chapter Six
Jake
“Do I really have to wear a suit?” I probably shouldn’t have complained. My dad was mad enough, but I could count on one hand the number of times I’d worn a suit in my life.
“Yes. You need to wear a suit.” We were meeting with our attorney, Jim Morgan. I didn’t know him well, but he’d been my dad’s attorney forever. He always seemed all right, although his son could be a piece of work. “If you want the judge to take you seriously, you have to dress seriously.”
“All right. I’ll wear a suit.”
“It’s your first offense, and there’s no reason to doubt we’ll get you a good deal, but it’s going to be more than a slap on the wrist.”
“I understand.” I still couldn’t believe I was actually in this situation.
“All right. I’ll see you at the court house at nine a.m. tomorrow. Don’t be late.” Jim scowled. I had a feeling I wasn’t his favorite client.
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Normally I would have disappeared as soon as possible, but my license had already been revoked. I waited for my dad by his car, just anxious to get home and crash. I was feeling better, but I still got tired all the time.
You’d think after the whole “I’m an alcoholic” admission Dad would have been sympathetic, but he was still spitting mad. We rode in silence till we reached my place.
“I’ll pick you up at eight thirty tomorrow.”
“Great.” I got out of the car, resisting the urge to slam the door.
“Do you agree to the terms?” The judge repeated his question.
My mouth was still hanging open. “I thought community service meant picking up trash.”
“In this situation, you have a special skill that can help your community.” The judge leaned back in his leather chair and laced his hands together behind his head. He looked all too relaxed, but then again, he wasn’t the one whose future was on the line.
“So you’re serious? You want me to coach the football team?”
“Yes.”
“And why is that again?”
I expected we’d be having this conversation in a courtroom, but we were all sitting around the judge’s desk in his chambers. The deal I’d been offered had seemed straightforward until the last part. No jail, nothing on my permanent record, the mandatory one year license revocation and community service. Evidently, community service meant coaching the high school football team. Were they insane?
“Don’t play with us, Jake. You’re one of the best players this town’s had. You’ll get the team excited again. Maybe we’ll have a chance. It’s the best team we’ve had since you graduated. Coach Wilkinson didn’t give any warning with his retirement, but who can blame him with that cancer diagnosis. We don’t have time to go through the usual channels to find a replacement. The team just needs the right coach, and those boys could use a role model.”
That had to be a joke. “Role model? I’m here because of a DUI.”
“You got us to win state for the first time in over twenty-five years. You’re a role model.”
I fidgeted in my seat. “I think you’re forgetting one very important detail.”
“Yes?” The judge looked bored.
“I don’t know how to coach.”
“You’ll figure it out. Besides, Anderson and Mitchell are staying around as assistant coaches. They’ll help out.”
“Why not promote one of them? Why me? Do you think my former coaches want to listen to me?” I loosened my tie. It must have been one hundred degrees in there.
“Do I really need to explain this again?” The judge sat forward. “If you don’t want this deal, I’m sure we could come up with a different solution.” From the look he shot me, that one would be a hell of a lot worse. His next words confirmed it. “One that doesn’t involve keeping this off your record.”
“I accept the terms.”
“Smart choice. You should have your limited license in two weeks.”
“What does that mean exactly?” The idea of any sort of license sounded good.
“You can drive to work and community service only.”
“Okay, I get it.”
Dad nodded. At least I’d done something right.
I signed some papers, and Dad and I left.
“You got lucky.” He opened his car door.
“Lucky? How am I going to coach?” I got in and looked at him.
“You’ll figure it out. But you’re going to have to start getting up early. Just because you’re coaching doesn’t mean I’m okay with you cutting back your hours at work.”
“What? Are you serious?” I leaned my head back against the seat.
“Yes. I don’t pay you for nothing.” He started the engine.
“Fine. But how am I getting anywhere without a car? The judge said I won’t get a limited license for two weeks.”
“You can walk to the high school.” He pulled out onto the road, driving so slow I thought we’d never get to my house.
“It’s over three and a half miles.”
“Like I said, you can walk to the high school.”
“And work? I guess I’m walking there too?”
“That’s a much shorter walk.” He gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. I must have been stressing him out more than I thought.
“Fine.”
“And on the bright side, Molly already offered to drive you home from practice if you need it.”
“Molly? Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s family, and a family helps each other.”
“At least it’s only two weeks.”
“Don’t get any ideas that the limited license is for anything but what the judge said it was. If they catch you driving any other time, you’ll be in hot water.”
I reached to turn on the radio but then thought better of it. “What am I going to do about a car?”
“You can use my old truck. I don’t think you’ll get much from insurance, so you might want to save up if you want something better next year when you get your full license back.”
“Great.”
“Maybe living without a license will teach you a lesson.”
“Like being forced to coach football won’t? Did you know they were setting me up for that?”
“I had my suspicions.” He tried to hide a smile.
“Why?”
“With Coach Wilkinson getting sick, they needed someone. You’d be free labor.”
“Terrific.”
Dad stopped the car short. “That’s enough!”
“Enough of what?”
“Enough of that attitude. You should be grateful to be alive. To have a family that supports you. Did you even have to worry about hiring an attorney? What about paying for one? How about figuring out how to explain the situation to your boss?”
I looked down.
“Exactly. Now get out.”
“We’re not there yet.”
“I don’t care. You need some fresh air to clear that head of yours.”
“Gee, thanks.” I got out, this time slamming the door. He was right, and I knew it. That just made it worse.
I was ready to pass out by the time I got home. You’d think recovering from a collapsed lung would get you a break, but not in my dad’s book. I sunk down on the couch and turned on the TV. I went right to ESPN, but it was just some interview special featuring has-been players. I shut it off.
I needed a distraction. What I wanted was a drink—but I couldn’t. Even if I wasn’t on meds, my mom had cleared out my entire supply while I was in the hospital. There was also the whole conversation with Dad. Didn’t being an alcoholic mean never drinking at all? That just seemed dumb. I could control my drinking if I wanted to. There were plenty of times when I just had a beer or two. It didn’t matter though. Without a car, it wasn’t an option.
The only thing that sounded better than a drink was that nurse. If she looked that hot in scrubs and a cardigan—I was ready to see her in something else. I’d rummaged through my wallet and found her number as soon as I’d gotten home. I’d already programmed her into my phone. I couldn’t recall her ever giving me her last name, or if she did I forgot it, so she was just under Emily. I liked the name. I’d only known one Emily and she’d been an all right girl.
I was never nervous about calling girls, but this time was different. She’d seen me at my absolute worst. The only upside is that even at my worst, she gave me her number. I could only improve from there.
I decided to stop stalling. My excuse for waiting was making sure I wasn’t doing time. Now that it was off the table, I could finally call. I figured she probably knew about the DUI, but I wasn’t excited about telling her she’d have to pick me up if we went out. Whether a girl was traditional or not, she expected the guy to drive. I hit call and listened to a few rings.
“Hello?” She answered hesitantly, like she was nervous.
“Emily?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
I leaned back against the couch. “It’s your favorite patient.”
“That’s impossible. I don’t have favorites.” Her words were playful.
“Does that mean you give out your number a lot?”
“No—not too often.” She laughed. “How’re you doing, Jake?”
A thrill ran through me when she said my name. I assumed she remembered me, but it was nice to hear it. “I’m doing all right.”
“Feeling better?”
“Much. I get tired a lot though.”
“That’s pretty normal.” Her voice was soft, just like I imagined her skin feeling.
“How’re you doing?”
“All right. I’ve just been working.”
“Any chance you want to do something else? Maybe get dinner sometime?” I was ready to break my cardinal rule. You always do coffee on the first date in case it’s a disaster. But this wouldn’t be a disaster, and coffee wouldn’t be long enough.
“I’m working most of this week. This is my only night off.”
“Then how about tonight?” I knew it was a long shot, but she’d just admitted she didn’t have much going on.
“Won’t I seem desperate if I say yes?”
“I already sound desperate. Why not join the club?”
“Do you want me to come to you? If you can’t drive or anything…”
She was fishing for information.
“Unfortunately, you’re right. I can try to get a ride.” I cringed at the thought of asking. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered calling her.
“That’s okay. I’ve heard a lot about Clayton Falls.”
“Yeah? So you want to meet here?”
“Sure. But how about we make it early, so I get home at a decent time?”
I wouldn’t have argued about anything. “It’s only eleven…want to make it lunch?”
“Oh. That would be great.” She sounded relieved.
“Okay, cool. Is noon too soon?”
“No. Not at all. Do you want me to pick you up?” There were muffled sounds like she was moving around. Maybe she was getting ready.
“If you don’t mind…” Man, it felt weird for a girl to be asking that.
“It’s fine. I just need your address.”
I gave it to her. “Call if you get lost or anything, but it’s really just a straight shot.”
“It’ll be fine. See you soon.”
“Great. See ya.”