“Of course.”
Bill sighed. It was hard for him to believe sometimes how big his only child was getting. She was practically an adult. When she was a baby, he had always thought that most of the worrying would end as she got older. It turned out that the worrying never ended; you just focused on different concerns. He had discovered that was the dirty little secret about parenting—there was no finish line, you just kept going and going, hoping you were running the race properly, but most of the time not knowing whether you were even still on the course.
He reached for his wallet. “So, how much do you need?”
“I’m not looking to borrow money.”
Bill laughed. “That’s a relief. I was bluffing. I don’t actually have any cash on me. But I am curious why you’re here, hanging out with your old man instead of plotting with Lauren how to catch Cody Mall’s eye. Not that I don’t appreciate the attention.” He moved to the kitchen sink and filled a teapot with water, placing it on the ancient stove. “Tea?”
“It’s Small, Dad. Cody Small. And sure, I’d love a cup of tea. Anyway, I’m here on a very important mission.”
“Really. A mission. Now I’m intrigued.”
Carli handed him a plain white envelope with the words “Mr./Mrs. Ferguson” handwritten on the front with black marker in carefully constructed block letters. Bill turned it over in his hands, a look of puzzlement on his face. “Okay, I give up. What is this?”
Carli grinned. “This is the key to my college future, and to your financial future.”
“Really. Well, you’re not old enough to buy a lottery ticket yet, so what gives?”
“Why don’t you open it and see?”
Bill examined the envelope carefully. “It’s addressed to your mom, too. Has she seen it yet?”
“Nope. Coach White recommended I show it to you first, so here I am!”
“Okay, I’ll bite—who is Coach White?”
“He’s the assistant women’s soccer coach at Albany University, Dad, and he told me today they want to offer me a full scholarship! At Albany. To play soccer!”
“Is that right? Congratulations, honey. What did Coach Benson have to say about this?”
“Coach Benson wasn’t there.”
“You met with a college coach at the school without your high school coach present? That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t meet with him at the high school. I was walking home with Lauren, and he was late for the appointment. He saw us walking by and introduced himself. And he gave me the scholarship stuff right outside the 7-Eleven. He recommended you open it first, so here I am!”
A feeling of unease wormed its way through Bill’s belly. He stared at the envelope as though he could divine its contents by force of will. He couldn’t imagine a legitimate college sports coach or recruiter approaching his teenage daughter out of nowhere, on the street, and giving her a letter to pass along to her mother or father. Something was not right. Bill set the letter aside on the kitchen table as the shrill whistle erupted from the teapot.
Carli looked at him incredulously. “You mean you’re not going to open it? Aren’t you curious? I know I am. You can’t keep me waiting like this!”
Bill smiled at his daughter’s excitement and wished he could share her enthusiasm. If the strange envelope actually did contain an offer of a full athletic scholarship to Albany, they would have some celebrating to do, but he could not shake the sensation that something was off about the whole situation. Carli was a good, not great, high school soccer player. A full athletic scholarship offer from a college seemed unlikely.
He poured their tea and handed a cup to Carli before picking up the mysterious envelope. “Let’s check out your scholarship,” he said with artificial cheer.
CHAPTER 20
HELLO, MR. FERGUSON, THE letter read.
That’s quite the beautiful young girl you have there. Carli is a fitting name, too. Pretty and distinctive, without being overbearing. Just like her, if I may be so bold. It is not a name that says, “Look at me, I’m cute and adorable!” But she has no need to shout to the world about how cute and adorable she is—everyone can see it. Don’t you agree? Of course you do, you’re the proud daddy. I don’t know her well yet, but I’m sure as I get to know her better—more intimately, if you will—I will discover all of the many endearing facets of her totality, as I instruct and train her. That is something I am so looking forward to doing.
You see, thanks to your interference a few days ago, I am now lacking companionship, and certain acquaintances of mine have had their delivery schedules disrupted. These are not people who readily accept such disruptions, and neither am I.
At first, I was very angry with you, Bill. May I call you Bill? After all, sharing someone as close to both of our hearts as Carli makes us close as well, don’t you think? Anyway, as I did a little research into the man who ruined my carefully laid plans the other day, I discovered, to my surprise and delight, that fate had laid better plans right in my lap—the meddling man’s very desirable daughter.
Thanks to the generosity of the news media, I was able to learn, right from the comfort of my own couch, who you are and what you do. (Really, Bill, hardware stores? How boring. How pedestrian. I would have figured you for, I don’t know, dentistry perhaps. Oh, wait, I’m sorry, that’s the profession of the man who took your wife. I so hope I’m not touching a raw nerve here.)