Under the Lights (6 page)

The boys would be doing the work, holding their helmets out to accept the donations from passing motorists, but there had to be adults on the scene, as well. Not only did they want to make sure the team didn't get too obnoxious in their pleas or harass drivers who didn't offer up money, but there was also always a chance an impatient driver would cause a scene.

They'd been right about the heavy traffic. He barely had time to make small talk with the teenagers since the constantly stopping cars kept them hopping. Time flew by as he accepted half-full helmets to empty into buckets Jen had given him and handed the empty helmets back to the boys.

Some of the kids had a real flair for charm, and Chase thought, by the time they handed the football helmets and safety vests off to the next shift, that they'd taken in at least several hundred dollars, if not more. Once they'd turned the cash—mostly in dollar bills and loose change—over to Jen, who was managing the money that day, he grabbed a hot dog and found a spot at a picnic table to wait for the yard sale to wrap up. He'd volunteered to help haul leftover donations back to the Walker farm when they felt as if they'd run
out of buyers for the weekend. He guessed it wouldn't be long, since the people of Stewart Mills had already picked it over like vultures, and there wasn't enough left on display to lure the vehicles passing through town into stopping.

When he saw the three women—Kelly, Jen and Gretchen—standing in the center of the square and looking around, he knew the end was near, so he walked back to his truck so he could park it illegally on the edge of the town square's grass. He was hot and tired and, if Officer McDonnell had a problem with his parking, she could move her own yard sale leftovers.

Other than giving him an arched eyebrow look, Kelly said nothing. Under the direction of the women, the players got everything they deemed not trash into the back of his truck, and it looked like he'd only have to make one trip, which he was grateful for. Besides being tired, he was starting to think his biggest donation to the Eagles Fest cause would be the money he was pumping into his gas tank.

“I'll ride with you and help you unload this crap,” Kelly said. “Gretchen has to do some errands before she heads home. Assuming you don't mind bringing me back into town after?”

“Of course I don't mind. I have to go by here to get back to Eagles Lane, anyway.”

“Okay. I just need to help fold up these tables and make sure they're all tagged with their owners' names, and then I'll be ready to go.”

“I'm going to get off the town's lawn before the local law enforcement notices, and get some gas. You want a soda or something while I'm at the store?”

“I helped finish off the last of the lemonade stand, so I
don't need a drink.” She laughed. “The sugar had settled to the bottom, too, so I won't need sleep for a while, either.”

Once he'd managed to get off the town square's grass and to the gas station without anything blowing or bouncing out of the back of his truck, Chase swiped his card at the pump and watched the dollar amount climb. Then he pulled the truck into a parking spot and went inside for a soda.

“Well, if it isn't Chase Sanders.”

People had been saying his name in that
hey, I know you
voice all day, but there was something different about the way the woman behind the counter said it. She hadn't been working the last time he'd been in, so it was the first time he'd seen her, and it took him a few seconds to place her.

“Janie Vestal.” They'd dated most of high school, not out of any great affection, but because football players dated cheerleaders, and they'd liked each other well enough. He suspected she was as relieved as he was when they parted ways before going to college, even if neither of them had admitted it at the time.

The years had been kind to her. With her blond hair in a soft ponytail instead of teased and sprayed to its breaking point and her face free of heavy makeup, he thought she was prettier than she'd been as a teenager. He knew women well enough not to say it aloud, because she wouldn't believe him anyway, and might even think he was saying she hadn't been pretty enough in high school.

“How have you been?” he asked her, leaning against the counter since there was nobody in line. Even if they hadn't been true high school sweethearts, she'd meant a lot to him in his younger years and he was curious.

“I've been really good, all things considered. I've been
married ten years to a guy I met at college. We moved back when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and, thank God, she beat it. And I have a seven-year-old daughter and a five-year-old son.” Her face softened when she talked about her family, and he was genuinely happy for her. “How about you?”

Well, he had a pretty decent truck in the parking lot and a storage locker in New Jersey. “I'm good. I still live in Jersey and I'm a builder.”

“The whole town appreciates you guys coming back for the Eagles Fest,” she said. “Without football, I don't think Stewart Mills would have anything to cheer about at all.”

“You know what Coach means to me.” He knew she did because she'd been the one he'd confided in. Not everything, because their relationship wasn't exactly deep, but enough.

“Everybody loves Coach.”

A customer stepped up behind him, so Chase took the opportunity to exit the conversation and hit the soda case. He grabbed a couple of bottles, figuring he'd drain the first one pretty quickly, and then stepped back into line.

“It was good to see you,” Janie said as she handed him his change.

“You, too. I'm glad you're happy.”

She smiled and nodded. “I am. I hope you are, too.”

He smiled back, but it faded as soon as he was through the swinging glass door to the parking lot. Was he happy? He didn't consider himself
unhappy
, exactly, but happy seemed like a little bit of a stretch.

When he pulled up to the town square, Kelly jogged over to the curb, and he had to admit watching her run made him a little happier. He even managed to tear his gaze from her
legs long enough to appreciate the entire package. Officer McDonnell was in really nice shape.

Chase took a swig of soda, hoping to cool himself off a bit as she went around to the passenger door. He needed to stop thinking of her as Officer McDonnell, which brought to mind that fruity cop smell of hers, and think of her as Coach's daughter. That was better than a cold shower or a cool drink any day of the week.

K
elly took a deep breath before opening the passenger door of the truck. She'd already proven she could handle a little close proximity to Chase without making a fool of herself, but she needed to stop tempting herself like this. She should have begged off and let somebody else help him lug stuff back to the Walker farm.

She opened the door and then laughed. “Did somebody dump their garbage in your truck as a prank?”

He looked around, not seeming to grasp what she was talking about. “Where?”

“Seriously? Chase, it looks like a Dumpster exploded in here.”

He frowned and then brushed a straw wrapper from the passenger seat onto the floor. “Sorry. I should probably clean it out.”

“Or you could just set it on fire and start over.”

He rolled his eyes and gestured for her to get in. “It's a few papers. I suppose you're one of those people who alphabetizes their spices.”

“Of course not. They're shelved near my stove in order of how frequently I use them.”

“But they have an order.”

She climbed up into the seat and rested her feet on a pile of bank slips, torn notebook pages and who knew what else. “You're a very messy person.”

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

She kicked at the pile of crap under her feet. “Did you lose your dog under here?”

“What dog?” He glanced over his shoulder and then pulled the truck away from the curb. “I don't have a dog.”

“The first time I called you, you said you were talking to your dog.”

“Oh.” He gave her a look of chagrin before turning back to the road. “I was having a bad day and was mostly talking to myself, but I didn't want you to think I was crazy, so I lied. Rina wouldn't let me have a dog.”

“Rina?”

“My ex. She really hated dog hair, for some reason.”

His ex, but ex what? Fiancée? Wife? “Your ex . . . ?”

“Girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. When you called me, I'd already been on the phone with her new boyfriend and also with some people who were really unhappy with my business partner, so I wasn't at my best.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a bad day.”

As he drove, he told her about how things had gone to crap for him, from business being slow to his girlfriend cheating to his business partner absconding with their money. While his tone didn't really change, offering up his story in a nonchalant, no-big-deal kind of way, she didn't miss the way his fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

She guessed this all had something to do with the
you have no idea
when she'd said he was a messy person. His entire life was a mess.

“How about you?” he asked. “I've heard there's an ex in your life, too.”

“Ex-husband,” she said, wishing she could pull off his casual tone. “We got married, discovered we had irreconcilable differences and then went our separate ways.”

“That's it?”

No, that was far from it, but she didn't care to dissect her failed marriage for Chase. “He was too charming for his own good, or for
my
own good. Kind of like you, actually.”

He nudged her with his elbow so she'd look at him. “You think I'm charming?”

“It wasn't really a compliment.”

“I take what I can get.”

Somehow she doubted Chase was lacking in self-confidence and needed an ego boost from her. “Now that she's your ex, you could get a dog.”

“I should probably get a place to live first since I've got nothing at all to offer a dog at the moment. But I've been meaning to ask you, when are the other guys coming in?”

Not the smoothest subject change she'd ever heard. “Alex Murphy and Sam Leavitt are coming on Friday, the day before the street fair. They're both flying into Boston, so
Alex is going to rent a car and then wait for Sam's plane and they'll drive up together. The others can't come for as long, but they'll all be here for the alumni game and parade. We're still working out some of the details.”

“Is Sam staying with his mom?”

“No.” They wouldn't even have considered asking Sheila Leavitt about the possibility, even if Sam hadn't told them he preferred to board with a team family, like the others. There was too much history there, and none of it was pretty. “He's staying with Cody. You know, the kid who plays tight end?”

“Yes, I know Cody. I hope Sam doesn't mind being called
dude
.”

“I wish Cody was the only offender, there. I hate that. But anyway, Mimi Dodge is his grandmother and he's been living with her for several years, so Sam will be at the Dodge house.”

“What happened to the kid's parents? Bill Dodge was older than me, but I kind of remember him.”

Kelly hesitated. “I can't discuss Cody's parents. Alex is staying with JJ Barton's family. John Briscoe's bringing his wife and kids, so they'll stay with his parents. Killing two birds with one stone, he said, since they haven't been back to visit for a while. Deck and Phil Parson still live in town, obviously. Phil's out of town, but he'll be back soon.”

“So nobody's staying with the running back? Hunter, I think his name is.”

“Hunter Cass. And no, nobody's staying with him.” There were several families connected to the team who couldn't take the strain of a guest, either financially or emotionally. “We didn't have to ask too many families, since those are
the only commitments we could get from the guys we could find. Just the six of you.”

“I think you did pretty good, actually.”

She smiled at the praise in his tone. “Thanks. I just hope it's enough.”

“Even if it's not, I know how much it means to a guy that age to have somebody believe in you and fight for you.” He gave a little shrug, and then chuckled. “Which you know, since you didn't hesitate to use it against me.”

She felt a pang of guilt. “That was harsh, actually, and I'm sorry I had to do it. But he's my dad. And he knows he's more to the team than just their coach.”

“That he is.”

Chase turned onto the bumpy dirt road that led back to the big, white farmhouse that had seen better days. Gretchen was doing her best, but without being able to pay for labor, she and her grandmother were on their own. He drove past the house and hooked a left onto an even worse track of dirt that led to the barn. It took them only a few minutes to unload the bed of his truck, and then he drove her back into town, stopping at the curb in front of her apartment.

“I guess I'll run into you soon,” he said.

“Very soon. I'm going to run home and take a shower, and then I have to get to my parents' house for dinner.” When he gave her a blank look, she cocked her head. “It's Father's Day, remember?”

“Oh. Sure.” He clearly hadn't remembered. “I'll probably go to O'Rourke's or something. Maybe grab a pizza. But I'll get out of the way.”

“Coach specifically mentioned looking forward to both of us being there for his Father's Day dinner.”

He shrugged, but she could see the tension around his eyes. “Okay. I'd rather eat your mom's cooking, anyway.”

Kelly didn't bother asking him if he'd called his dad or not. She suspected Father's Day wasn't a big deal for the Sanders family, not only because Chase had clearly forgotten the holiday, but because she knew Chase and his dad had always had a rocky relationship.

None of her business, she told herself as she got out of his truck and gave him a wave. Nothing about Chase's personal life was her business, and what she did know wasn't good. His life was a mess and, if there was one thing Kelly didn't want in her life, it was another mess.

—

C
hase put what must have been the tenth card he'd read back on the greeting card rack in the drugstore. Coach wasn't his dad, grandfather or uncle, so card shopping wasn't going too well. There didn't seem to be a
Dear Coach, thank you for making me the man I am today
sentiment in the bunch.

Of course, Chase would rather be the man he was six months ago, with a successful business and a wonderful girlfriend he thought loved him. Coach would have been damn proud of that man. Now? Chase wasn't sure what was next for him but, whatever it was, he'd be going into it with his debts paid and his head held high. He guessed Coach would be pretty proud of that guy, too.

He finally settled on a blank card with a funny picture of a pug in a bow tie on the front. He'd write his own message, which would probably be something along the lines of
Happy Father's Day, Coach. From Chase.

Since he was there, he grabbed a few magazines to keep him occupied in the guest room after Coach and Mrs. McDonnell retired for the evening, along with some candy to stash away. Then he grabbed a tube of toothpaste and a box of condoms. Not that he thought he'd need them in the near future, but a man should be prepared in case opportunity knocked.

When he pulled into Coach's driveway, he pulled the card out of the bag and shoved the rest under the seat to bring in later. After digging around his center console for a few minutes, he found a pen and—ignoring the pang caused by seeing
S & P Builders
on the side of it—wrote a quick note inside the card and sealed it.

In the side mirror, he caught sight of Kelly walking up the driveway and got out of his truck, thankful she hadn't caught him holding the almost transparent bag with the brightly colored condom box inside.

“Did your car break down?” he asked, realizing she hadn't driven into the driveway and there were no vehicles parked along Eagles Lane.

“I walk whenever I can,” she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way toward the door. “Stewart Mills doesn't have a gym, and I don't have the space or self-discipline for home workout equipment, so walking is my way of staying in shape.”

“It's definitely working for you,” he said without thinking.

She tilted her head to look sideways at him, her expression unreadable. “Thank you.”

He couldn't think of anything else to say, but it didn't matter because Coach opened his front door at that moment
and stepped outside. “Thank God you two are here. Helen made a roast in the slow cooker and, after smelling it for hours, I'm absolutely starving.”

He wasn't kidding. As soon as he stepped into the foyer, Chase was hit by the aroma of seasoned beef, and his stomach growled in response. When he winced and put his hand over his abdomen, Kelly laughed.

“Mom's cooking has that effect on people, remember?”

He definitely remembered. Most of the time he spent at the McDonnell table, he'd been struggling through homework, but sometimes Mrs. McDonnell would invite him to stay for supper, and those had been the best meals. Not that his mom couldn't cook—baked goods being a notable exception—but there was something about the meals Coach's wife put on the table that made him think of family and home and television shows like
The Waltons
and
The Cosby Show
.

As they dug into the roast, buttery corn and some creamy mashed potatoes with gravy that didn't come from a jar, Chase tried to keep his eyes on his food for the most part. It wasn't easy, since he was sitting across from Kelly. The V-neck shirt she was wearing accented the fact that her breasts weren't large but were probably the perfect size to cup in his hands, and he'd really like to test that theory.

Then he was afraid decidedly
not
looking at her would be as weird and noticeable as looking at her too much, so he stopped staring at his plate and tried to divide his attention among the three McDonnells as naturally as possible.

“Chase, your mom called today,” Mrs. McDonnell said, which definitely got
all
of his attention. “She wanted to see how you were doing, but she said you weren't answering your cell phone.”

“The battery died and I couldn't find my car charger in my truck. For all I know it was sold in the yard sale.”

“Or the trash on your floor ate it,” Kelly muttered, and she smiled when he frowned at her.

“She just wanted to see how you liked being back, and she asked how the fund-raising was going. I told her I'd have you give her a call when you came in.”

His mom cared a lot more about reminding him it was Father's Day than she did checking in on Eagles Fest, but he didn't say so. Denial was definitely his mother's state of mind when it came to the relationship between her husband and their son. “I'll call her in a little while. Thanks.”

When they were done eating, Chase helped clear the table, but he wasn't surprised when Mrs. McDonnell shooed him and Coach out of the kitchen. “It's Father's Day. You two go relive the glory days for a little while we clean up and then we'll have pie.”

“Hey! He's
my
father,” Kelly said, her hands on her hips. “How come I don't get to go relive the glory days while Chase washes the dishes?”

He would have teased her about being a girl, but she'd probably had some kind of hand-to-hand combat training in the police academy, and getting his ass kicked in Coach's kitchen would be the highlight of the entire Eagles Fest. For everybody else, of course. Not so much for him.

“Because you get every Father's Day with him, and Chase has been gone a long time.” Mrs. McDonnell handed her daughter a sponge. “And he's company.”

“Did I tell you Chase volunteered to do a double shift in the dunking booth at the street fair?” Kelly's voice was all sweetness and light as she lied to her mother, but the look
she gave him when Mrs. McDonnell's back was turned almost made him laugh out loud. And there was going to be a dunking booth? She hadn't told him that part on the phone.

“If you let me off with one dunking booth shift, I'll wash the dessert dishes,” he offered, hoping for peach cobbler.