CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HANNAH PULLED ON HER NIGHTGOWN and washed her face before knocking softly on Kenny’s door. She hadn’t wanted to pounce on him the second he came in from outside. When she’d summoned him to speak to Gabe, he’d looked pretty beleaguered. Considering how sore he must be from the fight, and the way Russ was behaving, suddenly taking a stand against something he normally would have applauded as a healthy display of masculinity, Kenny’s day had probably not been a very good one.
“What did Gabe have to say?” she asked when her son told her to come in.
“Just the usual,” he muttered. In bed with the lights off, he had Sheryl Crow on the stereo.
Hannah could smell a hint of the sweaty socks and T-shirts he tossed in the hamper instead of the basket on the washing machine, and the dirt on the tennis shoes and cleats that were supposed to be left in the garage but were in the middle of his floor. Both smells reminded her of Kenny as a little boy. But she could also detect the Abercrombie & Fitch cologne her son had wanted for his birthday and ordered through the Internet. He only wore it when he went out on the weekends, but it was that particular scent that made her realize how soon he’d be an adult. In three years he’d graduate from high school and head off to college. It was hard to believe.
Then it’d be just her and Brent.
“What’s the usual?” she asked. “Surely the head coach doesn’t visit every player before a big game.”
“I’m the quarterback, Mom. Coach Holbrook wanted to know if I was ready to play on Friday, that’s all.”
She moved away from the door frame and sat on the foot of his bed. “So not only are you getting to play, you’re starting.”
“I guess.”
“Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound too happy.
“Are you ready?”
He sighed heavily. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“Your father seemed a little upset tonight.”
Kenny shoved up onto his elbows. “What does he have to be upset about? I apologized to Sly, like he wanted me to.”
“He’s afraid you’re mad at him for forcing the issue.”
“I am!”
“I think he was trying to do the right thing, Kenny. Fighting isn’t any way to resolve a problem.”
“Dad doesn’t care about fighting, Mom. If I would have hit someone else, he would have been fine with it.”
So much for supporting Russ. Hannah bit her lip for a moment, then tried again. “I know, but…in his own way, I think your dad is trying to take care of you. He loves you.”
“He’s confusing me,” Kenny said.
“About what?”
“About a lot of things. Doesn’t he think I’m good enough to make it in football without…kissing up to the coaches?”
She straightened his blankets. “He thinks he was robbed of certain opportunities. He doesn’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
“I wish he’d just stay out of my business.”
Taking his chin, she forced him to look at her. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, with your father, the fight, football? You’ve been acting so strange lately.”
“It’s nothing.” He fell back and covered his eyes with his arm for a few seconds, then peeked at her again. “Do you like Coach Holbrook, Mom?”
Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. She liked Coach Holbrook, all right. She liked him a lot. Too much. But a second later, she realized Kenny wasn’t asking about that kind of like. “I, um, do. He’s—” drop-dead gorgeous, a skillful lover, and infuriatingly complex “—a good guy.” She moved Kenny’s alarm clock over on his nightstand because it gave her something to do with her hands. “What about you? Do you like him?” She told herself it didn’t matter, that she wasn’t going to get involved with Gabe romantically again, but she couldn’t help wanting her sons to think well of him.
He nodded. “Every play has to be absolutely perfect before we leave practice, but…he seems cool, you know? Except when he looks at me with those sharp eyes.”
“Sharp eyes?”
“It’s like they’re sending a message—‘Come on, you can do it.’ It makes me want to be sure I don’t let him down, you know?”
“Mom?” Brent’s voice reached her from down the hall.
“What?” Hannah called.
“Can I have the two dollars you owe me?”
“For what?”
“Weeding the yard.”
“When did you weed the yard?”
“When we got home today.”
“That’s fine.” She turned back to Kenny. “Sounds like Gabe has a lot of confidence in you.”
“Maybe too much,” Kenny grumbled.
“Mom?” Brent again.
“What?”
“Can I go ahead and get the money?”
“Sure.” Hannah bent to pick up the basketball shorts Kenny had obviously dropped on the floor just prior to climbing into bed. “Sly had to get stitches last night, you know,” she said, folding the shorts.
“I heard.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “His mother expects me to pay the doctor bill.”
“I’ll pay it,” he said. “Or work the money off somehow.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest.” She held up the folded shorts. “Clean or dirty?”
“Clean.”
Moving across the room, she put them in a drawer. “Well, I’m sure you’re tired. I’ll let you—”
She didn’t finish because Brent startled them both by suddenly barging into the room and flipping on the light.
Hannah opened her mouth to tell him to turn it off. He’d just blinded her and Kenny. But then she felt her stomach drop to her knees. She wasn’t so blind that she couldn’t see Brent had a hold of Gabe’s T-shirt.
“What’s this?” he asked, holding it up in apparent confusion.
For a moment, Hannah’s mind raced. How was she going to explain having a man’s shirt in her purse? Especially Gabe’s? “A…T-shirt.”
“Whose is it?” Kenny asked his brother.
“How should I know? I just pulled it out of Mom’s purse.”
“I found it,” Hannah said because she couldn’t come up with anything more plausible.