houses and I got the gist of what happened with you and Jen during Eagles Fest. And that’s none of my business. But I also got the impression you left town without saying good-bye. Is that true?”

Sam swallowed hard and gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir. But I—”

“You’re a runner. Someday you’re going to have to quit running. But if you decide to leave Stewart Mills, you stand up like a goddamn man and you tell that girl you’re leaving. Maybe it’ll hurt her or maybe it won’t, but don’t you run out on her.”

“I won’t.”

“If you do, I’ll fly down to Texas and kick your ass, do you hear me? I don’t care if it kills me.”

“We’ve been up-front with each other, Coach. We both know I’m not what she’s looking for in a husband and this place is not what I’m looking for in a home.” But he hadn’t known she’d been hurt by his leaving without saying good-bye, and it bothered him. He honestly thought she’d been relieved to see him go. “I won’t run out on her without saying good-bye.”

“Good.” Coach stared at him for another few seconds before nodding as if he’d seen the truth of Sam’s intentions on his face. “I guess I’m ready to turn around now. If Helen won’t let us back in the house yet, we can sit on the porch. Or sit in my car with the heat and the music on.”

Sam turned, smiling at the mental image of the two of them sitting in a running vehicle in the driveway because
Mrs. McDonnell hadn’t had enough husband-free time yet. “Just do me a favor?”

“What’s that, son?”

“Can we just talk about sports now?”

As it turned out, Mrs. McDonnell didn’t lock them out. But as soon as Coach and Sam were settled in the living room to warm up and finish their conversation about who had the best-conditioned athletes in the NFL, she grabbed her coat and keys and practically ran out of the house to do some errands.

But she stopped long enough to give her cranky husband a kiss before she left, and it warmed Sam’s heart. This was what he’d always wanted and hadn’t found, he thought. People thought he was single because his parents’ marriage had scarred him. And maybe it had, both emotionally and physically, but he was single because he hadn’t found what the McDonnells had yet.

And when Jen popped into his head, laughing and eyes shining, he deliberately mentioned an NFL coach known to be lax in discipline and conditioning just to annoy Coach. The ensuing debate would be heated enough to keep his thoughts in line. He hoped.

—

W
hat are you up to right now?

Jen felt her pulse kick up a notch when she read the text message from Sam. Telling herself it was her body associating his name with orgasms and not an emotional reaction, she pulled up the on-screen keyboard to respond.

Nothing much.
She’d been debating whether she needed enough staple items in the house to merit a trip down south to
stock up in the bigger—cheaper—stores. If she did that, she could swing in and see her family for a while, since she bought perishables at the market in town.
What are you up to?

I had breakfast with the McDs. Went for a walk with Coach. Then I went and had lunch with my mom.

She hadn’t known he was doing that.
How’s your mom?

Good. It was a nice lunch. I invited her to O’Rourke’s for supper Friday night since we have a Saturday game this week.

Jen smiled, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Healing his relationship with his mother was hugely important to Sam, even if he himself didn’t recognize how much.
So are you trying for a hat trick of free meals that you don’t have to cook?

After a few seconds, he sent back three question marks.