Best Kept Secrets

down by four points. A field goal wouldn't have done us any

 

good. There were only a few seconds left on the clock. We

 

had the ball, but it was fourth down and miles to go because

 

of penalties. Both the A-and

 

B-string wide receivers had

 

been injured in the previous quarters."

 

"My God."

 

"I told you, football's a blood-drawing sport out here.

 

Anyway, they were carting the star running back off the field

 

on a stretcher when the coach looked toward the bench and

 

barked my name. I nearly wet my pants."

 

"What happened?"

 

"I shrugged off my poncho and ran out to join the team

 

in a time-out huddle. Mine was the only clean jersey on the

 

field. The quarterback--"

 

"Reede Lambert." Alex knew that from the newspaper

 

accounts.

 

"Yeah, my nemesis. He groaned audibly when he saw me

 

coming, and even louder when I told him the play the coach

 

had sent in with me. He looked me right between the eyes

 

and said, 'If I throw you the goddamn football, preppie, you

 

fuckin' well better catch it.' "

 

For a moment Junior was silent, steeped in the memory.

 

"I'll never forget that as long as I live. Reede was laying

 

down the terms."

 

"The terms?"

 

"Of our becoming friends. It was then or never that I had

 

to prove myself worthy of his friendship."

 

"Was that so important?"

 

"You bet your ass. I'd been in school there long enough

 

to know that if I didn't hack it with Reede, I'd never be worth

 

shit."

 

"You caught the pass, didn't you?"

 

"No, I didn't. In all fairness, I can't say that I did. Reede

 

threw it right here," he said, pointing at his chest, "right

 

between the numbers on my jersey. Thirty-five yards. All I

 

had to do was fold my arms over the football and carry it

 

across the goal line."

 

 

 

"But that was enough, wasn't it?"

 

His smile widened until it germinated into a laugh. "Yep.

 

That marked the beginning of it."

 

"Your father must have been ecstatic."

 

Junior threw back his head and howled with laughter. "He

 

jumped the fence, hurdled the bench, and came charging out

 

onto the field. He swooped me up and carried me around for

 

several minutes."

 

"What about your mother?"

 

"My mother! She wouldn't be caught dead at a football

 

game. She thinks it's barbaric." He chuckled, tugging on his

 

earlobe. "She's damned near right. But I didn't care what

 

anybody thought about me, except Dad. He was so proud of

 

me that night." His blue eyes shone with the memory.

 

"He'd never even met Reede, but he hugged him, too,

 

football pads and all. That night was the beginning of their

 

friendship, too. It wasn't too long after that that Reede's

 

daddy died, and he moved out to the ranch to live with us."

 

For several moments, his recollections were private. Alex

 

allowed him the introspective time without interruption.

 

Eventually he glanced up at her and did a double take.

 

"Jesus, you looked like Celina just then," he said softly.

 

"Not so much your features, but your expression. You have

 

that same quality of listening." He reached out and touched

 

her hair. "She loved to listen. At least she made the person

 

talking think she did. She could sit so still and just listen for

 

hours." He withdrew his hand, but he didn't seem happy

 

about it.

 

"Is that what first attracted you to her?"

 

"Hell, no," he said with a leering smile. "The first thing

 

that attracted me to her was a ninth-grade boy's adolescent

 

lust. The first time I saw Celina in the hall at school, she

 

took my breath, she was so pretty."

 

"Did you chase after her?"

 

"Hey, I was dumbstruck, not crazy."

 

"What about this mad crush you had on her?"

 

"She belonged to Reede then," he said unequivocally.

 

 

 

"There was never any question about that." He stood up.

 

"We'd better go. Regardless of what you say, you're freezing.

 

Besides, it's getting spooky out here in the dark."

 

Alex, still befuddled by his last statement, let him assist

 

her up. She turned to brush the dry grass off the back of her

 

skirt and noticed the bouquet again. The green waxed paper

 

wrapped around the vivid petals fluttered in the brisk wind.

 

It made a dry, rattling sound. "Thank you for bringing the

 

flowers, Junior."

 

"You're welcome."

 

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness to her over the years."

 

"In all honesty, I had an ulterior motive for coming here

 

today."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Uh-huh," he said, taking both her hands. "To invite you

 

out to the house for drinks."