“Right,” Felicia agreed.
They all stood there staring at the syrups and the milk and the spices.
“So, what’s stopping you?” Carissa asked
Mary-Beth dropped her head to the counter and beat her fist near her ear. “I’ve got nothing. For the first time in my life, I can’t even make a cup of coffee, let alone a perfectly crafted beverage for a person.” She looked up at her friends, hoping for them to soothe her worries. “What does this mean?”
“You know what it means…” Felicia offered her most sympathetic, sweet, scandalous smile.
“Oh, dear Lord, no. I can’t still be in love with Tanner McCadden!”
Chapter Eight
The lunch bell on the front porch rang, letting Tanner know that his mom had cooked something up. Part of him didn’t want to go inside and face the look he’d received earlier. But the other part of him wanted to know what she’d meant when she had insinuated that his father did want him around and that Tanner had it all wrong.
He snagged his shirt from the post and slid his arms into it, abandoning the back-aching work of fence repair for some sustenance. The aroma of his childhood favorite, steak and cheese sandwiches, wafted from inside. He opened the screen door with a loud squeak. Great… Something else that needed tending to.
“Don’t forget to take off your boots. No mud in my house,” his mom called from the kitchen.
With one hand to the wood-shingled wall, he kicked off a boot and then the other, trying not to fall face first over the threshold due to his legs spasming. Every inch of his body either had a scrape, bruise, or sore muscle. His mom set his plate at his old kitchen table seat and sat across from him. The head of the table, his father’s seat, stood empty, along with his brother’s. They’d once shared boisterous meals, but now the kitchen remained muted, old, and worn.
The smell made his stomach noticeably growl in the quiet, so he picked up the hearty sandwich, only to get smacked.
“Where are your manners? Give thanks before you gobble that down.”
He felt like he was ten again with the scolding, but he obliged since this was still her house. He clasped his hands together and tried to give thanks but couldn’t imagine what to thank their dear Lord for. Their town pastor always said things happened all according to God’s plan, but what was his plan with all this? Father dead, mother suffering, land drying up, crops neglected, repairs, and now coaching football? No way. He unclasped his hands and dug into his meal.
With one bite, he melted into his chair and closed his eyes. “No one in the city makes these the way you do.”
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, son.” She set her napkin in her lap and took a nibble of her own half sandwich. “So, tell me what Mary-Beth came by to talk to you about. She looked nervous and stressed when she arrived.”
“Nothing worth mentioning. She just had some crazy idea that I should coach high school football while I’m here.”
“Why’s that crazy?”
He dropped his sandwich, coughing and gasping until he managed to swallow his bite and some milk. After recovering, he looked at his mom as if she’d been hit by Gobbles and suffered a head injury. “Seriously?”
She placed her sandwich down in a manner befitting the Queen of Bulgaria instead of a farm woman. “Give me three good reasons why you shouldn’t.”
He matched her posture and ticked off on his fingers. “I don’t have time with the work here.”
“I’ll help, and the town is coming out Saturday to work on some repairs so that it looks nice for Mayor Horton and Mr. Strickland’s wedding. And you need a life beyond the farm if you’re going to stay.”
“I’m not.” He took another gulp of milk. “I’m only here until Hawk can return home. He’s the one meant to inherit the farm. No way Pops would’ve left it to me.”
“We’ll get back to that. That’s only one reason. What are the other two?”
He held up the next finger. “I’m a college coach. Why would I coach high school?” He laughed nervously.
“So, you think giving back to the people of this town who lifted you up and gave you opportunities with football don’t deserve you? That you’re too above these people now?”
“No.” He rubbed his forehead, feeling the grit of outside on his skin. “I mean, I’m sure they have someone else to coach a high school team to state. Why me?”
“Why not? You’re the best this town has to offer.” She took another bite and then wiped her hands. “And the third reason?”
“Do I need another one?”
“You haven’t given any valid ones yet. You’ve given excuses, not reasons. First one, we’ve already established the town will help. The second, we understand, is that your pride won’t let you do it, and the third? I’m guessing has to do with Mary-Beth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a massive bite and chewed the steak like an angry bull.
“You don’t? Then give me a valid reason why my son—who I raised to be a loving, caring child with a responsibility to the community —won’t go help out a bunch of kids with a dream. A dream he shared once.”
The guilt weighed on him. “What if I don’t even like football anymore?”
“You’ve decided you don’t like the game? The same game that you obsessed over when you could crawl to the box and pull out the ball to throw and catch before you could stand? The same game that you ate, slept, and devoted every waking hour to as a kid? You know that for sure?”
“No. Not for sure. Coaching college ball as an assistant is too disconnected from the actual game, and if I’m being honest, I think I resent the game. You said that Dad cared about me despite football, but what was I supposed to think? He didn’t speak to me from the moment I lost my scholarship.”
“It’s complicated.” She pushed back from the table.
A lump lodged in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me about Pops’s condition? All those years. I could’ve been here to help, to be with him.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open for a second before she closed it and rose from the table. “That’s why we didn’t want to tell you. Your father and I never had a choice but to remain on this farm. We don’t regret the years we spent here, but it was his duty to stay. He wanted you and your brother to have a choice.”
“A choice means there were options.” He swallowed, but the lump wouldn’t move. His eyes misted as he remembered that empty feeling of loneliness and disappointment that had raged and ruled over him for years. “Mom, how do you think I felt when he drove me away after my injury? I was broken and alone and felt like no one cared about me because I wasn’t the star we all thought I’d be. It was humbling and horrible.”
“We can’t change the past. Just know everything your father ever did was out of love.” She shot from the kitchen before he could press her further.
It didn’t matter, though. She was right about one thing… He couldn’t change the past, but what did he want for his future? Football had brought him nothing but disappointment and a wedge between him and his family.