Cameron’s brow pinched. “I thought Matt had a college fund.”
“He does.” Which was tied up in Brandon’s business. “But it’s not enough for a school like that. He’d have to get a scholarship, and we both know my son won’t be getting any football scholarships to the University of Texas.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Cameron pointed out. “Then again, playing football for the Buffs wouldn’t be so bad either.”
Brandon scrubbed a hand over his rough jaw. “Try telling Matt that.”
“He’s a kid. We didn’t listen at that age either.”
And wasn’t that the truth? He hadn’t listened when his aunt, Blake’s mother, had warned him about Trisha. “She’s flighty,” Blake’s mom would say. “The girl’s got her head in the clouds and you need to put her behind you.” Unfortunately, Brandon hadn’t listened because he’d been so enamored with her too-big-for-her-face green eyes, long legs, and infectious sense of humor. Five months later she’d called him to meet her behind the bleachers at the school. Through a stream of tears she’d informed him she was pregnant and that her daddy was going to kill her if they didn’t get married. So he’d married her, telling himself everyone was wrong about her. That Trisha loved him and Matt and would never leave for greener pastures.
He’d never been so wrong or so heartbroken.
“Give the kid some time,” Cam urged. “Applications aren’t due for a few months anyway. And right now I need him focusing on the team and making state. If you have a kid who plays for a state championship team, he’ll have a better chance of getting offers.”
Brandon and Matt drove home after practice. The second they were in Brandon’s truck, Matt dug his earbuds out of his backpack and stuck them in his ears.
Because heaven forbid the kid have a conversation with his father. At least one that didn’t begin and end with him grunting some non-answer. Music blared from Matt’s phone, which Brandon could hear through the earbuds, effectively cutting off any hope Brandon had of talking to his own kid.
Brandon pressed the accelerator and went through a green light, taking them through town and toward home. Haystack Mountain loomed in the distance, jutting above the valley, soaring past even the clouds with the sort of majesty that only God could give. The legendary Champion’s Valley sign, built out of white boulders during the Bobcats’ state-winning team run that lasted about fifteen years, had been strategically placed lower on the mountain so that anyone in the town could see it. A constant reminder that their team used to be great and could be great again.
Brandon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and shot Matt a glance.
His hair, as dark and unruly as Brandon’s, was matted with dried sweat and plastered to his head. Matt’s legs, long and lanky, also like Brandon’s, were stretched along the floorboard in front of him. Bottom line, Matt was a mini version of himself in both looks and personality.
He slugged the kid on the shoulder, motioning for him to remove his earbuds.
“Yeah?” Matt asked after he’d yanked the things from his ears.
“I talked to Cameron while you were on the field with Coach,” Brandon told him.
Matt shifted in his seat, trying to stretch his long legs out even more. “And?”
“He says you’re doing better.”
Matt nodded, then lifted his arms to plug his ears again. Brandon reached over and yanked the things out of Matt’s hands.
“Hey,” his son protested.
“I’m trying to have a conversation here,” Brandon told him. “Coach worries the recruiters are distracting you.”
Matt shrugged. “They’re not,” he answered.
Brandon tossed Matt a quick look, then placed his attention back on the road. “You’re telling me the guy from UT wasn’t throwing you off?” Matt stared down at his lap. “Matt,” Brandon said when he didn’t respond.
“Maybe a little. I mean, I wanted to impress the guy.”
Brandon shoved down the irritation that always bubbled up when the subject of college came up. “First of all, your focus needs to be your team and not recruiters. Second of all, I’ve already told you that you can’t go to UT.”
Matt looked at him. “I can if I get a scholarship.”
“And what if you don’t?” Brandon countered. “What’s wrong with UC? It’s a good school,” he said, not waiting for Matt to answer his question.
“Nothing,” Matt said with a shrug. “But their football team’s for shit.”
Brandon knew he didn’t need to correct his son for the language. He simply slid him a raised brow look that most parents perfected when disciplining their children.
Matt got the message loud and clear, because he cleared his throat and fiddled with his earbuds. “Sorry. They’re not very good.”
“The football team may not be that good,” Brandon agreed. “But they have one of the best business schools in the state.”
Matt heaved a sigh and shifted in his seat. Brandon already knew what the kid was going to say before he said it.
“But that’s not where Adrienne’s going,” Brandon concluded, because he’d heard it a dozen times already. “Look, I like Adrienne. She’s a sweet girl. But you don’t have to go to school where she’s going.”
“You and Mom stayed together after high school,” Matt pointed out.
True. But Brandon wasn’t about to give the kid a point for it. “The circumstances were a little different, Matt. And you know darn well that we didn’t stay together,” Brandon said as he turned into their neighborhood.
“So my relationship with Adrienne is expendable because I haven’t knocked her up?”
Brandon shot Matt a look. “Boy, you’d better check that tone.”
Matt cleared his throat and glanced out the window. “Yes, sir.”
Brandon tightened his hand on the steering wheel and resisted the urge to run his hand over Matt’s hair, like he’d done when he was a kid. “What I mean is, don’t put all your eggs in one basket,” he told his son. “Keep your options open. You never know where your relationship will be in a year. Do yourself a favor and focus on the Bobcats’ season for now. Don’t worry about the recruiters.” He glanced at Matt as he maneuvered his truck onto the driveway of their house. “Otherwise Coach will make you do extra sprints.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. I don’t ever want to do that again.”
“I have some meetings and then I’ll be back to make dinner,” he told Matt.
Matt nodded and opened the passenger door. He slid out, tugged on the back door, and reached for his football bag, then hesitated as though he wanted to say something else. Brandon expected another argument for his case. But Matt surprised him.
“Love you, Dad,” Matt said after a minute.
“Back at ya, kid,” Brandon responded just before Matt slammed the door shut. “Don’t forget to put that stuff in the wash. And feed the dog!” Brandon yelled as Matt walked away from the car and toward the front door.
Matt’s response was a backward wave just before he let himself through the front door.
Three