Page 10 of Under the Lights
“When Kelly asked me to play, I almost laughed her out of my office. I haven’t played in years.”
“None of us have. At least you just have to stand there and hit people. I’m the goddamn running back. Last time I ran anywhere, my truck popped out of gear and started rolling. Took off after it and got maybe seven or eight yards before I said ‘fuck it’ and let it hit a tree.”
Deck shook his head. “When I laughed at her, Kelly reminded me Coach didn’t laugh when he sat down with Ma and helped her fill out all of those government forms so my little brothers and sisters could get free hot lunches at school.”
“She plays hardball, that’s for damn sure.”
“Knows which buttons to push.” Deck shrugged. “I’d have given in anyway. I live here and it’s Coach, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Plus I’ve got boys who are eleven and nine, and they’ve been counting the years until they can be Eagles like their old man. What else are they going to do when they’re teenagers? Cruise the back roads, drinking?”
Chase figured pointing out they’d had their share of doing just that despite being Eagles was a bit of nostalgia he’d keep to himself. “I guess Officer McDonnell will keep them in line, huh? Never would have guessed Kelly would grow up to be a cop.”
“I don’t think anybody did. She went off to college and got married, I guess. Somewhere in there she became a cop, then she got divorced and moved back. Got a job with our police department.”
Interesting. And maybe a little disappointing. If her marriage and divorce had happened away from Stewart Mills, there was a good chance only her parents and best girlfriends knew the whole story, and he couldn’t very well ask them. Not that it was important, really. Just mild curiosity about Coach’s daughter.
“So what’s going on in your life?” Deck asked him. “Things must be good if you can take off a couple of weeks to come back.”
Or so bad it didn’t matter what he did. “Making do, I guess. How ’bout you?”
“Things are tight. People are trying to squeak a few more miles out of their tires and stretching between oil changes. Turning the radio up and ignoring the knocks and bangs.”
“You get them in the long run, though, when they push it too far and need a wrecker.”
“True enough. And I do the roadside assistance calls for the tourists passing through, which is what’s kept us in the black for the last couple of years. Barely, but we’ve got a roof over our heads and food on the table, so I’m doing better than some.”
“You really think this fund-raiser will work? Sounds like even if people wanted to give money, there’s not much to give.”
“If anybody can save the Eagles, it’s Kelly and Jen and Gretchen. If those three women got it in their heads to take over the world, we’d all be in trouble. Plus, they’ve got some of the stuff planned out so the tourists will stop and chip in. The big yard sale and the tollbooths and stuff.”
“As long as there’s no kissing booth,” Chase said, but even as the words came out of his mouth, he wondered how much he’d cough up if Officer McDonnell were selling off kisses.
“There was talk of one,” Deck said. “Guess the high school kids were all for it, but Edna Beecher said it was prostitution, and if she saw anybody offering intimate favors in exchange for money, as she put it, she’d call the FBI.”
“Edna Beecher? Shit, she was old as dirt as far back as I can remember. Threatened to call the FBI on my old man, too, because he carried a .38 in the car.”
“If she called them half as often as she threatened to, they’d have taken her out by now.”
Both men laughed, and Chase shook his head as he thought of all the times Edna Beecher—often called the Wicked Witch of Stewart Mills when people were absolutely sure she wasn’t nearby—had given him what for growing up. The thing about Edna, though, was that while she wasn’t shy about giving her opinion or laying into anybody she thought was doing wrong, she was generally a decent woman who cared about the town. She was simply more cranky than most.
“You marry a local?” Chase asked, not wanting to think about Edna Beecher anymore.
“Cheryl Hayes.”
Hearing the name resurrected a memory of a quiet brunette who usually had her face buried in a book. “Seriously?”
Deck laughed. “You’ve gotta watch the quiet ones. They sneak up on you while you’re not even looking. How about you? Married?”
“Nope. Came close, but we went our separate ways last month.”
“Sorry to hear it. It’s nice to have a woman to hold your hand during the hard times.”
Since Chase had a woman who’d kicked him in the emotional balls when times got hard, he wondered if he should have spent more time in the library and less time at bars back when he’d been looking. “And you’ve got just the two boys?”
“Yup. They’re usually hanging around with me during the summer, learning to turn wrenches, but Cheryl’s got them helping her make meatballs for the spaghetti dinner benefit. Good thing we’ve got a freezer in the basement, because she’s made enough freaking meatballs to keep the town alive if the Apocalypse comes.”
