sounded jealous. Which was ridiculous. Even if he had an interest in pursuing something with Adele, which he didn’t, he wasn’t jealous of a redheaded math teacher.
“Maybe.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out a set of keys. “Catching up with Cletus will be nice. After the week I’ve had, I’m ready for a good time.”
“Good time?” He reached for the brim of his hat, slid it back, then settled it in the same place. “Impossible.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “Not that I really care, but why?”
“He’ll bruise like a peach.”
“I’m going to talk to him.” She frowned and shook her head. “Not punch him.”
Clearly they were talking about two different kinds of “good times.”
“Hey, Z,” the middle-school football coach called out as he approached. “That was some game last weekend. Shame about Don.”
Adele looked up at Zach and into the shadow his hat created.
“How’s the boy doing?” the middle-school coach asked.
“I just talked to his doctors up in Lubbock this morning. He’s doin’ good.”
Adele took a step back. “Excuse me,” she said as she walked around Zach and headed toward the parking lot. She thought of the double-z tattoo circling his upper arm. The last time she’d seen it, they’d been naked, and she’d been running her hands and mouth all over his hard body.
“Adele,” he called to her.
A cool breeze blew a few strands of hair across her face as she looked back over her shoulder.
“See ya around.”
She didn’t answer, just kept on moving. Obviously, she was going to run into Zach now that Kendra would be spending so much time with Tiffany. She would be polite, but that was it. She didn’t feel anything for him anymore. She didn’t love him, but she wasn’t interested in reliving memories. She didn’t hate him, but she wasn’t interested in being friends.
She and Kendra made the short drive to the hospital in just about ten minutes and showed Sherilyn the tryout video. Afterward, they drove through McDonald’s, and Adele had a salad while Kendra pigged out on a Quarter Pounder with cheese, fries, and a Coke. When they got back to the condo, Kendra did her homework while Adele did laundry.
Over the next few days, Adele’s life settled a bit and fell into a pattern. She woke every morning, took Kendra to school, then jogged her five miles. She visited her sister in the hospital and listened to the latest updates on Sherilyn’s and the baby’s progress. Sherilyn would add to the to-do list, and Adele would run around town whittling it down the best she could. At around noon, she’d return home to work on the opening of her next book, a futuristic set in an alternate universe. During her breaks in writing, she caught up with her friends in Boise via e-mail. She’d met the three other writers years ago when they’d all attended the same librarian conference. The things they’d had in common—deadlines, writers’ block, and bad relationships—had made them fast friends. And even though Adele was the only one suffering from bad relationships these days, they were still great friends. Once Sherilyn had her baby, and everything was fine, Adele could not wait to go home and catch up in person.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Adele was ready for a break. Cletus Sawyer had called during the week to say he’d pick her up for dinner at seven. Kendra had been asked to babysit the five-year-old in the condo next door, and in case of an emergency, Adele programed her phone number into Kendra’s cell.
An hour before Cletus picked Adele up, she threw on a long-sleeved red dress and shiny red pumps she pulled from Sherilyn’s closet. She didn’t bother with nice underwear, not that she’d packed her nice stuff anyway. Even if the date went really well, and she discovered an overwhelming attraction to Cletus, she had to be home when Kendra got home at eleven.
Over appetizers, Cletus told Adele about his divorce and his two-year-old daughter. He asked questions about her life and seemed genuinely interested. They laughed about things that had happened to them in school, but by the time Cletus paid the check, Adele knew nothing was going to happen with him. Ever. He was really nice, but she had absolutely no desire to get naked and freaky with him, which was kind of sad because the date was going surprisingly well. So well that she was beginning to wonder if the curse was broken.
At around ten he drove her back to the condo and walked her to the door.
“When can I see you again?” he asked.
She wouldn’t mind having Cletus for a friend. “I don’t know.” She dug her keys out of her clutch purse. “I’m really busy with my sister, and I don’t have a lot of free time. Call me though, and maybe we can get together for coffee.”
“Oh. You’re one of those.”
“You think you’re too good for me. You think because I teach math that I’m not any fun. You think I’ll be pacified with a little coffee date.”
“Cletus, my sister’s in the hospital, and I have to take care of my niece,” she said through a sigh. “I just don’t have a lot of time for real dates.”
“Sure you don’t. I bet if I had a lot of money, you’d find the time. If I’d been one of the popular guys in school, you’d be dying to date me.”
Adele looked at him, and she couldn’t get angry. It wasn’t his fault he’d turned into a jerk. It was hers. She was still cursed.
Chapter 5
One hundred fifty miles west of Cedar Creek, Zach was beginning to wonder if he was cursed, too. Cursed with a defense that hesitated on the snap and couldn’t get past a determined offensive line to rush the quarterback.
Within the guest locker room of the Grande Communications Stadium in Midland, he and his assistant coaches stood surrounded by the rattle of Tylenol bottles, the rip of athletic tape, the smell of grass, sweat, and frustration. In the first half of the game against Midland, the Cougars were behind by fourteen points.
Zach folded his arms across his dark green Cougar’s Football jacket while the defensive coach, Joe Brunner, drew a diagram of the zone blitz on a marker board. “We spent all goddamn week reviewing the Bulldogs’ tapes,” Joe said as he drew x’s and o’s on the board. “We knew goin’ into this game that they play their zone better than any team we’ve been up against this year. Their goddamn quarterback is just sittin’ back in the pocket lobbing balls to the soft spot, and you guys aren’t goddamn rushin’ him.” Joe drew dashes and arrows from the linebackers through the o’s as he continued.
Zach liked Joe. He respected his knowledge and devotion and his gut instinct. Joe had played cornerback for Cedar Creek and later for Virginia Tech in the nineties. No one loved football more than Joe Brunner, but he had a problem that held him back from ever being a head coach. He cracked under pressure. Right in half like someone split him with an ax, and out came a spitting, whirling devil. It was every coach’s job to get their boys to pull their heads out of their asses and turn games around, but that was hard to do if the fifty-three players in front of you were trying not to laugh.
Zach stood with the offensive coach to one side and watched to make sure Joe didn’t crack. They interjected when necessary and were relieved that only two veins popped out on Joe’s forehead. For most of Zach’s life, he’d been a quarterback, not a coach, but he’d played ball for some of the best coaches and some of the worst. He’d led teams to championships, and he knew the difference between being stern and going off on a tirade. He knew that players would leave their blood on the field for someone they respected and who respected them. A good coach inspired that kind of respect.
When Joe was finished, Zach stepped in front of the marker board. “Y’all know what you gotta do,” he said. “You go out there and make those Midland boys sorry that they showed up today.” He pointed to the defensive
