Deep Down True (20 page)

“Oh, COME ON!” Jack suddenly yelled toward the field. “You call that a KICKOFF?”

 

 

At halftime Jack huffed an aggravated sigh. He’d talked almost incessantly, coaching the game from his seat high above the sidelines, punctuated by shouts of, “OH, yeah! THAT’S what I’m talking’bout!” or “It’s called BLOCKING, for cryin’ out loud! Quit the TAP DANCING!”

“When you think about the scholarships these jerks are getting,” he now muttered, arms reaching up, stretching the tension out of his spine, “it makes you want to beat ’em with a stick.”

“Come on, Jack,” she chided playfully. “They’re just kids. They’re trying.”

“You’re right.” He smiled indulgently. “But there’s a difference between
trying
and
winning.
And if you don’t have the mental toughness to kick some butt and win, you shouldn’t be playing the game, is all I’m saying.” He stood up. “Hungry? I’ll run and get us some snacks. I gotta hit the head anyway.” He climbed past her into the aisle and was gone before she realized he hadn’t asked what she wanted. But there was something nice about his choosing things for her. Kenneth always insisted
she
get the food, so he wouldn’t have to listen to any remarks if he didn’t get just the right thing, he said.
Stop thinking about Kenneth,
she admonished herself.

“Hey, Dana.” She turned to see Billy and Sean sitting two rows up. He motioned for her to come sit with them. “My curiosity’s getting the best of me.” He grinned as she squeezed in next to him. “What’ve you been doing the past twenty years?” She told him about Morgan and Grady and the temporary addition of Alder. “You always had a soft spot for the lost and lonely,” he said. “If I were sixteen and mixed up, I’d find my way to your house, too.” His smile faded a little. “And Jack’s your husband?”

“Oh, he’s . . . well, he’s my date, I guess.”

“You guess? You’re not sure?” He laughed. “Because I’m pretty sure
he’s
sure.”

“Uhh!”
she groaned. “I’m not used to this! It’s my first date since the divorce, and I barely remember how to do it.”

“Oh, you’re a smart girl,” he teased. “You’ll get the hang of it. I felt the same after my divorce. But I finally met the right one and was ready to . . . you know . . . be the guy.”

“The guy?”

“I was just hanging out for years . . . Well,
you
know that. But I finally got my act together and was ready to step up for once.” He put an arm around Sean, who was happily licking at his stick of cotton candy. “I should’ve tried it sooner.”

She grinned at him. “You’re going to hate me for saying this . . . but I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, you’re Dana—you’re unhatable.” He gazed at her a moment. “So you like this guy?”

“Yeah . . .” she said. “He’s Grady’s football coach. You should see him with the boys—he’s wonderful.”

“Great.” Billy nodded.
What are you doing with this loser?
is how it sounded in her head. She stiffened and looked out over the crowd. “He’s nice,” she said. “It feels good to be wanted.”

He patted her knee, drawing her attention to him again. “Isn’t
that
the truth.” It was an apology, she knew. “You better get back,” he told her. “I think Jack figured out we were more than just study partners.”

“It’s so good to see you.” She sighed. “And meet your little pal here. Bye, Sean.”

“Bye,” said Sean, revealing the wad of melting pink fluff in his mouth.

Billy watched her rise. “Hang in there,” he said. “Stay true.”

True,
she ruminated, waiting for Jack to return.
To what, exactly?

 

 

The UConn Huskies did not win. “Spanked,” Jack muttered derisively as they drove home.

“Where do the boys play tomorrow?” Dana asked.

“They don’t play again till next Saturday. Coach’ll have them busting their butts this week. Notre Dame is strong on defense, but their QB’s recovering from a groin pull, so they’ll—”

“No,
our
boys,” said Dana. “Where are
you
coaching tomorrow?”

Jack blinked, reeling himself back to his own life. “Oh, yeah. Vernon.” They talked about the game and a bet he had with a co-worker that he could sell more Ford F-150s by Christmas. Soon they were pulling in to her driveway. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned toward her, his hand resting on the back of her seat. “This was great,” he said, grinning. “But I knew it would be.”

“It was really fun,” she agreed. The way his gaze kept flicking from her eyes to her lips made her heart pound as if it were trying to find an emergency exit.

“I feel really comfortable with you, you know?” he said. “Some women make you want to puff up the truth so you’ll sound better. But you’re not like that.” A finger leaned out from the hand on her seat back and traced the curve of her cheek. “God, you’re pretty.” His face came closer, the blue of his eyes a darker, oceanic color in the dimness of the truck’s cab.

With all his attention focused on her, Dana had a rare moment of feeling wonderfully lucky.
This is a good man,
she thought
.
Perhaps not as urbane as Kenneth, nor as insightful as Billy. But unlike them, he hadn’t allowed other women or drugs to lure him away. Jack wanted
her.

Now lightly kissing the corners of her mouth, Jack murmured, “You taste good.” Gently, then more insistently, he probed deeper, a slow, sensual escalation.

I’m being kissed!
she thought.
When was the last time . . . ? New Year’s Eve . . . Polly and Victor’s party . . . Kenneth patting my back as he gave me his last kiss . . .
This was so much better. Jack was a good kisser, but, more important, there was so much wanting behind it. She put her hand out to Jack’s shoulder, and he nibbled her ear. “Let’s go inside,” he breathed.

Dana froze.

“Whoa, hey,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s just—”

“Seriously, no biggie.”

“Alder’s home, and I wouldn’t feel right . . .” Alder was sleeping over at Jet’s. The house was empty. “Also, I’m not really—”

“Course not. My bad.” He arranged himself back into his seat and slapped his hands on the steering wheel. “So when can I see you again?” He grinned and wagged a finger at her. “And don’t say two weeks from now, because there is no
way
I can wait that long.”

Wanted, wanted, wanted . . .
the thought reverberated in her chest. “No,” she said. “Neither can I.”

H
ER ALARM WAS SET FOR SIX-FIFTEEN ON MONday morning, but Dana was wide awake by a quarter to five.
Seamless,
she kept thinking.
The kids should barely be aware that I’m working now.
By seven she was in the kitchen making breakfast, wearing an apron printed with the word MANGIA! to shield her work clothes. Grady straggled in, his pajama top hanging off one shoulder.

“Pancakes or waffles?” she asked.

“What day is it?” His half-lidded eyes squinted in her direction.

“Monday.”

“Is there school?”

“Of course there is. Monday’s a school day—you know that, silly.”

“We only get pancakes on weekends.”

“Well, I got up early, and I just felt like making them. So which is it—pancakes or waffles?”

“Toast,” he said, slumping onto a kitchen chair and scratching his neck. “We had pancakes at Dad and Tina’s yesterday. He puts all those chocolate chips in them.”

Dana stared at the bowl of pancake batter. “Sounds like you had a fun weekend.” She poured Grady a glass of orange juice.

“It was awesome.” He slurped at the juice. A drip ran down his chin, and he wiped it on the shoulder of his pajama top. “We went to Dad’s health club, just him and me, and we had races in the pool where you could only use one arm and stuff. I beat him fourteen times. No,
fifteen.
”

“Where was Morgan?” Dana asked.
He better not have left her at his apartment to wander around on the Internet,
she thought, loading the toaster and slamming down the knob.

“Her and Tina went shopping in the West End.”

He can’t cover the bills, but they can go shopping in the West End?
Dana fumed.
Boy, is he in for a phone call.

“But it was so dumb,” said Grady. “They didn’t even buy anything! They just
looked
at stuff. What’s the point of
that
?” He slumped further in his seat. “I don’t want to go to school. I hate it.”

“No you don’t, honey,” she said. “School’s fun. Especially recess, right?”

“I hate it. Especially recess.”

 

 

Dana was waiting outside the heavy glass exterior door of Cotters Rock Dental Center when Tony arrived with the keys, blue medical scrubs peeking through his unzipped leather bomber jacket. “You’re early.” He smiled warmly as he unlocked the door. “No surprise.”

They completed her employment forms and went over how to find files, submit claims, and the like. “I had Marie give me the low-down on this crazy phone system,” Tony said, leaning over her as she sat in the swivel chair behind the desk. That strange scent he had, the commingling of mint and musky aftershave, drifted by her. “You practically need a pilot’s license to operate it,” he joked. “She comes in at eight-thirty if we can’t make it behave.”

The little bell that hung from the handle of the office door jingled, and a man in a business suit came in. He removed his Blue-tooth earpiece, pocketing it as he approached the desk.

“Can I help you?” said Dana. Tony patted her on the shoulder and went back to his office.

At a quarter to twelve, Marie the hygienist came into the receptionist area with a take-out menu from Nelly’s Deli. “Do you mind ordering?” she asked Dana. “Tony gets a veggie sub, no onions, and an iced tea. Just tell him when the delivery guy shows.”

“Sure. And what are you having?”

“Nothing. I take my run during the lunch hour.” Marie turned to leave, her posture light-pole straight. “Switch over to the answering service right at noon. Otherwise you’ll never escape.”

Dana was eating her yogurt when Tony’s lunch arrived. He came out and handed the delivery man some bills. Turning to Dana, he said, “Hey, you started without me.”

“Oh, sorry—I figured it might be a working lunch.”

“Nah,” he said. “Come and join me.” She followed him to the kitchenette at the back of the office, and they sat at the little wooden café table. Searching for something to say, she asked about the filing system, though she’d already figured it out. Soon she’d exhausted all work-related subject matter, and there was a silence that lingered for several moments. Tony dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “So,” he said. “How was your weekend?”

“Uh, great. How was yours?”

“Very nice, I gotta say.” He stretched back in his chair.

“Anything in particular?”

“Well, since you asked . . .” He gave a little lopsided grin. “My daughter Lizzie was home from college, and I was a little nervous because my . . . friend was visiting. Martine lives in New York, and the two of them had never crossed paths before.”

“How’d it go?”

“Surprisingly well.” He nodded. “I don’t scare too easily, but there’s nothing to put fear in my heart like the girls giving my dates the once-over. It should be the opposite, right? I’m their father—they should be worried about
my
good opinion, I keep telling them.” His face warmed with barely concealed pride. “But they never buy it. Their mother raised them well.”

Dana smiled. “I’m sure you had a little something to do with it.”

“A smidge, I guess. But you know mothers and daughters—it’s a fight to the end, practically. All the while you love each other within an inch of your lives. It’s a wonder any of you survive.”

He’s right,
she thought.
I’m still not sure if I’ll make it.

“Their mother sounds pretty impressive.” Dana said, wondering where the woman was now. Were they divorced? Would Kenneth speak so highly of
her
to a stranger?

“She was durable.” Though he was still smiling, his voice had taken on a faint pinch of bitterness. “I used to say it was her best weapon—she could outlast them. Turns out she wasn’t as durable as I thought, though.”

His face barely changed, but the air in the room seemed suddenly charged with his sadness, and it stung Dana as surely as if she’d touched an exposed wire. A sound slipped out when she dared to exhale, a barely perceptible,
“Oh.”

“Bone cancer,” he said. “Five years ago.”

“Tony, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” He nodded. “I still miss her.”

“She sounds very special.”

“Top shelf,” he murmured. After a moment he asked, “So what about you? What did you do this weekend?”

Drawn in by the confidence he’d shared, Dana replied without thinking, “Well, I had a date.”