Impulsive (22 page)

The following week, everything went downhill. Each practice
session seemed to bring with it a new disaster. On Tuesday, Dino Sherwood broke
his collarbone during the scrimmage. He'd be out of action for most of the
remaining season. Wednesday morning, the coach announced that Brice Tackett,
their best tight end, had been arrested for DWI and would be on temporary
suspension until the matter was resolved.

This initiated an unexpected on-the-spot drug testing, or as the
players had labeled it, a "whiz quiz." Doc Johnson, the team
physician, handed each of them a name-labeled bottle at the rest room door and
collected it again as each man left. Even the coaches had to submit a urine
sample, though Jess was allowed to donate hers in the privacy of the ladies'
rest room while Johnson waited in the outer hallway. While all this was done as
efficiently as possible, it was still a lengthy procedure, causing practice
that day to run over by an hour.

Havoc reigned Thursday when Doc Johnson proclaimed that two of the
players had failed the drug test. The first was Rick Tanner, a veteran
offensive guard. This came as a terrific shock
to
everyone, including Rick—particularly since it was well-known that he and his
wife Michelle were devout Christians.

"Now hold the phone, Doc," he protested. "There's
no way I could have flunked that drug test. I haven't even taken an aspirin in
the past two weeks!"

"No, but it looks like you've been smoking some pot,"
Doc rebutted. "You're on the bench until I decide you're clean."

The second man on the list was Sir Loin Simms, who also protested
his innocence, with the same results—though his test had shown traces of crack
cocaine.

"This is preposterous!" Ty, as the team leader, was not
buying it, and voiced his complaint loudly. "Doc, Coach, I know these men.
Neither of them would jeopardize their careers this way."

Danvers held out his hands in a defeated gesture. "I'm sorry.
My hands are tied. I have to abide by Doc Johnson's ruling. The only thing I
can do is request that they be retested as soon as possible."

"But they're vital to us." Rambo pointed out the
obvious. "Without them on the field, the Oilers are gonna walk all over
us. On our first Monday night game on TV, too!"

"Well, I'm not taking this lying down," Rick declared.
"I'm going to call my lawyer and have him meet me at the hospital, where
I'm going to have them run another test. I want witnesses to the fact that I'm
no druggie."

"What are you implying, Tanner?" Doc Johnson puffed up
like a rooster, his face flaming in anger. "That I'm incompetent?"

"Not necessarily," Rick said, "but something went
wrong with your test. Maybe the lab screwed up, or the container was
contaminated. I don't know. All I'm sure of is that I have never smoked a joint
in my life, and no one is going to say otherwise and get away with it."

"Hey, man! Can I come with you?" Sir Loin asked. "I
ain't got a lawyer in Columbus yet, but I'd be glad to pay yours if he'd help
me out, too."

"Now, let's all calm down here, fellows," Doc suggested.
"I can take another set of samples to a different lab, and it
won't
cost either of you a dime. Maybe Tanner is right, and the first tests got messed
up somehow. No sense blowing this thing all out of proportion."

Rick didn't look too sure. Sir Loin was wavering. Finally, under
Danvers' persuasion, they agreed, but only after Doc guaranteed the results
would be back by the next afternoon.

By the end of practice on Friday, everyone was on pins and
needles, waiting to hear the new lab findings. They got half their wish. Rick
Tanner's test was clear. Sir Loin's wasn't. Still maintaining his innocence,
Sir Loin marched off the field in a huff, defiantly stating that he was off to
engage an attorney.

With half of Friday and all weekend off, and no practice until
Monday morning in Memphis, it was a perfect time for Ty to take Josh for a
quick trip to Kentucky. Ty's parents lived in the small city of Bowling Green,
about a hundred and twenty miles south of Louisville. To her surprise, Ty
invited Jess to go along.

"How fast can you pack?" he asked her. "I'd like to
take you down and introduce you to my folks."

"Really? Won't bringing me along make your family start
asking a lot of questions?"

"Like your mom wanting to know what my intentions were?"

Jess nodded. "Precisely."

Ty shrugged. "I can handle it if you can," he told her.
"Don't worry. There's plenty of room, and Mom always cooks for an army. One
person, more or less, won't put her in a dither."

"Well," Jess hedged, though her curiosity was almost
more than she could stand, "if you're sure your parents won't mind."

"Just pack casual clothes for there," he said. "We
won't
be doing anything fancy. Mostly just hanging around the house so
Mom and Dad can get a good visit in with Josh."

"What about afterward? Are we going to drive all the way back
to Indianapolis with Josh, then back here to catch the flight to Memphis Sunday
night? That's going to cut your visit awfully short, not to mention all the
driving you'll have to do."

"It's all arranged. Mom and Dad are going to take Josh home
on Sunday evening," he explained. "You and I can drive back up to
Louisville and catch a flight to Memphis from there, which will leave us a
three and a half hour drive home on Tuesday."

"But last-minute flights are so expensive, Ty."

A sheepish look crossed his face. "I bought our tickets two
weeks ago, Jess, when they were running that fare-war special. I got them dirt
cheap."

Jess stared at him in wonder. "You bought mine then,
too?"

Despite Jess's trepidation, the weekend was great, and so was Ty's
family. Their home was large and welcoming, filled with a hodgepodge of
furniture chosen for comfort rather than fashion. Overstuffed sofas and chairs,
a trestle table and benches in the kitchen, cozy comforters and quilts on the
beds, and country curtains at the windows. It was a home where children could
feel free to play, without constantly being on guard against dirtying something
or breaking some expensive knick-knack. Outdoors, there was a big fenced-in
yard, complete with sandbox and swing set. The only drawback, in Jess's
estimation, was that the house was located next door to the funeral home,
albeit several yards away.

"You get used to it," Ty assured her, "and I can
categorically confirm that neither I nor any of my family have ever seen a
ghost flitting around."

"How would you like a tour of the mortuary while you're
here?" Wesley James offered with a grin reminiscent of Ty's. "I
think
we can drum up at least one body that needs embalming, if you'd care to
watch."

Jess fought not to turn green at the very thought. "No thank
you, Mr. James. I'll take a rain check on that, if you don't mind. Say the
second Tuesday of the fifth week in February?"

Wes winked at his son. "She's a quick one, isn't she,
Ty?"

"You haven't seen the half of it, Dad," Ty told him.

"Josh really has taken a shine to you, Miss Myers," Ty's
mother, Maggie, commented.

"Just call me Jess, please," Jess requested with a
smile. "And I've taken quite a liking to Josh, too. Does he resemble Ty
when he was young?"

"Like two peas in a pod," Maggie confirmed. "I'll
show you some of Ty's earlier pictures later, if you like."

Jess shot Ty a wide grin. "I'd love to see them. Do you have
any that might be useful as blackmail material? Say, Ty naked on a bearskin
rug, for instance?"

Maggie chuckled. "No bearskin, but I think there's one of him
on his training potty, with his drawers around his ankles."

"That'll do just fine," Jess said over Ty's loud groan.

"Geez, Mom! Give a poor guy a break, will you?"

"Sure, Ty. Just to be fair, I'll show Jess some of your
sisters' pictures, too."

On Saturday, Ty's three sisters and their families came to visit.
Unlike their brother, all three girls had settled within a few miles of their
parents. Karlie, the oldest, lived a block down the street. She was married to
an ex-coffin salesman, and the two of them now helped Wes run the funeral
parlor. Karlie and Ken had two children, a boy Josh's age, and a little girl
who had just turned three. Cheryl, a nurse/midwife, had married a local
pharmacist. They had three youngsters, a boy and two girls, ranging in age from
six years to six months. Lynn, the youngest of Ty's sisters, taught elementary
school, and was engaged to a fellow teacher.

Josh was ecstatic that his cousins had come to visit. Within
minutes, the house fairly reverberated with the sound of children laughing and
shrieking. Used to such commotion, Maggie calmly ushered the older ones
outdoors to play.

"What happens when it's raining?" Jess asked.

"We shove them into the cellar and lock the door,"
Karlie informed her, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Lord love a duck!" Lynn exclaimed. "Karlie, you'll
have the poor girl thinking we're the most horrible people on earth!" To
Jess, she quickly explained, "Mom and Dad have turned part of the basement
into a play area for the kids. It's all paneled and carpeted, and they've even
installed a bathroom down there, so it's not like we're tossing them into a
dungeon or anything."

"Aw, darn!" Jess rebutted with a grin. "I was
hoping to see some actual, old-fashioned torture equipment."

"Will Mom's old paddle do?" Cheryl offered. "It a
real jim-dandy, with holes drilled through for less air resistance."

"Now, Cheryl, you know I retired that thing long ago,"
Maggie objected. "I don't believe it's been put to good use since your dad
caught Ty smoking in his bedroom." She made a rueful face and added,
"Of course, my azaleas haven't bloomed nearly as well without all the
ashes he used to flick out his window, either."

Maggie was a marvelous cook and had taught her daughters the art
as well. She was genuinely surprised when Jess offered to help prepare the
meal. "My lands! Don't tell me Tyler has finally hooked up with a girl who
knows her way around a kitchen. Why, I don't believe Barb could do more than
open a can of soup and heat it in the microwave, and to hear her tell it, you'd
swear she'd slaved over a hot stove all day just doing that much."

"Oh, Jess can cook like a dream," Ty volunteered.
"Almost as good as you, Mom."

Once in the kitchen, surrounded by James women, Jess was bombarded
with questions and freely tendered information.

"Did Ty tell me you're coaching one of the football
players?"

"How serious is it between you and Ty? This is the first time
since Barb that he's brought anyone home to meet the family, you know. After
the number she did on him, I think he's been a little gun-shy about long-term
relationships with
women, especially if he suspects they're only interested in him
for
his fame or fortune."

"Barb was a real bitch, if you'll pardon my French."

"French? Cheryl, you can barely speak English."

"Are you from around Columbus, Jess?"

"Has Ty met your folks yet?"

"Wait 'til you meet Grandma Arlyss. She'll be around
tomorrow, no doubt, so be prepared to be grilled by the best. She's half deaf,
and refuses to wear her hearing aid most of the time, so you'll have to yell
some, mind you."

"Have you met Ty's ex-wife? She's awfully attractive, in a
different way from you—or she would be if she wasn't such a money-grubbing
shrew."

"Oh, I don't hold a candle to Barb when it comes to
looks," Jess claimed.

"Don't kid yourself," Lynn told her. "Ty doesn't
date homely women. Course, being a quarterback and semifamous and all, he
doesn't have to, I suppose. Not with all the pretty ones after him."

Jess shook her head, a wry smile curling her lips. "You
wouldn't say that if you'd met me a few weeks before, or even a few days ago. I
have to admit I was a mess."

"Now, I don't believe a word of it," Karlie said.
"Just look at you. Why, if Ty hadn't told us you're a reporter, which by
itself was a major surprise since members of the press aren't exactly his
favorite people, I'd swear you were a model or something."

Jess waved that notion aside. "Me? No way. I'm more
comfortable behind a camera than I'd ever be in front of one. I'd feel like a
female Frankenstein." Out of habit, she rubbed at the small lump on the
bridge of her nose.

"You're certainly tall enough, and thin enough to be a
model," Cheryl noted. "And you have those high cheekbones they've all
got. And I love the way you've done your hair."

Jess laughed. "You ought to. Your brother did it for
me."

"Say what?"

"Ty?"

Maggie got the last word. "Ty styled your hair for you?"

"Cut it, highlighted it, the whole works," Jess
confirmed with a nod. "Just this past week, in fact."