Last Chance Hero (8 page)

Jess watched her stop by the window to the kitchen before disappearing in the back. “What was that all about?” She kept her voice to a bewildered whisper. “Is it really poor form to want dinner on the night there's a game?”

Lainie laughed. “No, not at all. The season opener is a pretty big deal, which is why Juanita was in such a big hurry. Her husband is president of the Boosters, and they all sit in a special section on the fifty-yard line, and of course, he's in the Parade of Pumas as well. But most Fridays are pretty sane, especially when the team is away. Except for homecoming—then it's
really
crazy.”

“Bye now.” Juanita came back with her sweater on and her
purse slung over her shoulder. She waved as she headed out the door. “Now don't get so busy talking that you get behind. Ray has to make that parade, and you need to cheer him on.”

“We'll be there.” Lainie looked toward the kitchen as the ding of a bell signaled Jess's salad was ready. “Be right back.”

When she returned, she set the salad in front of Jess along with a small bowl of some kind of stew and a thick white tortilla wrapped in a napkin.

“What's this?”

“This is from Carlos. Juanita's voice has a way of carrying, and he heard your conversation earlier. He said to tell you he'd be happy to make you a salad every time you come in here, but he wants you to just try his green chile stew. It's famous.”

Picking up her spoon, Jess regarded the stew with a little frown. “Is it hot?”

“You mean chile hot? Yeah, it's got a little heat to it. That's what the tortilla's for. Spread butter on it, and then if your stew is hot, take a bite of tortilla. It's a perfect combination.”

Jess did as she was told, and her eyes closed as the bite of tender pork and green chile warmed her mouth. “Oh, my. I may never order salad again. That is amazing.”

“It's a favorite around here. Enjoy.” Lainie smiled. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Just one thing. What is a Parade of Pumas? It sounds like something the animal rights people would be all over.”

Lainie laughed. “No, it's nothing quite so dramatic. It's just a Last Chance tradition that right before the team takes the field at the season opener, every former football player who can still fit in his letterman's jacket—and a good many who shouldn't even try—takes a walk around the track. Everybody cheers and they all wave and feel like heroes again. They go in order of the year
they played, with the old guys out in front and last year's graduates bringing up the rear. It's sort of a rite of passage for them.”

“Ray takes part too? It just doesn't sound like him.”

“Oh, yeah. Once a Puma, always a Puma. In fact, a bunch of guys he played with are coming back especially for this game, since they were all on Andy's team.”

“Wow.” Jess pushed her salad aside so she could better concentrate on her green chile stew. “And I thought they were serious about football at Cal.”

Lainie threw up a hand. “Sister, you have no idea. Now, unless I can get you anything else, I'd probably better get to work. Ray will be here before I know it.”

“Go.” Jess waved her away. “I'd hate to have you late to the game on my account.”

As Lainie grabbed a tray and went from table to table picking up salt and pepper shakers, Jess turned her attention back to her meal. She had come to the Dip 'n' Dine nearly every day since arriving in Last Chance, and the spicy aroma of green chile stew had greeted her every time she opened the door. What in the world had she been thinking to simply order salad without ever investigating that tantalizing fragrance? She tore off a piece of thick, warm, buttered tortilla and used it to wipe the last drops from her empty bowl. Next time, it would be the enchiladas—with an egg.

Ray was just getting out of his truck when Jess pushed through the door and out into the parking lot. His black letterman's jacket with the gold leather sleeves still fit him well.

“Look at you!” Jess raised her eyebrows in appreciation. “That parade must be something to see. I'm beginning to be sorry I'm not going tonight.”

“There's still plenty of time. You can change your mind, you know.” Ray grinned as he headed for the front door.

“I'm not that sorry.” With a wave, Jess slid behind the wheel of her car. “Have fun tonight.”

A long line of pickups and a few cars, all decorated in the green and white of San Ramon High and loudly blaring their horns, entered Last Chance from the north and began their noisy procession down Main Street to the high school just south of town. Jess waited until the last car was a block or two down the road before pulling out onto the road behind them. So far, Last Chance had considered her merely uninformed and maybe a little eccentric to willfully miss the season opener, but if she were seen joining the opposition, who knows what damage that might do?

The streets were empty and, except for the sound of honking growing fainter in the distance, silent. To the west, the vivid crimson, coral, and gold of a desert sunset reached high in the darkening turquoise of the sky. Jess sighed and let her head drop against the headrest. Filling in for Dr. Benavides had been exhilarating, and she had loved every moment, but the week had been exhausting. Through it all, the peaceful quiet of a Friday night at home had hung before her like a carrot on a stick, but now that it actually lay before her, Jess felt a little out of sorts. Even in medical school, when her colleagues took advantage of the rare free moment to catch up on their sleep, Jess had wanted company. She missed her friends. People energized her, and an evening sitting cross-legged on the sagging sofa of a student apartment sharing everything from cat videos to solutions to the world's problems to the deepest secrets of the heart was her idea of perfection. Loneliness, always hovering on the edges of her consciousness, moved in and threatened to crush her.

Enough of
that.
Jess rolled down her window and let the warm
wind that always picked up at sundown fill her car with the fragrance of sun-warmed mesquite.
You knew it
was going to take a while to find your niche
when you decided to move to a small town, so
just get over it and quit feeling sorry for yourself.
Call Mom if you have to talk to someone tonight.

Jess squared her shoulders as she turned off Main Street and headed for home. Giving herself stern lectures was something she did well, and furthermore, she usually listened. Becoming a part of Last Chance might not be easy, but she would do everything it took.

Just south of town, Jess could see the towering banks of lights illuminating the darkening sky.
Well, almost everything.

“Mom?” Jess's book kept her attention for almost an hour before the silence grew so heavy she could feel it pressing around her and she reached for her phone.

“Jess! How are you, honey? Everything okay?”

“Oh, I'm fine.” At the sound of her mother's voice, Jess realized she didn't feel fine at all. Tears stung her eyes. “I just miss you. That's all.”

“We miss you too, but you've wanted a small town practice since you were a little girl, so we can't feel too bad. You're doing what you've always wanted to do.”

Jess drew a shaky breath. “Am I?”

“Oh, honey, you sound so sad. What's wrong?”

“I don't know. It's just not what I thought it would be. There's this waitress at the diner who yells at me every time I go in there, and everyone I meet tells me they already have a doctor before I even say anything, and they all think I'm strange because I don't like football.”

“My goodness, that is rough.” Her mom's voice comforted Jess
like a warm hug, but even so, she could hear the laughter just below the surface. “I don't believe I'd go back to a restaurant where the waitress yelled at me every time. Maybe you should find another restaurant and look for some friends who have interests other than football.”

“Mom, there aren't any!” Jess knew she sounded like a fourteen-year-old, but sometimes, especially when you were talking to your mom, you just needed to be able to sound like a fourteen-year-old. “Seriously. There is one diner in the whole town, and the waitress yells. And everyone, and I mean
everyone
, is crazy about high school football. They think I'm the weird one.”

“I am sorry you're having a hard time of it, honey, but give it time. It always takes a while to adjust to a new place.”

“This is all your fault, you know.” Jess wasn't ready to listen to common sense. Not yet.

“My fault? How?”

“It's all those stories you told me about your grandpa being the only doctor in that little town. About how everyone in town knew him and called him Doc. About how you'd go with him and wait in the car when he made house calls after dinner, and how you'd stop and get ice cream on the way home.”

“My goodness, honey, that was a long, long time ago. Things have changed. Surely you noticed that's not the way your dad and I manage our practices.”

“Well, we lived in the city. That's why I wanted to live in a small town.”

Jess could hear her mother's sigh come over the phone.

“Well, darling, I'm sorry things aren't like you thought they would be, but as I see it, you have a couple choices. You can admit you made a mistake and cut your losses before you waste any more time. I ran into Moira Conner at the hospital the other day, and
she was asking about you. If you want to come home, she'd be the one to talk to.”

“But I don't want to come home.”

“Well then, it seems like the other thing you can do is decide you're going to succeed in Last Chance. If that means making friends with the waitress, do it. And if you need to go to football games to fit in, do that too. Buy a book and read up if you need to.”

Jess didn't say anything. She wanted Poor Baby Mom, not Get a Grip Mom.

“Oh, Jessica.” Her mother's voice softened again. “I have so much faith in you. You are an amazing woman and an amazing doctor. You can do anything you want, anywhere you want. That's just who you are. But you are the one who has to decide to do it. I can't do it for you. No one can. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jess didn't feel great, but she did feel better.

“Listen, honey, I'm going to have to run. We have tickets for the symphony tonight and your dad's standing at the front door looking at me.”

“Oh, sorry to keep you, Mom. Give Dad my love.”

“I will. And all our love to you too, sweetie.”

Jess punched End on her phone and leaned back against the sofa. Talking to her mom made her realize that she really did want to make a go of it here in Last Chance, and if that meant making friends with Juanita, she'd just have to figure out how. But reading up on football and all that rah-rah stuff? That just might be more than she could bring herself to do.

T
he banks of lights had faded to darkness and the parking lot had emptied before Andy finally got in his truck to head home. He had experienced losses on the field before, both at the University of Arizona and when he played for Denver, but never here before tonight. Not once. Funny. You'd think with all the talk of the Glory Days since he'd been back, he would have at least considered that at the end of every one of those eighty-four games, some team had straggled off the field in exhausted silence while the fans and players of the mighty Pumas of Last Chance celebrated their invincibility. Well, tonight it was San Ramon who celebrated.

Main Street was silent and empty when he drove back through town. It usually was this time of night, but back in the day, when win piled upon win, no one wanted to go home, and pickups piled with his friends slowly drove Main Street from one end to the other before turning and driving back the other way or heading up to San Ramon to find someplace to eat that actually stayed open past sundown. Man, that seemed like a long time ago, and when did he start feeling so old?

The phone in his pocket vibrated, but Andy ignored it. In the first place, his pickup hadn't been equipped to handle hands-free calling, and he'd never bothered to have it installed, but more than
that, he could not think of one person he wanted to talk to right now. As he passed by Jess's house, with its still lit windows, he glanced over out of recently acquired habit and shook his head.
Nope, not even her.

By the time he turned off onto the dirt road that led to his house and his headlights picked up the long, low adobe sitting under an ancient cottonwood tree, his phone had signaled several more calls.

Too bad. They'
re just going to have to wait till morning.

When he turned off his ignition and the house sank back in darkness, he sat in the cab a moment listening to the night wind toss the branches of the old tree before opening the door and heading for the front door.

Okay, shake it off. You've got a team
meeting tomorrow at 10:00 and another game to get ready
for next Friday. You need to let this one go.

He fixed himself a couple peanut butter sandwiches and poured a large glass of milk before he settled on the sofa, and by the time he'd finished one and downed the glass of milk, he was actually starting to feel a little better. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. It was too late to call anyone back even if he wanted to, which he didn't, but it wouldn't hurt to see who called. One message from Russ Sheppard, two from his mom, and three from people he didn't know. If he were anywhere else, he might have wondered how the strangers got his number so fast, but this was Last Chance. If anyone had his private number, everyone had his private number. He sighed as he hit Russ's message. Might as well get this over with and see what the mood was.

“Andy, this is Russ Sheppard. I imagine you and the boys are feeling kind of low right now, but I want you to know we're real proud of the effort you made tonight. San Ramon has always been a tough competitor, and this was just one game. We're still looking
for big things from you all, so put this one behind you and move on to the next. We're with you all the way. If you need anything at all, just let us know. That's what we're here for. Get some rest now, and we'll talk to you soon.”

Could be worse.
Andy took a deep breath and blew it out
. Now Mom.
If he knew for sure she just wanted to ask about the game, he'd let it wait, but there was always the possibility that something was wrong. He played the first message.

“Hi, honey, it's Mom. This is the big night, and Aunt Barb and I couldn't be more excited. We'll be praying for you all evening, so give us a call the minute the game is over, okay? Hang on a second . . . Aunt Barb says, ‘Go Pumas!' Love you!”

Andy leaned back against the sofa. He'd call in the morning. It was an hour later in Oklahoma, anyway. From the time stamp on Mom's second call, he guessed it was probably one of those that came in while he was on his way home from the game. Again the desire to put the game behind him, at least till morning, fought with the worry that somewhere between the first and second message, some disaster had befallen. And again, that responsibility he felt for his mom won. He hit Play Message.

“Hi, hon, it's me again. I'm thinking the game must be over now, and I'll bet you're worried about it being too late to call. Well, don't worry about that. Aunt Barb just made us a big bowl of popcorn and
The King and I
is fixing to come on TV. We're going to be up for a long time yet, so you call us, you hear? We won't be able to sleep a wink till we hear from you. Love you! Hang on . . . Aunt Barb sends her love too.”

Andy felt a flash of annoyance. He could picture his mother and his aunt sitting in their robes and slippers eating popcorn and watching the old musical with the phone in easy reach. And he had not the slightest doubt that they would wait up until he
called. Mom always waited up. He hit Call Back and dropped his head against the back of the sofa.

“There you are! We were starting to get worried.”

Andy hadn't been able to get his mom to use the mobile phone he bought her, but he had been able to get caller ID on her landline.

“Hi Mom.”

“Ooh. I don't like that tone. I guess things didn't go like you hoped?”

“Nope.” How did she get so much from two words?

“Oh, I'm sorry. What was the score?”

“Six to 31.”

“Oh, dear. Well, you'll do better next time. Was it a good game? Everyone played well and no one was hurt?”

“I don't know that I could call a 6 to 31 loss a good game, but no, no one was hurt.” Andy was more than ready to let his mom get back to her popcorn and movie, but she seemed to be settling in for a good chat.

“Well, that's good. We've been praying for safety for everyone. We even asked for prayer at church Wednesday night. We'll call in our praise report first thing tomorrow.”

“Praise report. Okay then. I guess you didn't think to pray for a win.”

There was a long pause on the line, and Andy could almost hear his mother carefully choosing her words.

“Well, honey, that just doesn't seem right. I know those other boys wanted a win just as much as you did. But we did pray that it would be a good game where everybody did their best and no one got hurt and that the Lord would rest his favor according to his will.”

“Apparently that was on San Ramon.” Andy really wanted to get this phone call over with before he said something he'd wind up having to apologize for.

“Andy, you just don't know how the Lord is going to use this game. Don't let this get out, or I may find myself banned from at least four states I can think of, but I really don't think the Lord puts much store in who wins or loses football games. I think he cares a lot more about how the game affects people's character and what they need to grow closer to him. That's why I always feel such peace putting it all in his hands.” She gave him a moment or two to respond if he felt like it, which he didn't, and when she spoke again her voice was warm. “Darlin', I know you're disappointed. Believe it or not, I'm disappointed too. I'm so disappointed I could cry. But I do believe the Lord had his hand on this game, however it ended. And we can have faith that good is going to come from it.”

A wave of tenderness swept away the irritation that had been chewing at him since he first realized he was going to have to call his mom, and he felt the tension slide from his shoulders. Personally, he didn't see the harm in praying for a win, especially if his mom did the praying. Her conversations with God were as easy and natural as his were with Kev, and he was pretty sure that all she'd have to do was ask. And he was just as sure that she wasn't going to do that. Mom was always going to be Mom.

“Okay, I'm going to let you get back to your movie now. I'm ready to call it a night, even if you two party animals are still going strong.” He smiled into the phone. “When are you going to come see me? I'm getting the old place all fixed up. I'd like for you to see what I've done.”

Silence grew, and in the background Andy could hear someone singing.

“I just don't know about that, honey.” When she did speak, her voice was carefully measured. “But we'd love it if you were to come see us. When can you come? Thanksgiving?”

“I can't promise Thanksgiving. We might still be in the playoffs,
not that tonight is any indication of that.” Andy recognized a subject being changed when he heard it. “But what about Christmas? I can spend about a week at Christmas. How would that be?”

“Christmas? You mean that? Hang on.” Andy waited while she imparted the news to Aunt Barb. In a minute she was back. “We are just beside ourselves, but can't you stay longer than a week? We just never get to see you.”

“We'll see.” Actually, Andy had planned on getting some serious work done on the house during Christmas break, but going into that now with his mom might mean another forty-five minutes on the phone. “Right now, though, I've got to get to bed. Love you, and give Aunt Barb a hug for me.”

“I love you too, honey. Christmas! I just can't wait. I think we'll have to get ourselves a real tree this year.”

After he hung up the phone, Andy leaned back against the sofa and looked around. There had not been a lot of money to keep the place in good repair when he was growing up, and after he left, it really started to fall apart. The various renters and caretakers he had found over the years only slowed the process, but now, as he found the rare block of time to work on it, it was slowly becoming the home he intended to live in for the rest of his life. And when it was beautiful again—when not even the most careful observer could find where a fist-sized hole in the wall had been patched or a door had been kicked in—maybe he and his mom could both finally forget.

“Things always look better when the sun comes up.” How many times had he heard his mom say that? Well, it wasn't the only thing she was usually right about. Andy finished his stretches and headed down the dirt road at an easy run. The sun had yet to crest the mountains and a light wind still held the cool of an early autumn
dawn, but as the landscape lightened, so did his outlook. In a few hours, when he met with his team, they could talk about last night's game with an optimistic look to the future.

He hadn't been running long when he spotted another runner ahead on the trail that skirted town, and even if, as far as he knew, Jess wasn't the only other adult in Last Chance who ran every morning, the sheen of copper in her hair would have given her away. He quickened his pace until he pulled alongside her.

“Mornin'.”

Jess's cheeks were red and damp curls framed her face, but she smiled a greeting through even puffs of breath.

“You got a head start on me, I see. Mind if I join you?”

Still no words, but she smiled again as she shook her head, and he shortened his stride a little to match hers.

The dawn wind died as the sun finally found its way over the top of the San Ramon range and flooded the valley around Last Chance with light. Except for the occasional flutelike song of a meadowlark or the melancholy call of a mourning dove, the only sound was the soft and rhythmic thud of their feet on the dirt path, and though at that moment Andy felt as if he could run forever, it wasn't long before he felt the sweat trickle down his back and his own breaths were deep and measured.

Andy could probably have run another mile or so by the time they reached the vacant lot in the cul-de-sac and walked through to Elizabeth's street, but Jess was clearly ready to call it a morning, and Andy decided he'd rather cool down with Jess than take off and leave her behind.

“Whoo, that was good.” Jess stretched her hands over her head and laced her fingers before dropping them again and rolling her shoulders. “Sometimes I have to just about kick myself out the door in the mornings, but I'm always glad I do.”