“Escape from what?”
Hope sucked in a heavy breath. She had to go down this road. Part of the way, anyway. She owed him that much. “I had a phone call from my ex. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“Ah.” He took a bite from his half sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “Tell me about your ex.”
“I’d rather not. It’d give me indigestion. Can we change the subject please? I’d like to tell you about the parent conference I mentioned.”
He gave her a long considering look, and she could see his inner debate. He wanted to press her. Hope lifted her chin. She had no intention of being pressed.
“All right, then,” he conceded. “I’ll keep my opinions about harassment to myself. Just tell me this. How long have you been divorced?”
Hope breathed a sigh of relief. “Four years. End of story. So, about my parent conference … we have a senior student named Wade Mitchell. His parents are local ranchers. He’s a good student, but not an exceptional one. I expect him to graduate with a B+ average. He is, however, an exceptional athlete.”
She didn’t miss her lunch partner’s subtle tensing. Nevertheless, she pressed on. “He’s tall and strong from his ranch work. He has quick reflexes and he thinks on his feet. He plays basketball.”
Lucca set down his sandwich. “Hope, if you’re thinking what I think you are thinking, then save your breath.”
“Just hear me out. Would you, please?”
“It won’t matter.”
“Our basketball coach quit just before school started. Our principal couldn’t find a replacement. I’m filling in. Me. I haven’t played basketball since high school. Wade has the raw talent to play for a college team, Lucca, but he needs to develop his skills and he needs … we need … to call him to the attention of the decision makers.”
“No,” he said flatly and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.
Annoyed now, she wasn’t going to let it go. It was time he stopped wallowing. “The first practice is this afternoon. Helping Wade could count for your volunteer pledge. Wouldn’t it be easier to coach the young man a little than to go around the school washing the high windows? You could make a tremendous difference in that young man’s life. Wade Mitchell needs you.”
“I said no.”
“Why?” Irritation sharpened her tone. “Lucca, you’re not even thinking about it.”
“I don’t have to. No way, Hope. I saw the kid. You’re right, he does have talent. But I’m not a mentor, a teacher, or a coach.”
“What are you then? A paint scraper?”
“Presently, yes.”
“Well, that’s ambitious.” She wanted to reach across the table and shake him. “What are you going to do beyond that? Continue to wallow?”
Irked, Lucca scowled at her. “‘Wallow’? Seems you didn’t mind it the other night.” He tossed down his napkin and stood up to leave. “I don’t need this, Hope.”
“I think you do. You need it more than you’ll ever realize. You didn’t die in that van wreck, Lucca. You are still here. And all you’re doing is existing. You need to give something back and start living again.”
Before he could retort, she went on. “There are people in this world who have lived through all nine circles of hell and are still putting one foot in front of the other. They give back. Do you know why? Because it helps. It makes you feel better. It reminds you that you’re still alive even though you might wish you were dead.”
His eyes angry, he fired his words like bullets. “Seems to me that I’ve already done my share of giving. I gave you all you could handle the other night, didn’t I? You wanted escape, and I gave you a place to go. I didn’t ask for explanations or strings, and I’m damn sure not asking for advice.” He grabbed up his jacket. “So, thanks for the sandwich. And for the screw. Beyond that, we’re done here.”
But as he reached for the door’s handle, she found her voice and her backbone. “You ass.”
She threw down her own napkin and rose. “How dare you? You sorry, selfish, poor-pitiful-me sonofabitch. I know you feel guilty because your players died.”
He whirled to face her. “Do not dare to—”
She cut him off with a jab of her hand. “I understand that the success you had afterward didn’t rest well on your shoulders. Probably made you feel guilty as all hell to win. I get that. It’s hard to be the one left behind, Lucca. I understand that more than you probably realize. But do you know what? You just need to get over yourself and move forward, Coach. It’s not all about you.”
He stood frozen in place, as tall and stiff as the Ponderosa pine rising from the center of the courtyard. Hope was on a roll. She stepped away from the picnic table and approached him, her chin up, and her hands braced on her hips. “You have been given so much—talent and treasure and a face and body that make a woman swoon. You’re a grand-prize winner in the genetics lottery. And what are you doing with those gifts? Nothing. It’s a disgrace. You have no purpose. You could do so much good, but instead you are working as a second-rate handyman for your mother.”
His jaw was set and as hard as the granite cliffs of Murphy Mountain, his eyes as cold as its summit in January. He was a full foot taller than she was; he loomed above her. Hope didn’t give a damn. He needed that fine ass of his kicked.
She put her palm against his chest and shoved him. “You are not the only person in the world to suffer a tragedy, Lucca Romano. Other people suffer losses. But other people can’t count on their big bank account or their large, loving family for support. Do you know what it’s like to have no one? To be totally alone? No, you don’t! You are a Romano.”
“Dammit, Hope.”
“Don’t you curse at me! Other people have suffered the worst that life can throw at them and they didn’t quit. They climbed back up on their feet and they survived and they made a freaking difference. Well, guess what, mister. You could do that, too. You
She reached past him, yanked open the door, and sailed through it, leaving him—and her lunch remains— behind. In a blind fury, she marched down the hall and around the corner until she reached the girls’ locker room. Shoving open that door, she strode inside and kicked an open locker door shut as his words echoed through her mind.
“Thanks for nothing, lawn boy.”
She took a deep, cleansing breath, then walked to her locker and changed into her athletic clothes. She had afternoon gym classes to oversee.
Not to mention the first basketball practice of the season.
NINE
With Hope’s angry accusations ringing in his mind, Lucca exited the school, his shoulders hunched against the wind’s chill. Brittle brown leaves skittered across the sidewalk as he walked beside the playground where squealing children ran for the shelter of the school.
He’d left his truck at Aspenglow, a five-minute walk from school. Halfway there, a flurry of fat snowflakes began to swirl around him. His leather coat didn’t offer much protection from the elements. Soon he was as cold on the outside as he was inside.
His refusal to coach had definitely struck a nerve, and she’d fired back hard. Of all the lousy things she’d said, calling him a quitter rankled the most. For all his life, he’d been a competitor, never a quitter. The fact that he deserved the charge made him feel like crap. The truth really did hurt; it gave him one more reason to despise himself.
