Page 32 of Under the Lights
“Dude, she’s Coach’s daughter,” Sam said.
Kelly was getting tired of hearing that. Yes, she was proud to be the man’s daughter, but she didn’t want to be hoisted up onto whatever pedestal they’d put him on. “Right now, the only part of my life relevant to you three is my job. Keep it up and you’ll sober up behind bars.”
When they reached Alex’s rental car, she waited while he pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it over to Sam. “I’ll see you gentlemen at the street fair tomorrow. Bright and early.”
She took a perverse satisfaction in their groans as she walked away.
09
Chase was a little slow getting out of bed the next morning, and only the mouthwatering scent of frying bacon wafting up to his room made him do it.
Too much beer. A great idea. Breaking into the school. Asking Kelly to go make out with him on the old covered bridge. Tripping up the stairs while trying to sneak into the McDonnell house. Not one of his finer nights.
He made quick work of showering and dressing for the day, choosing cargo shorts and the faded Eagles T-shirt he’d brought with him from New Jersey. He supposed that was a bright spot in his life, being able to fit in a shirt he’d worn in high school.
Coach was just sitting down with his breakfast plate when Chase walked into the kitchen. “Surprised to see you up this early, son.”
Ouch. “I apologize again for the noise. And your daughter said she wanted to see the three of us bright and early for the street fair.”
“When did you see Kelly?” Mrs. McDonnell asked from the stove, where she was frying eggs. He noticed she didn’t fry them in the leftover bacon grease anymore, maybe out of deference to Coach’s health, but they still looked delicious.
“Uh...” He wasn’t awake enough yet to lie. “Last night, when she responded to the call we’d broken into the high school.”
Coach almost choked on his coffee. “You do any damage?”
“No, sir. We just wanted to see the trophy again.”
He felt like a teenager again, squirming under Coach’s steady gaze, but then the man laughed and Chase relaxed. “Seeing you boys together again does an old man’s heart good, but I thought you’d all have learned to stay out of trouble by now.”
“There was beer.”
“How many?”
“Three or four?” Chase replied, but Coach raised that eyebrow at him. “Pitchers.”
“Sit down and eat,” Mrs. McDonnell said, setting a plate and a cup of coffee in front of his chair. “You have a long day ahead of you, although it doesn’t start until ten, no matter what Kelly said.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He dug in, scooping up egg yolk with the thick-sliced bread she baked at home. When she set a tall glass of orange juice and a couple of painkillers next to his coffee, he smiled his thanks.
To make up for his less-than-graceful entrance the night before, Chase cleared the table and washed the dishes when they were finished with breakfast, waving away Mrs. McDonnell’s objections. When he was done, he stuck an Eagles ball cap on his head and walked toward the downtown area, since if Kelly could walk, so could he. And he wouldn’t have to worry about parking his truck or it getting blocked in.
The sun was warm without being hot and the humidity was low, so it would be a perfect day for the street fair. He waved to the kids manning the tollbooth, which they were doing again for the weekend, and they all waved back. A lot of people greeted him by name and, for most of them, he could do the same.
There were all sorts of activities going on, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by the way the town was pulling together for the football team. There was a garden club booth, with women selling flowers, along with a craft booth. A yard sale booth and a huge book sale. Everything was donated, with all the proceeds going to the Eagles.
The karaoke booth drew him in, as it had many others. It was fifty cents per song to perform, and there was a tip jar that would also go into the football fund at the end of the day. The citizens of Stewart Mills really loved to sing, he thought, though they did so with varying degrees of talent.
The realization that the fate of the Stewart Mills Eagles football team might come down to how much pocket change people could spare was a humbling one. Everybody was working their asses off, scraping for quarters and dollar bills, and they were smiling while they did it.
He saw Alex from a distance, taking pictures as always. The camera looked a lot more sophisticated than the junk one he’d had when they were kids, but Alex had always had an eye for photography. Chase thought it was pretty cool he’d managed to turn his childhood passion into a career.
Hunter and Cody walked by with an older couple, all of them laughing, and he waved. The man looked enough like Hunter for Chase to assume it was the boy’s dad. After seeing the kid at the first Eagles Fest meeting he’d attended and then spending time with him off and on, he’d surmised Hunter was probably the boy Kelly had talked to on the covered bridge the other night, and it was good to see him having fun with his family. No matter what happened with the team, Stewart Mills needed a celebration.
After watching a dozen or so people mangle popular songs, Chase went to the lemonade stand, where they were charging a dollar per cup. After the supply costs were recouped, the profit would go in the kitty, too.
He bought a cup and, after wincing at the amount of sugar, walked across the town square to check on the dunk tank. It didn’t appear to have sprung any leaks overnight, nor had it been messed with at all. He’d assumed it would be okay, since the kids most likely to mess with it were the kids who most needed it.
“You going to take a turn in that?”
