“Since when?”
“I don’t know. It’s happened gradually, I guess.”
“Having him gone almost a week out of every month can’t help.”
“He’s gone more than that. Softscape decided that three weeks of telecommuting in one month was too much. For the past year, he’s been gone half the time.”
Gabe had been so involved in recuperating that he hadn’t paid any attention. “It’s not good for you to be apart so much.”
She chuckled humorlessly. “No kidding. I’m beginning to feel like a…a divorcée or a widow. But…never mind.” She acknowledged Lazarus again when he gave a short whine. “None of this has anything to do with you.”
Gabe knew she was afraid she was indulging in self-pity, which is something she’d accused him of doing often enough. But he couldn’t hold what she’d said in the past against her. “Why not have him quit his job? Do something else?”
“I’ve asked him to.”
“What does he say?”
“He says okay but never gives notice. It’s always going to happen next week or next month or next year.”
“Why don’t you push the issue?”
“Because I’m not sure he’ll be able to find something better around here. There aren’t many options for a computer programmer in such a small town.”
“Have you thought about moving to L.A. to be with him?” Gabe asked.
“I’ve mentioned it, but he won’t even entertain the idea. He says he doesn’t want to be responsible for taking me and the kids away from our friends and family.”
“Well, if it’s about money, Reenie—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t even offer, Gabe. We won’t let you support us. We have too much self-respect for that.” Squaring her shoulders, she slipped back into her tougher self. “I’m just saying that marriage can be difficult and…and maybe you should think about that and let bygones be bygones with Dad. We don’t know what he was going through at the time he had the affair. At least he was always there for us. I’ve never doubted his love for us. Have you?”
Gabe’s problem with his father wasn’t about love; it was about hypocrisy. But maybe Reenie was right. Gabe had never been married, didn’t know how difficult it could be. Look at Reenie. His sister usually had an answer to everything, and a clear path before her, but even she seemed a little lost right now.
“I’ll try,” he said.
“Will you come to dinner next Sunday? I know it’d mean a lot to him. He hardly said a word when I was there today. He just ate quietly and kept looking at your empty chair.”
Gabe gazed at his dog, who sat watching them both, tail thumping the floor. Dinner at his folks’ house. Coaching for the high school. Sleeping with Hannah. His life was getting far too complicated. “I’ll think about it.”
This response must’ve pleased her because she put a hand on his arm. For a moment, he thought she was going to hug him and actually hoped she would. She seemed so small, even defenseless for a change.
But she didn’t. Instead, she gave him a brief smile and slipped out.
Gabe whistled for Lazarus not to follow her, then watched from the porch as she walked to her car. “Call me if you need anything,” he hollered. “I don’t like the idea of you and the kids being alone days on end.”
She tossed him a smile. “I’m okay. Just come to dinner next Sunday. That’s all I ask.” She got in the car and rolled down her window. “You can bring Hannah, if you want.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly, but he was fairly certain Hannah wouldn’t want to give folks anything more to talk about. I don’t plan on introducing another man into my family life…
As his sister drove away, the phone rang, jerking him away from his thoughts. He wondered if it might be Hannah, wanting to know why he’d bought condoms at Finley’s. And why he’d then announced to the woman with the biggest mouth in town that he planned to use the whole box.
He should’ve said no to Mike when his best friend appeared that day, pleading for Gabe to take over the Spartans. This all stemmed from that one small concession….
“Come on, boy,” he said to Lazarus and went in to answer the phone. But he didn’t immediately recognize the caller.
“Hello, Gabe. How the hell are ya?”
“Fine,” he replied. “Who’s this?”
“Phil Hunt, ESPN.”
The producer of NFL Sunday Countdown. Gabe had heard from him before. He normally cut Phil off right away, but today he was glad for the diversion. “What’s going on, Phil?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on. We need a color commentator, and we need one badly.”
“I thought you already found someone.”
“Have you watched the show lately, Gabe?”
“No.” He typically avoided it. Hearing the hosts predict which team would win which game and listening to them discuss the players, all of whom, except for the rookies, had been Gabe’s peers, made him miss football like nothing else.
“Why not?”
Unless he wanted to drive himself crazy, a man on a diet didn’t hang out at a bakery. “I’ve been busy.”
“Well, let’s just say that Norm Bolitzer has yet to overcome his stage fright. He was a great runningback—don’t get me wrong. But he’s too stiff as a color man. He’s not letting his personality come through, if you know what I mean.”
“Does he know he’s not working out?”
“Fortunately, he came to us before we had to go to him. He’s like you. He doesn’t need the money. When he realized he wasn’t having fun, he didn’t want to do it anymore.”
“What makes you think I’d be any better?”
“Are you kidding? We’ve had you on the show enough to know. You think fast and speak well in front of people. That’s what it takes.”
“Phil—”
“Wait a minute, Gabe. At least hear me out. This is an offer even you can’t refuse.”
Gabe opened his mouth to say there wasn’t enough money in the world. But Phil’s call had come at an interesting time—right when he was beginning to realize that he couldn’t put his life on hold any longer. He had to start living again, either in Dundee or somewhere else. And in Dundee, there was no “start slow, gather speed” option. There was Blaine and the trouble he was causing with the team. Hannah and the fact that he’d managed to land her exactly where she didn’t want to be—in the thick of town gossip. Reenie and the strain between her and Keith, and finally, his relationship with his father. He couldn’t stall Reenie indefinitely. If he stayed, he’d have to reconcile with his father. It wouldn’t be more than a few more weeks before he’d be sitting at Sunday dinner.