Chapter 12
Jett
The past two weeks have been hectic between practices to get ready for the playoffs, ensuring Dusty does his homework, and spending time with Sunday… but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I grin thinking about last weekend when we went to Ike’s. While it’s a bar, they have some of the best burgers and onion rings around, so we placed an order of those, grabbed our drinks, then found a table to settle into since the waitress would handle serving us our food once it was plated.
We were laughing over something one of the kids had done at practice, when a male voice called out, “Sunday? Is it really you?”
Her gaze slid sideways, and I saw her pale slightly, but her nervousness never showed in her voice. “Hello, Jonas,” she replied.
“Wow, I knew you lived here too, but since I hadn’t run into you, I just figured you were avoiding me.” I held back my snort of amusement, that man was a moron. He watched her like a boy who lost his puppy. I waited for his tongue to lop to the side and drool.
“What’s to avoid?” she asked. “Have you met Jett Blake? He’s the head coach at the high school.”
Begrudgingly, and only because I ended up with the girl that he foolishly let go, I held my hand out and shook his. My woman definitely has manners because I wouldn’t have given the fucker the time of day. But that’s just me.
“Well, I mean, you know,” he stammered, making me smirk.
“No, I really don’t, Jonas. If you’re referring to breaking off our engagement when I was in the hospital, after nearly dying, I hold no ill-will at all.”
“Y-y-you don’t?” He seemed almost shocked at her words while his wife looked appalled as she gave her husband a ‘what the fuck?’ look. Yeah, sweetheart, he’s a real charmer. You might wanna listen to what comes out of my woman’s mouth so you can grasp how shallow your man truly is, and know if you slip off the pedestal, he’ll end up ditching you too.
“Absolutely not. I mean, at first, I was hurt, of course, but I’ve come to realize we weren’t really suited for each other in the long run, and it probably wouldn’t have lasted long enough for us to get married. Congratulations to you two, by the way,” she replied, nodding to his wife.
He seemed to bow up a bit at her words, and I knew I was right when he asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means that I was never going to be good enough for you, Jonas. No one is perfect, and that’s what you were looking for, so the minute I became scarred, I ceased being important to you and lost my standing on your pedestal. And that’s okay, because Jett doesn’t give the first fuck that I’ve got visible reminders of my service to our country. Do you, honey?” she asked, glancing at me.
“Nope. Not at all,” I answered, smirking at the asshole who was now glowering down at my woman. If he kept it up, I was gonna owe Ike some money for the damages I was about to cause.
“I see your language is still that of a sailor and unladylike,” he sneered.
“I represent that wholeheartedly, because I was a sailor, remember? Words are just words, Jonas, and I don’t have time to censor my vocabulary for anyone, least of all you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re on a date and waiting for our food to arrive.”
I’m now laughing, which has Collins, one of my assistant coaches, looking at me in bewilderment. “You okay, Blake?” he asks.
“Yeah, just remembering something that was funny.”
“So, you and the hot nurse, huh?” he teases. When I glance at him, my brow raised, he puts his hands up in pacification. “It’s not like that, Blake. But with all the extra practices, your boy’s been around, and he’s been singing her praises to everyone who’ll listen. I’m seriously happy for you, man. If anyone deserves a good woman, it’s you. Sunday Cross is one of the best, hands down.”
“She really is,” I reply. “Been thinking about the future,” I confess. “I know it’ll seem too soon to a lot of folks, but we all know about opinions.”
“They’re like assholes, everyone’s got ‘em,” he retorts, chuckling. “Honestly? I was just starting out when you two were in school, and I remember how you both would watch the other whenever you were in the same place at the same time. Y’all’s eyes were like two magnets drawn together. Even though you were dating that witch, which I still don’t quite understand because she was horrible to everyone around her. However, you seemed to have a soft spot for Sunday.”
It’s true; seeing how Sunday interacted with everyone, from the janitors to the lunch ladies, I always wished Stacey had some of those gentle qualities.
“You know how it is when you’re a teenage boy and ruled by your hormones,” I ruefully reply. “But I’ll never regret staying with her because I got Dusty out of it,” I remind him. “And he’s worth all of the hell I went through.”
“He’s definitely a damn good kid,” he remarks, his eyes now on the field where the boys are goofing off as they pick up the equipment.
“Best of all, he adores Sunday.” My admiration of her is profound, and I would shout her praises from the rooftops if it was necessary. But the town seems to adore her like I do, so it’s not needed.
“Kind of important since she’s going to be his mom, don’t you think?” he questions, smirking at me. “Some folks might think you’re moving too fast, others not fast enough. The important thing for you to keep in mind is that it’s not about them, it’s about the two of you. As long as you guys are happy, and Dusty’s okay with it, in the end no one else matters.”
“Good point, Collins. Thanks.”
* * *
Sunday: Kinda wishing you were here right now. This big old bed is lonely without you.
Me: Oh really? And you had to bring that up now when it’s too late for me to foist my kid off on my sister?
Sunday: LOL just teasing, honey.
Me: Mmhm. You just wait, sweetheart.
Sunday: I don’t have a choice, thanks to the extra shifts I picked up to help out. I hate that I’ll miss the game!
Me: I’ll see if Cissy can keep Dusty after the game, and be there waiting for you when you get home, how does that sound?
Sunday: Like a winning plan to me! Okay, I’m going to get some sleep so I’m ready for the next twelve hours. Good luck to you and your boys, honey.
Me: Sweet dreams, Sunday. See you in the morning.
* * *
“And with the final whistle blown, the Possum Run Polecats are off to the state championships!” the announcer screams enthusiastically as we make our way to midfield, shaking the other team’s hands while saying, “Good game.”
“Great game, Coach,” the other coach says, shaking my hand. “Your guys never gave up.”
“Appreciate that, Coach,” I reply. “It’s how I was taught, so I teach them to keep playing until the final whistle.”
“Well, it worked tonight, that’s for sure. We’ll be rooting for you at state, Blake,” he says.
“Gonna be a tough game, but we’ll be as prepared as we can possibly be, and I hope my boys are ready to practice their tails off,” I tell him.
Seeing my team is done shaking the hands of the other team’s players, I blow my whistle to bring them in close. “Alright guys, hit the showers because I’m sure some of your girlfriends are waiting on you in the parking lot.” Wolf whistles fill the air as several of them blush.
“Dad! Are you staying longer?” Dusty asks, coming up to stand in front of me.
“Was going to meet with the coaches to set up a game plan of sorts to get ready for state,” I admit. “Why? You got a hot date?”
“Dad,” he drawls out, smirking at me. “No, I was hoping you weren’t so I could maybe go to Aunt Cissy’s early is all. I know you and Sunday have a date when she gets off work, and don’t want to be in the way.”
“Since when are you in the way?”
He doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes at me, making me laugh. “I know I’m not, Dad, but I also know you’ve both been busy. I really like her,” he leans in to whisper. “And I know she likes cats but also likes dogs, loves her house, and wants kids.”
This kid.
“How do you know all of that?” I ask. While we’ve both seen her during this time, he hasn’t been alone with her long enough to ask those questions.
“Because I texted her.”
“You text her?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, you’re not all that good with science, Dad. I know you think you are, but she’s a nurse and has you beat, hands down! When I said something about my science grade, she gave me her phone number and told me to call or text her if I had any questions,” he replies in a ‘duh’ tone.
“I’m sure she meant if you had any science questions,” I retort, holding back my smile, because I know my woman doesn’t care why he reaches out, she just wants to be there for him. But he doesn’t know that, so I need to give him some hell.
“Huh, well, I asked her the stuff I wanted to know, and she answered me, Dad.”
“How often do you text? Do I need to worry about you trying to steal my girl?” I tease, chuckling.
Again, he rolls his eyes at me, making the players who have been close by, and overheard our bantering, start laughing. He glares at all of them which makes them snicker even harder. Seems my boy might have his first crush, and of course, it’s on my damn woman. Sighing, I pull him close for a hug, and lean down close to his ear and whisper, “She’s mine, little man, but if you can keep a secret, I’m planning to ask her to marry me the next time we have more than ten minutes together.”
He whoops out loud, and breaks free to do some sort of weird dance, which I hope to never see again. While the boys pester him about what I said, I smirk when he doesn’t give in and disclose our secret. Instead of answering them, he ignores their taunts, and acts like he’s zipping his lips before tossing the imaginary key he used to lock his lips with, launching it over his shoulder.
“Hey, Coach, uh, I overheard Dusty asking about you taking him to his aunt’s house. I’d be happy to drive him over for you,” Timmers says. “I wasn’t planning to go out and celebrate tonight with the rest of the team. Wanna ice my leg, you know?”
Timmers has taken Dusty over to my sister’s quite a few times when I couldn’t, and I know he’s a safe, cautious driver. Still, I feel I need to warn him, because I know how my son is as well, and don’t want him to egg on Timmers and cause him to do something dumb.
“Speed limit, no assing around, seatbelts,” I bark out, making him smirk.
“Same thing you tell me every single time I take him for you, Coach. I promise, I drive like he’s my grandma who has a full pitcher of sweet tea sitting on her lap.”
The visual has me laughing as I clap him on the shoulder. “Hit the showers, then you two can go, alright?”
“Gotcha, Coach. Hey, Dustman!” he yells out. “I’m your ride to your aunt’s house, so don’t go anywhere.”
“Thanks, Timmers!” Dusty bellows in response, while I grin at my son’s nickname.
* * *
As Timmers walks over to where I’m standing with Dusty, his duffel slung over his shoulder, I grin seeing the girls who stuck around staring at the handsome teen. He doesn’t seem to notice, keeping his focus on the two of us. Once he’s directly in front of us, I hand him two twenties.
“Stop by the Burger Shack and grab some food for the two of you. Keep the rest for gas,” I instruct.
“Sweet! Let’s go, Timmers!” Dusty exclaims, his mind already on the greasy food he plans to order.
“Thanks, Coach. Can you let your sister know it’s me dropping him off?” he asks.
“Already done. Thanks, Timmers. See you on Monday, be ready to work hard.”
“Definitely. We’re gonna win state, Coach!”
Dusty gives me one last hug, then sprints to keep up with Timmers’ long-legged stride, making me grin. A few more years and my boy’s going to be just as tall if not slightly taller than I am. Wonder how Sunday will feel being the shortest person in our family?