6

You know, I have this funny pain in my knee sometimes. Not really a pain, more of a twinge, I guess.” Juanita set Jess’s salad on the table in front of her and bent to rub the offending joint. “It just comes and goes for no apparent reason. There’s no bruise or anything. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

“Is it swollen?” Jess knew better than to engage in casual encounter diagnoses, but the question just seemed to pose itself.

“No. There’s nothing you can see that might be causing it. It just up and hurts awhile and then it quits.” Juanita’s forehead furrowed. “What do you think?”

Jess looked at Juanita’s knee, covered as it was with thick support hose. “I really can’t tell anything without examining it. Why don’t you call the office and make an appointment? We shouldn’t have much trouble fitting you in.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Juanita’s expression relaxed and she flapped a dismissive hand. “I have an appointment with my regular doctor in a couple weeks. If it’s still bothering me, I’ll get him to check it for me. I just thought since you were here and all that you might be able to tell me something.”

She moved off, without a trace of a limp, to ask the next table if they needed any more iced tea, and Jess picked up her fork. And there you have the second most effective way of dealing with tableside medical consultations—the first being to ask the patient to disrobe.

Jess looked around the room as she ate her lunch. Every time she came into the Dip ’n’ Dine, she felt a little less like a stranger, and that felt good. In the excitement of her plans, she had dismissed her mother’s concern that she was moving somewhere where she wouldn’t know a soul. She liked people and never had trouble making friends. But she had never encountered a place like Last Chance, where everybody seemed to have known everybody else all their lives. They were friendly and even welcoming, but she still had that feeling that she was company and they were family.

Across the room Lainie Braden, still slim in her uniform, took an order from two men perched side by side on counter stools. Lainie had been new once, but now she was as much a part of the town as the craggy eastern mountains or the faded asphalt highway that called itself Main Street as it ran through town.

Jess munched thoughtfully on a bite of lettuce. I wonder if I would sound pathetic if I asked her what her secret is. Probably. I’ll just give it a little more time.

As if she could sense Jess’s gaze, Lainie looked up and met her eyes with a wide smile. She murmured something to the men at the counter before making her way across the room to where Jess sat by the window.

“Hey there. How are you doing?” She really did seem glad to see her, and Jess felt her loneliness shift a little to make room for the warmth of Lainie’s smile.

“I’m fine, but how are you doing? Still feeling good?”

Lainie laughed. “I’m feeling great. And if you could turn that into a medical diagnosis and tell my husband and his grandmother, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Jess let the comment about the diagnosis pass.

“Of course, you probably need to wait till after my appointment, but I’m counting on you.”

“Appointment?” Jess hadn’t heard about that.

“I know, it’s not for another three weeks, but I went ahead and scheduled one. I didn’t want to wait to the last minute and then find out you were all booked up and couldn’t take any more patients.”

“Yeah, that’s a real possibility.” Jess laughed. “But I couldn’t be more tickled. And once we’ve had that first appointment, you can count on me being in your corner all the way. If at all feasible, Mom calls the shots, I say.”

“I knew I liked you.” Lainie grinned. “Mom. Wow. I have to get used to that.”

“How’s that salad? Need some more iced tea?” Juanita appeared at the table and stood just close enough to Lainie that she had to step back a little.

Lainie took the hint and gave Jess a wink as she moved away. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Juanita watched her go and turned back to Jess with a shake of her head. “That girl is just the sweetest thing ever, and I’ve loved her since the day she landed in Last Chance, but she does like to visit with the customers. Now, how about a little more tea.”

“Thanks.” Jess nudged her glass a little closer.

“I just have to ask.” Juanita poured the tea and stood back regarding Jess’s plate. “Why do you get that salad every time you come in here? I mean, it’s good and all, but it’s probably the most boring thing on the whole menu. Are you on some kind of weird diet or something?”

“No. I just like salad.” With Juanita looming over her, Jess felt a little protective of her plate of greens.

“Well, you must, that’s all I can say. Have you even tried anything else on the menu?”

“Um, no. Not for lunch, anyway.” Jess looked around the room. All the other diners were eating as if Juanita calling someone on the carpet was nothing new, and Lainie was nowhere in sight. If Jess were anywhere else, she’d ask for the check and flee, never to return, but something told her that she didn’t want to burn that bridge. She smiled up at Juanita, trying to keep her voice light. “But you never know. I might surprise you someday.”

“Shock me someday is more like it.” Juanita gave Jess’s plate one last contemptuous glance and sighed. “Well, if that day ever comes, let me know and I’ll recommend something. Carlos is the best cook in this part of the state, and it’s not his salads that he’s known for.”

Juanita took her iced tea pitcher and moved off to tend some other table, looking for all the world as if she hadn’t just raked a customer over the coals for her menu choice, and Jess watched her go. Some people leaned back in their booth and propped their elbows on the table for a chat; others barely glanced up and went back to their meals. Juanita seemed equally at ease with either reaction. Maybe that was the key. Let Juanita be Juanita; just don’t let her under your skin.

Down the road at the high school just past the edge of town, Andy shoved the last of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his mouth and brushed the crumbs off his desk. Peanut butter and jelly had pretty much become his diet since football practice started. It was easy to slap on some bread in the predawn darkness before he headed to school in the morning, and it didn’t take more strength than he had left when he dragged himself home in the evening. Good thing he liked peanut butter. Or he had before football practice started.

“How’d it go?” Kev came in looking happy and well fed. But then, he went home for lunch.

Andy shrugged. “About like you’d expect, I guess. No one likes getting cut, especially when we’re this far into preseason practice. I expect I’ll be getting a few calls tonight from dads demanding an explanation.”

“Glad it’ll be you and not me.” Kev leaned over the desk and turned the roster so he could see it. “I guess this is when it gets hard. These last few might play if they were at a larger school.”

“Well, it’s never easy to let someone go when they really want it.” Andy leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head.

“Like this one. Man, he’s a fighter. Too bad he’s got so many strikes against him.” Kev tapped the sheet with a pencil.

Andy leaned to look. “Who, Quintana? Yeah, you’re right on both counts. He’s got a rough row to hoe, all right. And he is a fighter. That’s why I’m not quite ready to let him go yet.”

“Really? I had him pegged for next. I feel for the guy, but he has a hard time even making it to practice. And when it comes to raw talent, he just doesn’t have what some of these other guys have—guys you’d have to cut to keep him.”

Andy didn’t say anything. His assistant was right. Gabe was the next logical cut. He was smaller than most of the other players and had already missed two early morning practices. And more than once, Andy had held off summoning the team from the track for a few minutes because he saw Gabe’s battered pickup speeding down the highway and throwing up a cloud of dust as it careened into the parking lot. But man, he could scrap. Whether it was drills or a scrimmage, Gabe Quintana went after it like it was the championship game and it all depended on him.

“Well, you’re the coach. I’m the first to admit that you know a whole lot more about this process than I do.” Kev broke the silence and headed back to his desk. “Say, if you could monitor the weight room this afternoon, I’d sure like an hour or two to go work on my classroom. I’ll need to be switching hats back and forth here pretty soon.”

“Sure. No problem. I guess I got so wrapped up in what we’re doing here that I’d forgotten you have classes to teach.”

“Yep. Two American history, one world history, and a government class. Coaches teach around here, unless you’re a football hero or something.” Kev grinned and raised both hands when Andy glanced up at him. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that we haven’t had a full-time athletic director since the Glory Days. I guess the school board’s counting on you having your hands full getting another streak like that one started.”

Andy shook his head. “Nope, I read the contract carefully. It said coach the football team and coordinate the rest of the athletic program. Not a word about a winning streak.”

“Yeah, right. Check again and this time read between the lines; you’ll find it, trust me.” Kev reached for his hat. “Listen, if I go now, I’ll be back in plenty of time to make sure we’re ready for late practice. Okay with you?”

“Sure.” Andy waved him away and went back to the papers piled all over his desk. He didn’t need to go back over his contract to read between the lines. With every interview he’d had before being hired, with every conversation since then that had turned to the Glory Days, with every discussion with Russ Sheppard and the Boosters, over and over he had said the same thing: this is a different time, these are different boys, you can’t saddle them with the past. And everyone had nodded solemnly and agreed. And every single one of them, Andy knew, cherished in his heart the belief that the mighty Pumas of tiny Last Chance were poised again to be the talk of the state, maybe even the whole country. He found himself longing for one, even one, conversation that didn’t devolve to the Glory Days. And even though he knew exactly the one person he’d like to have that conversation with, he didn’t see how he could squeeze it in until after football season.

Jess slowed her car and rolled down the window as she passed the Welcome to Last Chance sign and drove into town. The warm, dry air, golden with sunset and still spicy with roasting chile, slid across her shoulders and ruffled her hair, chasing the chill she still felt after her day in the air-conditioned offices of the San Ramon Medical Center. Her first full day of taking Dr. Benavides’s patients while he was on vacation had been long and exhausting but so rewarding. She hadn’t put in a day like that since her residency. This, this was what she was created to do.

As she pulled up to the town’s one blinking stoplight, she saw Andy Ryan’s pickup approach the intersection from across the street. She returned his wave and made her turn. If he were on his way home, he ought to be right behind her. A quick glance in her rearview mirror confirmed that, and she smiled. She was even more pleased when she pulled into her driveway and he stopped at the curb.

“Hi there. It’s been awhile. How are you?” Jess got out of her car and walked to the truck where Andy leaned across the seat to smile at her through the passenger window.

“Doing great. Busy.” He had the nicest smile. “How about you? Still getting those runs in?”

“Oh, yes. Every morning. Then I walk awhile with Elizabeth Cooley. She’s amazing.”

“Oh, everybody knows that Elizabeth’s amazing. She gives Last Chance bragging rights. Right up there with the chile and the Dip ’n’ Dine.”

“And, of course, the football team.” Jess had meant to sound supportive, but she noticed Andy’s smile dimmed just a little as he nodded.

“Yep. There’s the football team.”

“Why don’t you come in? We’ll dig around and find something to eat.” Jess had no idea what was in her kitchen. Certainly whatever they found would bear no resemblance to the feast they had shared at Elizabeth’s, but she was pretty sure she could scare something up.

“Nah, I should get on home.” Andy leaned back behind the wheel. “Looks like you’ve had a long day. You probably want to just kick off your shoes and relax.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. But I don’t see any reason why that means you can’t come in. I’m not planning on cooking a big meal, if that’s what you’re worried about, but we should be able to find something to eat while we talk.”

“Peanut butter?”

“Ew. No. Sorry, not peanut butter.”

Andy opened his door. “Then I’m your man.”

Jess cocked an eyebrow as Andy joined her on the sidewalk. “That’s your criterion? No peanut butter? Are you allergic?”

“Getting that way.” Andy followed her down the walk and into the house. He shoved both hands in his pockets and looked around. “Wow. It’s been over ten years since I’ve been here. Brings back a lot of memories.”

Jess had already kicked off her shoes at the door and was heading for the kitchen. She stuck her head back around the corner. “When were you here?”

“Back when I was growing up, Rita and her family were still living here and I knew both her sons. I played football with them, as a matter of fact.” Andy followed her to the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb as Jess rummaged around in the refrigerator. “As you can imagine, Rita was involved in every aspect of the boys’ lives. Den mother when we were little, Booster president when we started playing sports. And every Tuesday night, all through junior high and high school, she had the whole youth group from church over for supper and Bible study. I’ll bet she made enough spaghetti sauce over the years to float a battleship.”

“Sounds like Rita.” Jess put some eggs and cheese on the counter and went back to the refrigerator. “I knew the house was hers, of course. I’m renting from her. But I guess I just assumed she’d always been mayor and ran the motel.”

“No, she didn’t run for mayor until the kids left home.” Andy shifted positions and folded his arms over his chest. “And then when her husband Mike died, she bought the motel. I guess it just got too quiet for her here.”

“I can understand that. I feel more alive when I’m around people too. I couldn’t stand it if all of a sudden I had nothing to do.” Setting a tomato and a few mushrooms on the counter next to the eggs and cheese, Jess let the refrigerator door swing shut. “Omelets okay?”

“Omelets sound great.” Andy pushed away from the doorjamb and joined Jess at the counter. “What can I do?”

“Here. You can grate some cheese.” She reached into a drawer and pulled out the grater. “I’ll make some decaf coffee.”

As he went to work on the chunk of cheese, Jess glanced up at him. How had she not noticed how tall he was? And how had she not noticed how broad his shoulders were and that his hands were so big that the block of cheese he held all but disappeared? Yep, he was a specimen, all right.

He glanced over and caught her looking. “What?”

Jess laughed. “You. Remember the morning I first met you at the Dip ’n’ Dine? Before Rita even brought me over to introduce me to you, she told me what a football hero you were. And of course, that’s pretty much all I’ve heard about you ever since, but this is the first time I’ve noticed how well you fit the image. I’ll bet if I look in the dictionary under ‘jock,’ I’ll find your picture. Do you have to carry a club to keep the girls at bay?”

“Nope. I just stiff-arm them. Football training can come in handy.” Andy went back to his cheese grater, but his smile had disappeared.

“Okay, what’d I say wrong?” Jess folded her arms and leaned against the counter. “Girls don’t come after you in droves? What?”

Andy finished his task and dropped the grater in the sink. “I guess I’ve just never liked the term ‘jock.’ It’s a label—like all labels, I guess—that dismisses anything else I am. Plus, it trivializes the work and drive and even pain that go into playing the best game I can play.” His half smile was a little rueful. “Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I realized. Didn’t mean to get all bristly.”

Jess was silent a minute. “You know, I get it, and I’m sorry. It’s the same with ‘geek.’ Growing up, I certainly had all the qualifications, and it was never meant as an insult, at least not by anyone whose opinion I cared anything about, but it does trivialize your accomplishments, doesn’t it? I mean, of course I took all that math and science; that’s what geeks take. Of course I had a 4.4 GPA; geeks are smart. Well, let me tell you that none of that was handed to me on a platter. I had to work and work hard for it.”

Andy just looked at her. “You had a 4.4? Wow, you are a geek. I didn’t even know GPAs went that high.”

Grabbing an oven mitt from the counter, Jess took a swipe at him. “Just go sit down and let me make these omelets.”

Andy swung a chair around and straddled it while Jess cracked eggs into a bowl and whipped them with a fork. He didn’t say anything, but she felt his gaze. When she slid the last omelet onto a plate and turned around, he was resting his chin on hands he had folded on the back of the chair.

She smiled as she set the plates on the table and went for the coffeepot. “Tired, or just lost in thought?”

“Both, I guess.” He got up and pulled Jess’s chair out before turning his own around to face the table. “Mostly just thinking.”

No one but headwaiters had ever pulled out her chair, and if her earlier attempts at teasing him hadn’t fallen flat, she might have told him so. Instead, she just smiled her thanks and sat down.

“Care to share any of those deep thoughts?” She filled their cups and picked up her fork.

Andy appeared to be waiting for something, but after a second or two, he picked up his own fork. “Nothing deep. Just being here in the Sandovals’ house got me thinking about all those kids I grew up with. We’d sit around here on Tuesday nights and talk about what we were going to do with our lives. It just never occurred to any of us that we might fail.”

“Fail?”

“Well, maybe not fail, but hardly any of us are living the lives we thought we would.”

“What did you think you would do?”

His grin looked a little sheepish. “Well, I wanted to play football, of course—college, even the NFL, and then coach.”

“And isn’t that exactly what you did? I mean, to the letter?”

“Yeah, I guess, but with a couple exceptions. I didn’t think I’d be coaching high school football, and I got here about ten years ahead of schedule.”

“Why’s that?” Jess regretted the question as soon as it left her lips, but she could never seem to learn to be anything but direct.

Andy held her gaze a long moment before looking down and pushing a bite of omelet around his plate with his fork. When he looked up, all traces of a smile had left his face.

“I wasn’t good enough.”

“Now, I may not know anything about football, but I know that’s not true.” Jess was back on solid ground. Helping folks stay positive was part of her training, as well as who she was. “It may have felt that way, but Rita showed me that scrapbook she kept. I just saw the headlines, of course, but it was pretty clear that you were good.”

“Ah, Rita.” Andy’s grin was back, even if it was a little lopsided. “She’s a one-woman cheer squad.”

“Maybe so, but she didn’t write those articles; she just clipped them. So what happened? What brought you back to Last Chance? Unless it’s something you don’t want to talk about.”

“No, it’s pretty much common knowledge. I was backup quarterback for the Broncos for about five seasons. Seemed like a lot of that time was spent recovering from injuries that I got when I did get some playing time. Then, when it looked like I was going to get my shot at quarterback, they brought in someone else. And behind me was another hotshot quarterback they had just drafted. I saw the writing on the wall. It wasn’t going to happen for me, and since I didn’t want to spend the next who-knows-how-many seasons freezing on the bench watching other men play, I retired. If you can call it retiring.”

Silence fell in the little kitchen as Andy turned his attention to his omelet. After a few seconds, Jess reached across the table and put her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out like you wanted it to. That had to have been rough. But don’t forget, the people around here know football, and they watched everything you described unfold. If all I had to listen to was you, I’d think yours was a sad and sorry tale, but everybody in town can relate every detail of your career, and you’re still the biggest hero in town.”

“Well, their outlook may be just a little limited, not to mention biased.” Andy’s grin was back.

“I think you’re underestimating both the town and yourself.” Jess threw her napkin next to her plate and pushed her chair back. “Now, I think I still have some cherry vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Want some?”