Page 49 of Everything's Better With You
By four o’clock, the cheerleaders were toast and they’d made over $3,000 in cash and another $20,000 online. Joe was pleased, it was a good start, but they had a long way to go to break through the level he knew Leslie would reach with his contacts.
By the time Joe got back to his apartment, he found a cooler outside his door with a massive salad, homemade bread, and granola. On top was a note.
You worked so hard today, I wanted to feed you myself, but I have to prepare for tomorrow night’s game. I wish I could take you with me to Dallas. We’d have a hotel suite after the game…
Anyway, my mom made this for you and would like you to come to dinner one night soon. It would mean a lot to her, but I understand if that’s not comfortable for you and she will too.
Your kids did a great job on my truck. Nice work today.
Les
Food from Agnes? Running away for a work function overnight? Jesus, this was really happening, wasn’t it? Secret or not, he and Leslie were dating. And Joe didn’t feel the urge to run.
Wait.
He did a mental inventory.
Nope, he wasn’t anxious about it at all. Could it be that he was ready to stop running? Could he really settle down with a wonderful man like Leslie?
Joe swayed on his feet. He couldn’t tell if it was the hard work and sun and lack of food or if it was the thought of settling down that had him shaky. He went over to pick up the cooler and when he stood up his vision went fuzzy and he got a little lightheaded. He was able to get inside his apartment and set things down. He poured himself a huge glass of water and ate his delicious salad standing up at the counter. His mouth had found true bliss. Agnes Payton was a genius and it wasobvious the food had been prepared with love. He just knew it, from everything Leslie had told him about his mother, Agnes was the kind of mom Joe had always dreamed of. He desperately wanted to meet her, and was terrified at the same time. What if she didn’t approve? What if he was his usual asshole self and she didn’t think he was good enough for her son?
Joe took a quick shower and he fell into bed still wet and wrapped in a towel. He needed a good night’s sleep if he was going to torture the footballers tomorrow.
That thought made him smile and he dreamed sinister dreams…
Joe and Terrell drove together to the high school and on the way, Joe ran through his plans. Terrell remained quiet.
“So what do you think?” he finally asked Terrell. “You’re awfully quiet over there.”
Terrell crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. He got that scowl from his dad. It used to intimidate Joe a bit back in their Greenvale days until he realized it was genetic, not an indicator of his mood.
“I think…this is going to suck.”
Joe pulled the Bronco into a parking spot and turned off the car. He turned to face Terrell.
“Tell me.”
Terrell sighed. “I thought it would be different, you know, coming here and no one knows I played football, there would be no expectations. Already some of the guys in the dorm are hassling me for not coming out for the team, saying I’m not man enough to play for Coach Payton. I know it’s bullshit—”
“Itisbullshit. Just wait until we’re done with them today. They’ll be singing an entirely different tune.” Joe held out a hand and Terrell hesitated a minute before he slapped and shook it.
“All right then,” he said.
By the time the players began filing into the high school gym, Joe and Terrell were properly warmed up and ready to do battle. He’d texted Leslie to remind his players to bring water and dress in clothes they could move in, preferably not super baggy. It was important that Joe beable to see their form and whether or not they were performing the techniques correctly to avoid injury.
The kids came in mostly quiet and looking as if they were headed in to see the dentist or get vaccines. None of them looked comfortable. Only a few gave off attitude and had that cocky vibe about them. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad?
One of them bumped shoulders with Terrell and made an exaggerated apology. That kid was going to earn Joe’s wrath if he put one more toe out of line.
Terrell stood against the wall with that Simmons Scowl and Joe nodded at him.
Randy and Sandy came in behind them and one of the boys asked, “Coach? You providing ballet slippers?”
His friend snorted. “Or maybe a tutu?”
Right.You asked for it.
“Good afternoon. I’m Coach Judd and this is my assistant, Terrell. Enough with the niceties. Spread out in straight lines with your arms out to your sides. Be sure there’s at least a foot between your fingertips.”
