“Friendly competition,” added Jenna. “Mom and Dad saw them together at the Steak House the other night lookin’ pretty cozy.”
“Chance said he’d heard they were dating.” Will turned into the empty lot between Hunter’s and the Movie Place. There was still space for a few more vehicles.
Nate smiled at the thought of Bob Hunter, a big bear of a man, dating tiny dynamo Maisie Sparks. They’d both be about sixty by now, and each had been alone for several years. He figured they’d be good for each other.
He glanced down the street, spotting his name on the big advertising board at the used car dealership, right above the week’s hot buy—a 2002 Chevy pickup “with all the bells and whistles.” Across the street from the car lot, a couple of guys at the hardware store were hanging another banner above the “Go Wolves!” sign that draped across the high false front of the old building. This one, too, was for him.
Nate was deeply moved by all the expressions of support and caring, but he was also embarrassed by all the fuss. “I hope they’ve done this for all the returning soldiers.”
“They have,” Will assured him, nodding to his mother and father as they pulled in beside them. They planned to take Zach home later so that Jenna could stay for the bonfire. “It’s the town’s way of telling y’all how proud we are of you and how thankful we are that y’all came home safe and sound.”
Nate could agree with the safe part. But he wasn’t so sure about being sound. His body was fine, but sometimes he worried about his mind.
Give it time
, he thought.
I’ll settle down
in a few weeks. Get back to normal.
Whatever normal was.
“It’s almost time for the parade to start,” said Jenna. “Shall we set up the lawn chairs?”
Laughing, Will glanced at Nate and opened the truck door. “What she’s really asking is if we’ll take care of the lawn chairs while she fusses with little britches.”
“Chair,” called Zach.
Nate glanced over the seat back as he climbed out of the truck. The kid was already squirming, wanting out. “Hang on, buddy. Give your mama time to unfasten you.”
Jenna grinned as she got out of the truck. “Waiting isn’t in his vocabulary.”
Nate shut his door and chuckled as she leaned back in to release the straps holding Zach in the car seat. “It probably won’t be for a long time.”
She looked pretty, but to him she’d be attractive no matter what she wore. Decked out in purple jeans and a matching Western shirt with gold embroidered flowers, she once again wore the school colors. Her white tennis shoes didn’t go with the outfit, but maybe she couldn’t find any purple or gold boots. He looked closer at her dangling earrings. Gold megaphones. Where in the world had she found those?
She always had believed in dressing for the occasion. And she’d had the money to do it. Probably even more so now. Given the bucks Jimmy Don made in football, he figured she received some nice alimony payments. He was surprisingly relieved to note that she had put on a normal, everyday straw cowboy hat, instead of something that likely came from Nei-man Marcus.
He’d done his part by wearing a purple T-shirt with Callahan Crossing Wolves printed on it along with a picture of the school mascot. Thankfully, the grocery store hadn’t sold out yet when he stopped by there that morning. The old one he’d found in his dresser was faded and a size too small. It tickled him that Zach had on a new one exactly like his.
He walked around to the bed of the truck and took the two lawn chairs Will handed him. By the time Jenna and Zach joined them and her parents, they had the chairs and a small cooler lined up along the back side of the sidewalk in front of the pickups.
Though the little boy now wore a straw cowboy hat, he had on sturdy leather shoes. Given the way the kid ran around, he’d probably trip all over the place in boots—if they made them that small.
When Jenna set Zach on the ground, he raced toward Dub. “Papa!”
Beaming, the tough rancher picked up his grandson and gave him a big hug. “Hi, Zach. Are you ready for the parade?”
He nodded, brushing Dub’s chin with the brim of his hat. “My see parade.”
Nate said hello to Sue and grinned at Dub. “So how long has it been since he’s seen you?”
Dub laughed and shifted Zach so he could look around. “Since they left the house.”
Zach wiggled, and Dub set him down on the ground. “You stay right here with us, understand?”
“Yeah.” Zach wandered over to Jenna. “Nana.”
“Okay.” Jenna opened the bag beside her chair and pulled out a banana. She peeled it partway down and broke off about an inch-long piece. “Don’t cram it all in at once.”
Zach nodded, reaching for the banana, and took a bite. After he chewed and swallowed, he looked over at Nate. “Nana?”
“I’m still full from lunch, but thanks for offering.” Nate winked at Zach and received a grin in return. He noted that Will and his mother left an empty seat beside Jenna. Sue told Dub to take the seat next to her and save the one on the end of the row for Chance. That made three members of the Callahan clan who were in favor of them getting together. When Dub didn’t glare at him as he sat down, Nate relaxed.
“He’s good at sharing for his age.” Nate watched Zach shove the rest of the banana piece into his mouth, then swipe his hand on the side of his jeans. Did all kids wipe their hands that way or only little boys? Or grown men, he thought ruefully, aware that he still sometimes did the same thing.
“With food.” Jenna held out another piece of fruit to her son, but he was distracted by some older boys chasing each other around the nearby cars. “And he’s getting better with toys.” She tipped her head, studying Nate’s face. “So how did you know that? I don’t remember you having much to do with little kids.”
Nate kept his eye on Zach as he edged past him to watch the other boys. “I made friends with some Iraqi children in the neighborhoods we usually patrolled and at an orphanage. They taught me how to play soccer, and I made them laugh.”
“You told jokes in Arabic?”
“No, but they laughed at my Arabic, though I wasn’t intentionally trying to be funny. Mainly they were amused because I was so uncoordinated trying to hit the ball off my knee and head. I did fine with my feet, but it took awhile to get the rest of it down.”
“Maybe longer than you really needed?” She gave Zach the rest of the banana when he wandered back to her.
“A little bit. The kids at the orphanage had it pretty rough, so it gave me a good feeling to make them laugh. I helped where I could. Repaired a few things, scrounged some things for them. Several of us went there as often as we could.”
Chance joined them, having walked down from his office three blocks north of Main Street. He took the seat beside Dub, then leaned forward to say hello to the rest of the family and Nate. Zach ran over and gave him a slightly messy hug.
Nate pointed to a couple of the “welcome home” signs. “Looks like you started something.”
“Wasn’t me. I’m not sure who spotted you, but around mid-morning, they started going up all over town before I finished the one at my office. You’ll have to come by and see my work of art,” he added with a grin.
“It’s a surprise, but they’re nice. It feels real good to know people care.”
A couple of blocks away, the high school band struck up a John Philip Sousa march. Zach’s eyes grew wide, and he darted across the sidewalk. Nate and Jenna leaped out of their chairs to catch him, but he stopped at the curb and leaned over to look down the street. “Moo-sic.”
“You’re a good boy for stopping where you did,” said Jenna. “But you need to stay back here with us. We’ll see everything as it goes by.”
Frowning, Zack shook his head. “See parade.”
Nate knelt down beside him. “Come back to our chairs, and I’ll put you on my shoulders. Then you can see better. Okay?”
Zach thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded. He spun around and raced to the chairs. Nate followed, tossing his hat on the chair seat, and swung the little boy up on his shoulders. Holding him securely, he stepped around behind Will. “Can you see the band?”
Zach’s whole body wiggled in excitement. “Band. Moo-sic.” His heels alternately tapped against Nate’s chest, keeping time to the music.
“Zach, are you marching?” Nate grinned down at Jenna when she looked up at them. Her expression softened with tenderness, and his heart did a Texas two-step. Then sadness flickered across her face, and he frowned, mouthing, “What?” She shook her head and quickly turned back to watch the approaching parade.
Less than half a block away, the band began the school fight song—an original piece written by a student some twenty years earlier—and everybody on both sides of the street stood up and cheered. “Go Wolves,” hollered Will, waving both fists in the air. Chance clapped and yelled, “Stomp the Tigers.” Nate joined in with a loud whistle, and Zach added a “yea” of his own.
Suddenly, Nate was overwhelmed at being home—not merely on U.S. soil but being in Texas, where football was king, and in Callahan Crossing, where practically everyone turned out to support the school. He glanced around and across the street. Probably more than half of the men raising a ruckus—from twentysomethings up to a couple of old-timers leaning on canes—had played football for CC High. And if they hadn’t, they’d likely been involved in some other sport or school activity, as had the women.
This love of family and community was more than a tradition. It was the heart of the town. This same spirit was found in thousands of communities all across Texas, and in some form or another in towns and cities all across the United States. This freedom—to live, work, play, worship, and celebrate life—was what he had fought for, what he’d risked dying for. What others
had
died for.
He had longed to be home with the people he loved, in the place he cherished, living the life he dreamed about. Then why did he feel out of place? Why couldn’t he relax and truly enjoy it instead of automatically scanning the crowd, looking for danger?
Lord, help me. I don’t want to be like this.
“Horsey!”
Zach’s excited cry—and a thump on the head by two little hands—brought Nate back to the action as the sheriff’s mounted posse came into view. “Wow, that’s a bunch of horses.”
“There’s Deputy Renfro, Zach,” said Jenna. “Remember him from church?”
“Uh-huh.”
She glanced up at Nate. “Dalton makes it a point to get to know all the kids, even the little ones.”
The deputy sheriff spotted Zach and waved. When he focused on Nate, he grinned and gave him a relaxed salute. They had gone through school together. Nate wasn’t as close to him as he was to Chance and Will, but he considered him a good friend. Dalton glanced at Jenna, then back at Nate and Zach, his expression turning speculative.
Several of the other riders saw Nate and called out greetings as they rode by. Most knew that he and Jenna had been friends for a long time, so they didn’t appear to think anything about him being with her family.
Still, standing up with Zach made them easier to spot. It might not be smart to be quite so obvious. “Let’s sit down, bud. I think you can see just as good there, now.” He lifted the boy from his shoulders and carefully set him on the ground beside Will.
Will put his arms around Zach and gave him a hug as Nate slipped past and sat down. “Are you having fun?”
Zach nodded, then pointed to a float coming into view. A skirt of purple and gold crepe paper flowers hung from the bed of the large, flat-bed trailer and almost touched the ground. Fake goalposts sat at each end, with the football team in their uniforms standing in the middle, waving at the crowd. Nate recognized Pinky from the grocery store. He’d exchanged the pink wig and tie-dyed shirt for a linebacker’s jersey.
“Touchdown!” yelled Zach, throwing his hands up in the air like a referee.
Pinky waved at him and grinned at Jenna, who waved back. “Yeah, little guy! We’re gonna make lots of touchdowns tomorrow night.”
Zach did his referee imitation again, making Nate laugh. “Who taught him that?”
“Who do you think?” Will asked with a smug expression. “We’ve been watching the Dallas Cowboys on TV.”
Nate turned to Jenna. “Does he know which one is Jimmy Don?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t remember him, so we don’t mention it. When he’s older, I’ll tell him. But right now, he wouldn’t understand.”
“You mean he never sees Jimmy?” he asked quietly.
“We haven’t seen him since the day he walked out on us.” She kept her face forward, watching as the float with the cheerleaders came into view. Like the first one, it was covered in paper flowers and held a fake cage with a gigantic stuffed tiger inside. “He doesn’t want anything to do with either of us.”
Anger swept through him. “How can he turn his back on his son?”
“He’s too wrapped up in himself to care about anyone else. I hear he’s already left wife number two. Thankfully, they didn’t have any children. He provided a very generous trust fund for Zach and a huge lump sum settlement for me. We only communicate through our lawyers.” She finally looked at him. “He’s never asked about Zach. Not once.”
Nate had never liked Jimmy Don, but he hadn’t realized he was such a selfish jerk. Focusing on the pom-poms the cheerleaders were waving as they led a cheer, he fought to control his anger. Now, he understood that fleeting sadness he’d seen in her face when she watched him and Zach. Sorrow because the kid’s own father didn’t care enough about him to share in his life.
Finally, he reached over and curled his hand around hers as it rested on the chair arm. “I really wish I’d asked you out all those years ago.”
She blinked and slipped her fingers through his. “I wish you had too.” Her gaze drifted past him, settling on her son. “But I don’t completely regret marrying Jimmy Don. I wouldn’t have Zach if I hadn’t.”
They watched the little boy bounce and wiggle to the Latin music coming from the Spanish Club float, then shared a smile. “He’s a sweetheart, all right.”
Just like his mama
, thought Nate.
Two hours later, full of barbecued brisket and potato salad, Jenna helped her mom clear off a picnic table at the city park while the men rearranged the lawn chairs in the slowly moving shade of an elm tree. For the second time, Nate placed his chair with the back against the trunk of the big tree. She caught her parents exchanging one of their meaningful glances.