Kenny wasn’t sure he understood this exchange—wasn’t sure he wanted to understand it. He frowned as Blaine said, “Stay in touch,” and left without bothering to pay for his coffee.

  Russ said nothing, and suddenly the clack of dishes, the tingle of silverware, the voice of the waitresses calling to the cooks and the hum of conversation at the crowded booths surrounding them seemed unnaturally loud to Kenny. At last, with a sigh, his father stood. “Well, you heard him.”

  “I heard him say we were going to lose,” Kenny said glumly.

  Russ lowered his voice. “I heard him say you’d better make sure of it.”

  Kenny backed up as though he’d just encountered poison. “You can’t really expect me to do that?”

  His father glanced furtively around, then shuttled him outside. Brent was still lingering in the booth, tearing up strips of napkin—but at this point, Kenny didn’t much care about the lack of parental intervention.

  “It’s better to lose a few games in the beginning than to give up the entire season, and maybe next year as well,” Russ said, when the door closed behind them.

  Kenny squinted against the sudden brightness of the sun. “But I can’t do less than my best!”

  “I’m sure you won’t be alone. Blaine has two nephews and a second cousin on the team.”

  Kenny knew that. The twins had necks almost as thick as Kenny’s waist and were part of the offensive line. Their cousin, with a much lighter build, was the kicker. “You’re saying Blaine and some of the guys are going to sabotage our games?”

  “What do you think Blaine was talking about?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t do that,” Kenny said, shaking his head emphatically. “I’d let everyone down. I’d—”

  “Do you want to play in the NFL someday?” his father snapped.

  Kenny was so shocked at what his father had suggested, that he paid no mind to Tiffany Wheeler, who honked as she drove by. “You know I do.”

  “Then you have to think past three or four games. Gabe won’t want to see you succeed. He’s never liked me, and you know what your mother did. Blaine’s our only hope. He’ll probably be taking over soon—next year if not this year. You scratch his back, he’ll scratch yours.”

  The bell jingled over the door as Brent finally joined them, his shirt smeared with ketchup.

  “But we haven’t given Coach Holbrook a chance,” Kenny replied.

  Russ’s movements were jerky as he opened the door of the Jeep for Brent. “Coach Hill didn’t give me much of a chance when he handed my position to Gabe.”

  Kenny remained rooted to the cracking blacktop. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  His father climbed behind the wheel. “Gabe’s already had his share of lucky breaks.”

  “And unlucky ones,” Brent piped up, out of nowhere.

  Sometimes Brent surprised Kenny. He was getting so big, catching on to more and more. But it was their father who surprised Kenny the most. “That’s life,” Russ said and waved for Kenny to get in.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EARLY MONDAY morning, Hannah pulled herself away from her work to drive Kenny to the high school for football practice.

  “Coach Holbrook will bring you home,” she told him.

  “Coach Holbrook?” he echoed in surprise. “Why?”

  “Because he’s coming by to pick up one of the dinners I’m trading him for a chair.”

  Brent, her younger son, stretched his seatbelt so he could lean closer to her. “Isn’t that the guy in the wheelchair?”

  Hannah hated to hear Gabe referred to by his handicap. “Yes. But he’s also the guy who won Most Valuable Player in the NFL two years in a row. Maybe we could use that to set him apart instead, huh?”

  “How does he drive?” he asked as though she hadn’t said anything.

  “With his hands.” She looked over at Kenny, who was sitting in the passenger seat. His reticence seemed a little unnatural. “You don’t mind riding with him, do you?”

  “No,” he grumbled.

  “Kenny?”

  “That’s fine.”

  When they arrived at the high school, Hannah saw Gabe’s truck parked in the lot and was tempted to linger. She wanted to see how Gabe managed his wheelchair on the field. Did he allow anyone to help him? How did he move on the thick turf?

  She wondered but didn’t find out because Coach Blaine arrived a moment later, and she didn’t want him or anyone else to see her hanging around. Someone might interpret her interest as doubt in Gabe’s ability. Judging by the cars filling the lot, there were more than enough parents in the stands already. The last thing he needed was a bunch of gawkers.

  As she drove toward the exit, she tried to concentrate on other things. It was good to have the boys back. She always breathed easier once they were home. Fortunately, this weekend seemed to have gone smoother than the last time Kenny and Brent were with their father. The news about Brent and the porn movie had upset her so much she’d decided to take her ex back to court. But Kenny insisted that Brent had only seen the cover of the video before Russ whisked it away from both of them.

  Hannah suspected that wasn’t the case, but without Kenny’s support, she knew her petition would end in joint custody, like all the others before it. For the moment, she seemed to have no choice but to let the incident go.

  Pulling into the lot of the grocery store, Hannah parked, found her list and did her shopping. Then she hurried home.

  “Where do you want me to put this?” Brent asked, helping her unload the van.

  She glanced at his round face, which was turning red beneath his thick strawberry-blond hair because he’d insisted on carrying the watermelon.

  “Over there.” She motioned to the sink, figuring she’d make room for it in the refrigerator after she unloaded the bags of groceries waiting on her counter. Considering the busy day she had ahead of her, she should’ve done her shopping over the weekend. But she’d had trouble deciding on the menu. Gabe was wealthy and famous enough that he’d probably eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world. How would her cooking ever compare? What had she been thinking, offering meals to a man like that?

  She’d been thinking of the cleverly-crafted chair on his porch, she reminded herself. But she knew her suggestion had more to do with her conscience than anything else. She was hoping that making his life a little easier would take some of the sting out her regret.

  But cooking for him wasn’t as easy as it had sounded when she’d volunteered to do it. She’d already spent two days poring through every cookbook she could find. Nothing seemed good enough. Finally, she’d bought the ingredients to make a rice and lemon chicken dinner for Monday, her own special recipe of beef stroganoff for Tuesday, shrimp shishkabobs on Wednesday, and green chili enchiladas on Thursday. Friday was still a question mark. When they’d made the arrangements, Gabe had insisted anything would do, but she’d heard he’d become a bit of a health nut. She wanted to see which type of meal went over best—fancy and exotic, low-fat, low-carb or the more standard Dundee fare of meat and potatoes—before planning any more menus.

  “Jeez, do you have company coming or what?”

  Hannah turned from the cupboard where she was putting away the cold cereal to see Patti, her ex-sister-in-law, come in through the garage. Although on the surface, Hannah’s friendship with members of Russ’s family remained intact, they weren’t nearly as close as they used to be. The court battles between her and Russ had forced the Prices to choose sides. Hannah had known in advance that her divorce would ripple through every relationship that really mattered to her. That was why she’d hung on for so long.

  “No company,” she responded. “Just stocking up for the coming week.”

  “I’m glad I have girls.” She tossed her keys and her purse on the only bare spot of counter space available and peeked into a sack. “These boys must be eating you out of house and home.”

  Patti’s statement could easily have led to a conversation about Russ, and the fact that he was only paying his child support in fits and starts. Hannah craved a friend with whom she could discuss such things. But Patti was Russ’s sister. Since the divorce, they’d had an unspoken agreement not to discuss him at any length. The Prices didn’t like to face unpleasant realities and pretty much bought into Russ’s excuses and ignored his shortcomings. They’d done the same thing when she was married to him, but they’d also tried to support her as much as their loyalty would allow.

  “Hi, Aunt Patti!” Brent slipped into her arms for a big hug.

  “How’s my favorite nephew?” she asked.

  He angled his head to look up at her. “I knew you liked me better than Kenny.”

  “You’re my favorite nephew under ten,” she clarified.

  He grimaced. “I’m your only nephew under ten.”

  “You’re still my favorite,” she said with a chuckle. “You gettin’ tired of summer, kid?”

  “No way. I like being out of school.” He gave her a gap-toothed smile. “Will you take me swimming today? Since I’m your favorite?”

  She tweaked his nose, which was covered with a light dusting of golden freckles that would probably disappear the way Kenny’s had. “I guess I could drive you and the girls over to the high school for an hour or so.”

  As a stay-at-home mom, Patti had much more opportunity to be spontaneous than Hannah did. At times Hannah envied the support Patti received from her husband and Violet, her mother, but not enough to wish her any less happiness.

  “Get your swimsuit,” Patti told him. “You can go home with me in a few minutes.”

  Brent hesitated. “Do you think we could go after lunch?”

  “Why? Is your schedule so busy that you can’t squeeze me in?”

  “My schedule?” he repeated, obviously surprised by the adult-like question.

  She chuckled. “What are you doing this morning?”

  “I’m gonna help my mom make dinner for Coach Holbrook.”

  Patti’s head jerked up. “Coach Holbrook?”

  Hannah put the bottle of wine she’d bought for one of Gabe’s dinners in her rack. “Haven’t you heard? Gabe’s taking over for Coach Hill.”

  Patti blinked. “Gabe, the football star turned recluse?”

  “He’s not really a recluse.”

  “He barely leaves his cabin.”

  “He’s coming to town every day for practice.”

  “No kidding.” Her brow creased thoughtfully. “Can he get around well enough in that wheelchair?”

  “I guess so.”

  Patti pulled a crusty loaf of sourdough bread and a tub of cheese spread out of a grocery sack and stared down at them. “Wine. Sourdough bread. Fancy cheese. Looks like you’ve got something romantic going on.”

  “No, nothing like that.” Hannah dug through another sack to avoid Patti’s probing gaze.

  “How’d this come about?” Patti asked.

  “He makes furniture.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “There’s a chair I want,” Hannah said. “So I offered to trade him some meals for it.”

  “Really.” Patti said the word with a heavy emphasis on the first syllable.

  Hannah buried her head in yet another sack. “It’ll make a good prop for my pictures.”

  “And how’d you see this chair in the first place?”

  Remembering her trip to Gabe’s cabin and her initial glimpse of him rolling toward her, freshly showered, the white of his shirt stark against the golden-bronze of his skin, his eyes the aquamarine of a Caribbean sea, Hannah felt a nervous excitement and whirled to put some frozen corn in the freezer. “I drove out to his cabin to tell him Coach Blaine isn’t happy about being nudged out of the coaching position he’s coveted for so many years.”

  Patti slowly folded an empty sack. “You drove all the way out there just for that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because Gabe had to have expected as much. Blaine’s been waiting for a chance to be head coach since we were in the sixth grade. The Spartans are everything to him.”

  “I know, but Gabe has a lot on his mind. I wasn’t sure he considered Blaine when he took the job. This is the first time since the accident that he’s shown an interest in anything—at least that I know of. I didn’t want him to be disillusioned on his first day.”

  Patti set a few more grocery items on the counter. “Okay…So, how’d he treat you?”

  “Mom, where does this go?” Brent held a sack of rice in the crook of his arms, like a baby.

  “In the pantry, bottom shelf.” She put the salad makings into the produce drawer and returned to her conversation with Patti. “He was nice. Gabe’s always nice,” she said. But she knew that wasn’t strictly true, at least not anymore. Gabe’s parents had been in the public eye forever—his father was currently serving in the state senate and his mother led the charge for every charitable cause in Dundee. They’d raised their two children, especially their son, to be unfailingly polite and that hadn’t changed with his fame. It had taken the accident to make him standoffish and morose.

  “What about Kenny?” Patti shoved the sack she’d already folded under the sink with the others. “Is he happy about this development?”

  Hannah blocked out the distress she’d seen in her son’s face when he first gave her the news. “He’ll live with it.”

  “Do you think Gabe will be as supportive of Kenny as Coach Hill was?”

  Hannah couldn’t help wondering if Patti blamed her entirely for what had happened to Gabe, or whether she held her brother at least partially responsible. Hannah wanted to believe that Patti, of all people, would consider the mitigating circumstances. “I don’t know,” she said. “But we’d be facing the same question no matter who took over for Coach Hill, right?”

  Brent tapped her on the arm. “Mom, can I have some yogurt?”

  Hannah nodded as Patti pulled tomatoes from one of the remaining sacks and headed around the kitchen’s small island to the fridge. “Not necessarily. Blaine, or even Owens, would be much more familiar with Kenny’s abilities.”

  “If they can spot Kenny’s talent, Gabe will be able to see it, too,” Hannah said, filling the basket on her kitchen table with apples.

  Patti turned to face her, one hand still on the refrigerator door. “I think maybe you’re being just a little too trusting, Hannah. I’m sorry for Gabe, but I can’t say I’m happy about having him coach Kenny. It’s only natural that he’d resent you, and—”

  “He wouldn’t hold what I did against Kenny.”

  “Don’t let all that mysterious charisma of his fool you. He’s not a saint.”

  “I know, but—”

  “He already got in the way of Russ and a career in the NFL. I don’t want him to ruin Kenny’s future as well.”

  Gabe had gotten in Russ’s way? Hannah almost laughed out loud as she imagined her ex-husband’s thickening middle and the way he used to lie on the couch for hours in front of the television when he should’ve been out looking for a job. A man had to have drive and ambition to get ahead in professional sports. At the very least, he needed to stay in shape. It wasn’t a year after she’d married Russ that she realized he had very little motivation and would happily stay at home indefinitely while she worked to pay the rent.

  His talk about football was just that—talk. “Russ didn’t really try for a football career,” she pointed out.

  “Because Coach Hill decided he preferred Gabe and gave him all the playing time. That demoralized Russ before he ever had a chance.”

  Hannah stopped unpacking. “Coach Hill was a good coach, Patti. I don’t think he based his decisions on personal bias.”

  “At that age, Gabe was no better than Russ.”

  “Coach Hill must’ve thought so.”

  “I don’t care. It was opportunity that built Gabe into what he became,” she argued. “If Russ had had the same chance—”

  Irritation welled up so quickly, Hannah spoke before she could check herself. “You know what? Whether you want to admit it or not, Russ is responsible for his own failures.”

  Patti opened her mouth as though she had a hot and ready response, then clamped it firmly closed again, and Hannah cursed herself for landing them in another of those awkward impasses that never used to exist. Not many years ago, she and Patti could talk about almost anything—but that was before she’d crossed the line and filed for divorce.

  “Gabe’s already had his chance in the sun,” Patti finally said, her words clipped. “It’s Kenny’s turn, and I don’t want anyone screwing that up for him.”

  “Neither do I,” Hannah agreed. “But let’s make sure there’s going to be a problem before we jump to any conclusions.”

  “Fine.” She shrugged, but the stiff set of her shoulders told Hannah she wasn’t letting go that easily.

  “So what’s up? Where’re the girls?” Hannah asked, hoping a change of subject might smooth things over.

  Her movements quick, Patti put the avocados on the windowsill above Hannah’s kitchen sink. “At Mom’s. I’m on my way there. I just came by to tell you that Donny and Jamie are getting a divorce.”

  Donny was Russ’s younger brother by two years. Although he and Jamie had been married for at least twelve years and had a ten-year-old daughter, Kara, this news came as no surprise to Hannah. When Hannah was still married to Russ, Jamie used to complain about her own husband all the time.

  Hannah put a six-pack of soda in the fridge. “Is Kara going to stay with her mother?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “What about Donny?”

  “He’ll be getting his own place.”

  Too bad he wouldn’t be rooming with Russ, Hannah thought. Donny had his share of problems, but he owned a construction company and he worked hard. Maybe, under Donny’s influence, Russ would finally seek a steady paycheck….

  “What’s going to happen to Aunt Jamie?” There was a tinge of panic in Brent’s voice at the prospect of yet another big change in his life.

  Patti must’ve heard it, too, because she seemed to soften. “She’ll be around, kiddo. Don’t worry.” She scooped up her keys and purse. “I’d better go.”