The evening after the family dinner at the hacienda, as the shadows lengthened and the air cooled, Jenna sat at the high school football game on a top bleacher. Several rows separated her from other spectators. Her choice.
It was going to be a long night. According to the scoreboard, there were twelve minutes and twenty seconds left in the game. The junior varsity game. The event before varsity warm-ups, pep stuff, band stuff, intros, varsity game, halftime, more varsity game, so on and so forth, ad nauseam.
The game clock stopped. Twelve minutes and fifteen seconds.
“Hey, Mrs. Mason!” The shout came from below.
Jenna scanned the crowd. People moved about every which way through the stands. As someone sat down, Amber Ames appeared, waving like a lost person at an overhead helicopter. She made a beeline up to Jenna’s row.
Yessiree. It was going to be a really, really long game.
“Hi.” Amber smiled and plopped down beside her.
“Hi.”
“Guess what I learned third hour? Our husbands are seven thousand, seven hundred thirty-one miles from San Diego. Isn’t that the most depressing thing you’ve heard today?”
“It is. Thanks for sharing it.”
“I’m a firm believer that misery loves company. Lucky you.” She bumped her arm against Jenna’s. “Go ahead, tell me the most depressing thing you heard today.”
She didn’t have to think long. “Kevin called last night.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!”
“It was.” Past tense. The glow was long gone. “He said he figured tonight was the first game and he sure hoped I would go to it, sort of as his proxy to encourage the guys he coached last year.”
Amber’s face was expectant.
“That’s it,” Jenna said.
“I take it you don’t like football.”
Jenna sighed. “Watching any sport is like watching mold grow, but . . .” She shrugged.
“I know. It’s not depressing that you’re bored. It’s depressing that a football game makes you just absolutely wallow in his not being where he used to be.”
Jenna blinked, surprised at her insight. “Exactly. Not to mention I can also now wallow in the fact that Kevin is seven thousand, seven hundred thirty-one miles from where he used to be.”
Amber gave her a sad smile. “See? Now, didn’t that feel good? To vent all that negative energy with someone who’s just as miserable as you are?”
Jenna looked at the blonde with appreciation. Amber might exhibit a featherbrained persona, but Jenna was beginning to realize Amber was nothing like that. Not only did she teach chemistry, she had plucked Jenna’s heartstrings with the finesse of a master violinist. Twice.
Jenna said, “Thanks. It did feel good. I have friends. You’ll notice, however, that not a one is here tonight holding my hand. My very best friend, Steph, probably would have come but she moved to Dallas last month. Even she, though, can’t quite—well, none of them quite get it, do they?”
“They can’t. Not unless they can say, ‘Been there, done that.’”
“I find myself saying dumb things to defend myself, things like ‘Just walk a mile in my moccasins and then you won’t think I’m such a shrew.’”
“I keep asking for cheese to go with my whine.”
Jenna smiled.
“We could team teach a unit on clichés.” Amber chuckled. “So tell me about this mold growth—I mean this game.”
“I don’t know anything about it. Don’t you?”
“Nope, I just came because it was something to do on a Friday night. And since your Kevin coached last year, I thought you might be here. Given we share the same size in moccasins, I figured hanging out with you might give me a respite.”
Like a cloud moving in front of the sun, Jenna saw a somberness creep over Amber’s face and obliterate its sparkle. The dimples disappeared.
Odd how another’s pain took the edge off her own.
“Thank you, Amber.”
“Thank you.”
“Earlier, when I said that about my friends not being here to hold my hand, I didn’t mean it literally.”
Amber stared at her for a moment, her face going deadpan. “I’m really glad you said that. I was a little concerned about holding your hand.”
“Just so we understand each other.”
“Got it.” Amber burst into laughter.
And Jenna joined in.
No way!” Amber stretched her mouth into an elongated oval. “You weren’t a cheerleader?”
Jenna smiled at her reaction. Amber’s exuberance had halved the time it took mold to grow on the football field. Darkness had fallen already and—if she understood the scoreboard—it was almost time for intermission of the varsity game. Intermission? Make that halftime. Talk about featherbrained.
“Honestly, Jenna, I took you for Miss Popular when you were in high school. Homecoming queen and all.”
“Nope. I played violin and piano. Orchestra, private lessons, and all that. My older brother was homecoming king a couple years ahead of me. He says I was always too bossy to be popular. I think I still am. The guys here adore Kevin. The girls are friendly to me because it puts them one step closer to the hottest coach they’ve ever seen. For me, they have a nickname.” She waited to see if Amber knew it.
“Bullhead Mason.”
“Yeah. There might be others.”
“I don’t know of any, but I have heard my best students talk about how hard you push them. They see that as a good thing. There’s respect in their voices.”
Jenna shrugged. “You obviously have a good rapport with the kids.” Students kept calling out to Mrs. Ames and climbing up the bleachers to greet her. Some acknowledged Jenna as well, more as a polite afterthought, though.
Now Amber shrugged. “You and I have different personalities. I grew up an Army brat, all over the world. I learned early to roll with the punches. My four older brothers made sure of that. I wasn’t allowed to whine, cry, be shy, or act bossy. Dating was a nightmare. Joey practically had to win a fistfight with each one of my brothers before we got engaged. Heads up!” She blew out a breath. “Two o’clock.”
“What?” Jenna followed Amber’s gaze to their right. Cade Edmunds was climbing the bleachers in their direction.
“Speaking of holding hands . . .” Amber leaned toward her and murmured. “He can hold mine anytime.”
Jenna studied her face, looking for clues. “Are you serious?”
Amber laughed. “Partly. I mean, I wouldn’t really hold hands with him, but he is magnetic and inviting in that way. Joey says if I like the bald look, he’ll shave his head.”
“You told Joey your boss is magnetic and inviting?”
“Sure. It keeps my guy on his toes. Makes him want to come home in one piece to win the magnetic contest. Hey, Mr. Edmunds!” she called out.
“Hey, ladies.” He sat down on Jenna’s other side and quickly averted his gaze to the field below. “Great game, huh?”
She exchanged a look with Amber and they snickered.
Jenna said, “If you want an enlightened view on that subject, you’ve come to the wrong bleacher.”
“You two don’t have a clue.” He half stood, punched the air, and shouted a cheer along with everyone else on the bleachers. “Yes! Way to go, guys!”
Jenna smiled at Amber’s exaggerated yawn.
Still applauding, Cade sat back down. “You gotta tell Kevin about this. His guys are out there doing what he tried to get them to do all last year. It has come together.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her. “Tell him the offensive line really jelled.”
“Huh?”
Eyes still on the game, Cade said, “The offensive line jelled. Think of it as the most exquisite dénouement in some Shakespeare play. That’s what you’re seeing down there, all the pieces coming together to execute a work of art.” He threw a brief smile her way. “Maybe when it’s over, you can remember who wins and tell him that too.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I might even manage to memorize the score.”
He chuckled. Bracing one foot on the empty bleacher below them, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his lightweight jacket. An elbow touched her arm. “I hear they’re doing military salutes everywhere these days. At concerts, Padres games, the zoo, Sea World.” He paused. “Sundance High football game.”
Jenna tensed.
“It was the team’s idea. We’ve got three players with brothers overseas, plus a few dozen other students with some relative in uniform. Then there’s the faculty.”
Amber sighed. “Are these boys sweet or what?”
Jenna slid to the edge of the bleacher, put her weight on her feet, ready to flee. “When?”
“Right about . . .” Cade looked at the scoreboard and counted down the seconds. “Three, two, one. Now.” The horn blared. “Before the team heads off the field.”
The announcer’s voice boomed through the loudspeaker, asking people to remain in their seats for a moment. As he explained what was going on, Jenna met Cade’s stare.
“Jenna, they’re his guys. They need to do this.” He shifted. His shoulder pressed gently against hers.
On her other side, Amber hooked an arm through Jenna’s, not saying a word.
Jenna turned to her. The dim light caught the glisten of a teardrop on Amber’s eyelashes.
If not for being tightly hemmed in by Amber and Cade, Jenna would have bolted down the bleachers and gotten lost in the crowd rather than hear it again. Like at the faculty meeting, names of military personnel were read along with their family members, first students, then faculty. Amber stood. Just as it seemed they might have forgotten Kevin Mason, the announcer began to talk about him.
About his accomplishments at the high school the previous year.
About his impact on the boys whose older brothers had gone overseas.
About his prior service in the Marines.
About his wife.
At last his name was pronounced.
Then Jenna’s.
As one, the football team looked up at her and cheered. Spectators joined in and began to stand until it all became an earsplitting ovation.
Amber motioned for her to stand.
She couldn’t. She didn’t deserve recognition just because she was married to Kevin. All she did was cry, curse the USMC, complain about his absence, and count the days until he would come home. Last fall, when he reenlisted, she had even separated from him for a while and could not imagine how she’d ever remain married to such a man. He looked heroic to some. To her, though, his actions felt like abandonment.
Cade still sat beside her. He slanted toward her. “You can do this.”
His face blurred before her. She shook her head.
“The kids need you to.” In the shadows he took her hand and helped her to her feet.
The crowd went wild. Jenna bawled.
And Cade Edmunds squeezed her hand.