Last Chance Hero (17 page)

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Authors: Cathleen Armstrong

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027020, #Self-realization—Fiction

BOOK: Last Chance Hero
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Dropping back in his chair, Andy leaned back and rubbed his eyes. What did Jess think she was doing? Forget Gabe for the moment, although Andy didn't think for one minute that he wouldn't wind up regretting his decision. When someone just disappeared from the team in the middle of the season because he changed his mind, team morale suffered big-time. Each man had to know he could count on everyone else and that everyone else counted on him. That's what being a team meant. You didn't just quit.

He yanked his desk phone over to him and started jabbing in her number, but before the connection was made, he hung up. If he remembered right, she'd still be making rounds in San Ramon. Besides, he needed to cool off before he said anything. If he talked to her now, he was bound to say something that would probably end all hope for any kind of a relationship, present or future. And even though at the moment, he was so mad he could spit nails, he didn't think he wanted to risk messing things up for good.

Jess smiled in satisfaction when she checked her schedule of appointments when she finally got back to Last Chance after doing rounds at San Ramon General with Dr. Benavides. Whatever his
intentions were in making her do rounds with him, patients were not flocking from San Ramon to Last Chance to see her, but people from Last Chance were making appointments, a few more every week. Today an older man she hadn't met yet was coming in with something that sounded very much like gout; Kaitlyn Reed, who owned the salon, was coming in for a checkup; and Sue Anderson, of all people, was coming for a consultation—although she refused to give even a hint as to what she wanted to consult about. Then, after office hours, Marta Quintana was stopping by. Hopefully, the trend would continue, and she'd wind up running from patient to patient like she was beginning to do in San Ramon, but for now this was nice—busy enough, but not so busy that she couldn't spend as much time as she wanted with each patient.

The first patient did, indeed, suffer from gout, and Jess gave him an information sheet about what he should and shouldn't be eating and drinking. He handed it right back to her.

“But this is all the stuff I like to eat. Can't you just give me a pill or something?”

“I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Mr. Crawford. This is a diet-related condition, and changing your diet is what's going to help.” She held out the sheet, and he snatched it out of her hands and glared at it.

“Well, If I'da known this was all you were going to give me, I'da gone up to Dr. Benavides in San Ramon. I thought you were new and modern and would have all kinds of miracle drugs.”

“Sorry, and just so you know, Dr. Benavides would have said the same thing I did.” Jess smiled at him. “But if you follow those instructions, you ought to be feeling better in a few days, and if you're not, just come on back.”

He was still grumbling when Jess left his room and walked across the hall to find Kaitlyn Reed perched on the examination table in
a paper gown. She had only been around Kaitlyn a few times but had really liked her. In fact, the more time she spent with that convoluted Cooley clan, headed by the doughty Elizabeth Cooley, the more she liked all of them. Of course, Kaitlyn wasn't a Cooley, but her brother, Chris, was married to a Cooley, and that more or less put her in the family. All quite complicated, unless you were from Last Chance. Then you were born knowing how it all fit together.

“Hi, Kaitlyn.” Jess checked the file she had pulled out of the rack on the door. “Just a checkup today?”

“Yes, time for my annual.”

“Good for you.” Jess checked the form Kaitlyn had filled out in the waiting room. “No problems? No concerns?”

“Well, there is something I need to talk to you about.” Kaitlyn, who always possessed a quiet confidence that Jess admired, today seemed almost embarrassed. Jess waited. “Um, from my teens until I came to Last Chance last year, my life, um, the way I lived it, wasn't really anything to be proud of.”

She looked at Jess as if she hoped to find understanding there, and Jess nodded to encourage her to continue. She did.

“Well, I'm a new person now, and I'll probably be married within the year to a really wonderful man, and I just want to make sure that everything is the way it should be, you know?”

“I think I do. So in addition to the regular tests, you want a thorough blood work-up?”

“Yeah. I guess that's what I'm asking.”

“Sure, I can order that for you, and there are some other tests I can do too. Do you have any symptoms you're worried about?”

“No, nothing at all. But I want to know for sure.”

“That's a smart thing to do, Kaitlyn.” Jess began her examination. “So, you're getting married? Tell me all about your groom. Is he from Last Chance?”

“Yes, he was born here. His brother is Ray Braden, Lainie's husband, and his cousin is married to my brother.”

“Oh my, another Cooley. I was just thinking what a terrific family they are. So when are you getting married?”

“Probably sometime in the spring. He's just finishing at the Law Enforcement Academy and got his first choice of assignments. He'll be a state policeman right here in this part of the state. So we'll wait until he gets all settled in his new job. I don't want a big wedding.”

Jess reached for Kaitlyn's hand and helped her sit up. “It seems to me that from what I've seen, even an intimate family wedding is going to be a big wedding. Where do you draw the line?”

“That's my problem. Unless you run off, any wedding around here is a big wedding.” Kaitlyn sighed. “But Steven should get back soon, and we can start figuring all this out. It's too hard to do on the phone.”

“I can see how it would be.” Jess smiled and looked at her notes again. “Well, we won't know for sure until all the tests get back, but everything looks just fine. I'll write out an order for a blood work-up, and you can take it to the lab at San Ramon General. I'll call you either way, just to set your mind at ease.”

“Thanks so much, Doctor.” Kaitlyn took her hand and kissed her cheek. “I was so worried to have to talk about all this, and you made it so easy. I'm really glad you're going to be my doctor.”

“Me too, and please, my friends call me Jess.” Jess had never had a patient kiss her in gratitude before, and to tell the truth, it was kind of nice.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Kaitlyn stopped Jess as she picked up Kaitlyn's file and headed for the door. “I guess everyone probably assumes Steven and I will be making some kind of announcement, but we haven't yet, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. Okay?”

“Couldn't if I wanted to.” Jess gave her a wink. “It's all confidential in here.”

Leaving Kaitlyn to get dressed, Jess went to find the last scheduled patient of the day, Sue Anderson. All Sue would tell Eva when she made the appointment was that she wanted a private consultation with Dr. MacLeod. This, coupled with the fact that both Mrs. Anderson and Dr. Benavides had alluded to a lifelong professional relationship, made Jess more than a little curious.

Sue was fully dressed and waiting in the other examination room when Jess walked in.

“Hello, Mrs. Anderson.” Jess sat on the stool as Mrs. Anderson was seated on the only chair in the room. “This is all rather mysterious. How can we help you?”

“I don't mean to be mysterious.” Sue Anderson sat with ankles together, clutching her purse on her lap. “But I do need you to assure me that this conversation will be entirely confidential.”

“Of course, that goes without saying.”

“Even from Dr. Benavides.”

“If you wish.” Jess made a note. “Now, what's up?”

Mrs. Anderson took a deep breath. “It's Emma. You know what a sweet child she is.”

“I have met Emma.” Jess smiled.

“And so well behaved. People have remarked on what a good little girl she is since she was two. Since she was
two
! I hear people talk about the terrible twos and I have no idea what they're talking about.”

“Yes, she is remarkably well behaved. I noticed that right off when I met her.” Jess felt a surprising pang of compassion for Mrs. Anderson. Clinging to the illusion of perfection can be so exhausting. “But I think you're worried about her for some reason. Am I right?”

After a moment, Sue nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, a little. She doesn't have many friends, for one thing. She is so much more mature than other children her age, and I think they're intimidated by that. Children can be so cruel, and I think it upsets her more than she tells me. She's started pulling at her eyebrows, and it's really beginning to show. She's got these bald spots. So far I've been able to keep them filled in with eyebrow pencil, but I'm afraid her father will notice the next time he's home. I don't know which he'll think is worse, putting eyebrow pencil on an eight-year-old, or letting Emma go around with bald spots in her eyebrows.”

“Is Emma's dad away often?”

“Yes, he's home mostly on weekends. The house we live in has been in his family for generations, and he wants us to live in it. It
is
a very nice house, and it's on some land, but since he's a lawyer and his office is in Tucson, he's away a lot. So you can imagine that when he is home, he likes everything to be peaceful and happy.”

“Yes, I can imagine that.”

“Of course, Emma just adores her daddy. He calls her his perfect little princess.”

Jess nodded. “So, is there anything besides the eyebrow plucking that concerns you about Emma?”

Mrs. Anderson twisted her hands and frowned. Jess waited. There was something else.

Finally, she swallowed, and tears filled her eyes. “She beats her dolls! She takes a ruler and just beats them. She yells at them and slams them into a corner, and then she yanks them out and beats them again. It just terrifies me.”

Well, yeah, I can see how you'd
find that upsetting.
Jess made an effort to keep her expression and her voice calm and neutral. “Mrs. Anderson, I need to ask you this. Do either you or Mr. Anderson ever spank Emma?”

“No! She's never had a hand raised to her in her life! I don't know where this comes from.”

“Okay.” If Jess hadn't examined Emma herself and found no evidence of physical abuse, she might have been a little more skeptical. “But it's pretty clear to me that Emma has a lot of anger going on. I'm sure it's clear to you too. But knowing it's there and knowing how to help her with it are two different things. I think it would benefit Emma to talk to a child psychologist, and I strongly recommend you make an appointment sooner rather than later. I could do some research and get some recommendations for you, if you like.”

“No. Absolutely not. Emma does not need a psychologist. Besides, there's no way her father wouldn't find out if she was going to a psychologist.”

“And why would that be a problem?”

Sue Anderson gathered her purse and stood up. “You know, I came here really hoping you could help me. It looks like I was wrong. Thank you for your time.”

As she reached for the door, Jess put a hand on her arm. “Mrs. Anderson, I really hope you reconsider. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'm going to research those psychologists anyway. I'll put my recommendations in an envelope and keep it in my desk drawer. If you change your mind, just stop by the office and tell Eva that I have an envelope for you. That's all you need to do.”

Mrs. Anderson just looked at Jess's hand on her arm, and when Jess removed it, she opened the door and swept down the hall to the waiting room. Jess could hear her talking to Eva.

“I'll be paying cash for this appointment. How much do I owe?”

16

J
ess was on her computer researching child psychologists when Eva stuck her head in the door. “Marta Quintana is here. She says she has an appointment, but there's nothing on the books.”

After making one last note, Jess closed her computer and looked up. “Ask her to come on back, would you please?”

Eva hesitated. “If you're just going to be talking, would it be okay if I close up and go on home? I'd like to be back in San Ramon before the rush hour traffic starts.”

“Go.” Jess waved her away. “I don't need you anymore today.”
Rush hour in San Ramon? Who knew
?

When the door opened again and Eva ushered Marta Quintana in, Jess got up, met her halfway across the room, and shook her hand. “Marta! I'm so glad you could come. Please have a seat.”

Marta lowered herself to the edge of the chair. Worry lines deepened on her forehead. “Is everything all right? Is there something wrong with Gabe?”

“Gabe is fine. I told him this wasn't about him. Didn't he tell you?”

“He told me, but I started thinking that if something really was wrong, of course you wouldn't tell him before you told me.”

Jess had gone back to her desk, but she reached a hand out toward Marta. “Oh, Marta, I'm so sorry you've been worried, and
just so you know? If ever I have something to tell you about any of your kids, I'll call you straightaway. I won't send a secondhand message home. Okay?”

“Okay.” Marta nodded, but those worry lines were still there.

“So, the reason I asked you to come in.” Jess took a deep breath. She hadn't ever done this before, and it was turning out to be a little harder than she thought. “How happy are you at San Ramon General?”

“Happy?” Poor Marta still did not know what was going on, and Jess looked for the quickest way possible to put her out of her misery.

“Okay, here's the deal. I'm looking for a full-time office manager and medical assistant, and I'd like you to think about the job. It's going to be a two-person office here for the foreseeable future, so I need someone who'll be more of a teammate than an employee. And I think we'd be a good team. At least I'd like to talk about it.”

“What about Eva? Is she leaving?”

Jess laughed. “As far as Eva is concerned, she is already gone. It was always understood that she was on loan from the San Ramon office, and she is counting the days until she's back there for good. I guess she's just a bright lights and big city kind of girl.”

Marta did not smile at Jess's little joke. She just raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Well, she's young. It's to be expected.”

Jess didn't say anything.

After a few seconds of thoughtful silence, Marta spoke again. “You know, this might be an answer to prayer. I've been wondering what I was going to do when Gabe left for college. I wouldn't have been able to do what I've had to do without him. I couldn't have worked the night shift, that's for sure. And he was always around to help with the kids. It would be good to work here in Last Chance and be home nights.”

“Well then, could you get me a résumé? I think that would be the next step. We can talk again after that.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Marta got to her feet, and Jess was pleased to see that the worry lines, while still there, did not seem as deep. “Oh, and I want to thank you for taking so much time with Gabe. We've always talked about him going to college, but now he really sees a way to get there, and it's given him such purpose. And for the first time, I know how it's going to happen too. I can't tell you what a heavy load that has been. Gabe is so smart. It would have killed me if he didn't get to college. He'll get over having to quit football. He knows it's for the best.”

“Gabe's a pretty amazing young man, but then, you knew that long before I met him.” Jess walked Marta to the front door and let her out.

On the way back to her office, a little niggling finger of accusation poked her in a tender spot under her ribs. Encouraging Gabe when he decided to quit the team wasn't a cruel thing to do. In fact, it was the best decision possible, under the circumstances. She knew it, his mom knew it, and even Gabe knew it. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she had taken something important from someone who valued it and tossed it away.

The lights were on at Jess's house when Andy drove down her street on his way home. Earlier he had thought he might be ready to stop by and talk to her, but nope, he was still too mad. He drove on by. Maybe he needed to rethink this whole thing with Jess, anyway. Yes, she was beautiful, and smart, and funny, and he loved being with her, but she didn't like football. At all. Not even after watching the game last Sunday and listening while he explained the basic rudiments of the game did she show any great
interest. And why did he think he had to force it on her, anyway? What fun would it be to be with someone who he had taught to tolerate that which he loved?

You know what,
Ryan? I think you're the problem, not Jess. And
as soon as you can figure out a gentlemanly way
to do it, you need to let her off the
hook for homecoming.

With a shrug of resignation, Andy turned off Jess's street onto the long dirt road that led to his house. Well, everything didn't always work out the way you wanted it to; he should have learned that by now.

Still lost in thought, Andy stopped his truck in its usual spot under the cottonwood, got out, and headed for the front porch. He had one foot on the bottom step before he noticed the light in the back of the house. He hadn't left a light on; he was almost sure of it. Stepping back, Andy looked around his yard and for the first time spotted the old pickup with the Kansas plates nearly hidden in the brush, with easy access to the back door, and an old chest and a rocker that had been his grandmother's already in the bed.

Walking back to his truck, Andy reached behind the seat for his tire iron. As silently as possible, he mounted the creaky old steps and let himself into the house. Someone was already there. He could hear them moving around in the back bedroom. Thankful he was wearing tennis shoes instead of boots and that he had already oiled the hinges, Andy pushed the door open. Someone was there, all right, kneeling in front of an open dresser drawer and pawing through the contents. Raising the tire iron, he slowly moved forward and stepped on a creaky board.

Instantly, the man's head whipped around, and he raised his arm in front of his face to protect himself. “Shoot fire, Andy, what are you doing with that thing? Put it down before you hurt somebody.”

Andy stared hard at the wizened old man kneeling before him. “Dad?”

“Who'd you think it was? Santy Claus?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? This is my house. That's what I'm doing here.”

“No, Dad, it's my house.” Andy lowered the tire iron, but he didn't put it down. “You just walked off and left it. I bought it for taxes years ago.”

“Well, I can't say you took very good care of it. This place is a mess.”

“I'll ask you again, Dad. What are you doing here? And what are you looking for in that chest? Nothing there belongs to you.”

The old man grabbed the top of the dresser and hauled himself to his feet. “Well, I picked up this old magazine in the barbershop, and it had an article in it about you. Yes it did. Said the NFL didn't want you anymore and you had scooted back to this little wide spot to coach a bunch of snot-nosed kids. They get that right?”

“You still haven't told me why you're here.” Andy shifted the tire iron to his other hand. The fingers of the one he had been holding it with were starting to cramp, he was gripping it so tightly.

“Oh, lighten up, Andy. I was just funnin' with you a little. But you brought it on yourself, you know, acting so high and mighty before. And what I was doing in that chest is none of your business.”

Andy was tired of asking. He just stood and looked at his dad, until finally the old man muttered something under his breath that Andy couldn't quite hear and looked away. “To tell the truth, I need a place to stay for a while. I've had a run of bad luck and need a place to get back on my feet. Shoot, you're the one who threw me out of my own house, and then stole it out from under me. I think you owe me.”

“Owe you. Right.” Andy clenched and unclenched his fist. “You still drinking?”

“Naw. Haven't had a drop in years. Swear to it.”

Andy dropped his head. When he looked up again, his dad was watching him, naked pleading in his eyes.

“Come on in the kitchen, Dad. We'll get something to eat and talk.”

Immediately his dad perked up and followed him to the kitchen. “You don't have much in there, and that's a fact. Hope you don't mind if I ate that leftover chicken. I was pretty hungry when I got here.”

Andy opened the refrigerator without saying anything, and his dad perched on a stool, the very stool where Jess had sat while he fixed her dinner on a much happier occasion. When was that? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“How's your mother?” The question seemed to come from nowhere.

“She's fine.” Andy was not inclined to discuss his mother with the man he had to protect her from when he was just in high school.

“Where's she at?”

“She's happy.”

His dad laughed. “Not going to tell me, huh? Well, you don't have to. That meddling sister of hers was always trying to get her to leave me and come live with her. I bet your mom high-tailed it up there the minute she thought I was gone. Betcha if I went on up to Oklahoma and knocked on that front door right now, she'd be the one to open it. That'd be a kick, wouldn't it?”

Andy turned and leveled his gaze on his dad. “I wouldn't advise that.”

“So what are you going to do? Call the law on me again?”

Leaning against the counter, Andy folded his arms and looked
around the room. When he spoke, his every word was cold and measured. “I've been working pretty hard on the house, Dad. What do you think of my work?”

His dad shrugged. “I told you I thought the place was a mess. What'd you do?”

“See those rough patches on the wall there, and there, and there? That's where I patched holes you punched in the wall. They're a little rough yet, but I'm not finished. And see that doorjamb over there? The unpainted one? Well, I've replaced that one because it was out of line after you kicked the door in. I fixed the one in Mom's bedroom too. So, yeah, when I say leave Mom alone, you can bet I mean it.”

“Well, here's a surprise for you, buddy. I'm not any more interested in seeing that old bat than she is in seeing me. So don't worry about it.”

The muscles in Andy's neck and shoulders ached, they were so tight, and he rolled his shoulders to loosen them. “Look, Dad, we've got to call a truce. You've said you need a place to get on your feet, and I've said you can stay awhile, so we've got to find a way to do that without killing each other. There's plenty of room. It's a big house, but it's my house, and that includes the furniture you've got out in your truck. We need to get that back in here.”

“Shoot, boy, I'm all for a truce. I'm the easiest man in the world to get along with now, you just try me.”

“Glad to hear it. But everything rests on you not drinking. The minute you start drinking again, you're gone. And if that means calling the law again, don't think I won't do it.”

“I told you, son. I'm not drinking.”

“Then we're good.” He turned back to the stove. “I'm just going to fix sausage and scrambled eggs. And I think I've got a roll of those canned biscuits. That sound good to you?”

“Sounds more'n good. Especially if you've got some green chile to go with it.”

“I've got green chile.”

“Oh, man. Home again and eating real green chile. I have died and gone to heaven.”

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